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lumosandnoxwriting · 1 year ago

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look at you || Fred Weasley

Title: Look at you Pairing: Fred x Reader Summary: distance really does make the heart grow fonder. Warnings: NSFW - minors DNI! This contains, vaginal sex, female receiving oral, breeding kink, mentions of cum marking, dirty talk, praise, mentions of sex toys/sexting and pregnant sex. A/N: hockey!fred could hit me with his car and I would say thank you. Anyway as always this is dedicated to @darthwheezely b/c she always encourages my shenanigans.

The away games are always the hardest.

Fred is usually gone for a week, and between traveling, playing multiple games and the time differences they mainly communicate via text and maybe a phone call if they’re lucky. At first the lack of communication bothered Y/N. They moved across the country after Fred got drafted and it felt isolating to have the only person she knew in Washington unavailable most of the time. But now that Fred’s in the fourth year of his contract Y/N is a pro at handling the distance. Her and a bunch of the other WAGS always get together to watch the games at someone’s house, and usually do dinner or brunch on some of the days the guys are gone. And now that she’s working and more involved in the area she’s got plenty of friends and activities to keep her busy while Fred is away.

She figured this season would be just like the others, that it would suck while Fred is gone but she’d just keep busy until he was back home in their bed.

Until those two little pink lines stared up at her from the bathroom counter the night before training camp started. She wasn’t totally surprised at the result, considering her and Fred had been together for a decade, married for half of that and regularly relying on the pullout method as their main form of contraception. And of course they’d talked about having kids, but their general consensus had been that they would start trying once the season was underway, hoping to time it just right that their baby would be born at the beginning of the off season, so they could spend the first few months as a complete family unit before hockey took over Fred’s life again.

But of course life decided to say fuck their plans, and now Y/N is due to give birth just before playoffs begin in April.

Y/N had thought that having Fred gone during her first trimester would be the worst part of it, having to deal with morning sickness and those first few doctors appointments by herself. But the nausea and vomiting left her feeling so gross she was glad Fred didn’t have to see her like that, and they were able to work with her doctor so that Fred didn’t miss a single appointment.

It’s now, with Y/N into her second trimester that Fred’s absence seems to be hitting her the hardest. Her bump has finally popped, and she can barely keep her hands from stroking over the smooth skin at all hours of the day. The baby has started to move around too, starting off as gently flutters she assumed was gas that have now grown into distinctive pushes against her belly. Not to mention the nausea and vomiting that plagued her first few months of pregnancy have faded away, and Y/N finally understands what people say when they talk about pregnancy glow. Her skin is the clearest and softest it’s ever been, and her hair and nails look amazing thanks to her prenatal vitamins.

And just as she passed the five month mark her newest, and most annoying to deal with on her own, pregnancy symptom started.

She’s unbelievably horny every hour of the day.

Her newly filed out breasts constantly ache, and some days her nipples are so sensitive just the material of her bra sends a shiver down her spine. Her pussy is almost constantly slick, her clit throbbing and her cunt aching to be filled. Once the seam of her maternity jeans pulled so deliciously against her as she was driving that she nearly crashed the car as she came from that brush alone.

Everything seems to turn her on these days, no matter how inconvenient the time or place is.

Like right now, the guys are on the last leg of their longest away game stretch, the final game of a two and a half week trip, and her cunt is dripping as she watches Fred punch the other team’s center in the jaw. Not only is it inconvenient because she’s sitting on Melaine, the goalie’s girlfriend’s couch, but because Fred isn’t due back home until tomorrow afternoon and she passed out last night before she could put her vibrator back on the charger. And her own fingers will never live up to the memories of how worked up Fred gets after a fight, and how the only thing that seems to calm him down is taking Y/N from behind as he growls in her ear.

She tries to shift subtly as the ref throws Fred in the sin bin, his mouth still moving wildly as he throws insults at the other team, but when Rachel throws her a look Y/N knows she’s been caught. Rachel is the wife of one of the defensemen, and had been heavily pregnant for most of last year’s season, so Y/N figures she knows exactly how she’s feeling right now.

“Tomorrow afternoon can’t come soon enough,” Rachel teases, voice low enough so only the two of them can hear.

Y/N snorts in laughter, nodding in agreement. “You have no idea.”

Fred throws a middle finger over his shoulder as he rushes towards his truck, causing his teammates to laugh even harder. The bus had barely stopped before he was up out of his seat and making his way to the front, far too eager to get home to Y/N. Because the texts she’s been sending since he got off the ice last night have had him perpetually hard in his pants and the only thing on his mind is getting home to his wife.

He drives well over the speed limit on his way home, praying to whatever deity that exists out there he won’t get pulled over, since he’s pretty sure his urgent need to fuck his wife is not a good enough excuse to get out of a ticket. The car is barely in park as Fred throws the door open, hockey bag left behind in his haste to get inside. In a matter of a few seconds he’s barreling through the front door, taking the time to lock it behind him before he heads for the stairs.

“Baby?” he calls as he climbs, ripping his shirt off as he goes. He pauses to kick his shoes off, just letting them tumble back down as he continues up.

“Hi,” Y/N greets breathlessly when Fred appears in their doorway. Her eyes are immediately drawn to the way his jeans hang open, his cock clearly fighting against the material of his boxers.

Fred groans as he takes Y/N in, cock throbbing at the way she kneels on their bed in nothing but his jersey. The curve of her bump is visible even in the oversized garment, and Fred almost can’t believe that this is his life. He makes a living playing the sport he loves and every night he gets to come home to the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen who’s beauty has only grown as he watches his child grow inside of her.

“Fucking hell,” he practically growls as he steps into the room, his complete focus on Y/N. “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are, wife? That picture of your pretty pink pussy all wet and begging for my cock has been driving me crazy. I couldn’t sleep knowing you were all alone in our bed, desperate for my cock wearing nothing but my jersey.”

Y/N practically pants as Fred stalks toward her, hands clenched in fists at her sides to try and resist the urge to touch herself. She had to give herself a pep talk before taking the photo she sent, so to see Fred’s reaction to it here in the flesh makes her cunt throb with want. Before falling asleep Y/N had managed to work herself up to a few weak orgasms with her fingers, but those are nothing in comparison to what she knows Fred is about to give her.

“Sexy?” she asks teasingly. Fred has finally made it to the edge of the bed, and she runs her hands up his arms and over his shoulders, resting her palms against the sides of his neck. “Even with my big old bump in the way?”

“Especially with your big bump in the way,” Fred practically purrs. He finally gives in to his urge to touch his wife, one hand hooking around her thigh while the other fists the front of her jersey, yanking her closer to him. “Just knowing that you’re full of my baby, that I did that to you is enough to make me cum, something I know you’re well aware of.”

And she knows Fred isn’t lying. He’d always been possessive in the bedroom, and it only intensified when she got pregnant. Once her bump popped Fred was like a man possessed, needing to have one hand on it at all times. He’s finished on her bump more times than Y/N can count, rubbing his cum into her skin so he can claim her fully.

Instead of responding Y/N lets Fred pull her into a kiss, her fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his skull as he nibbles on her bottom lip. He claims her mouth with his, crawling up on the bed so he can get even closer. The hand he had on her jersey makes its way up to cup her jaw, angling Y/N’s face so he can kiss her deeper, while the one that was on her thigh starts to travel further up.

“Fuck,” Fred moans into her mouth as his hand brushes her bare hip. “No panties? Dirty girl.” He lets his hand cup the swell of her stomach, thumb slowly brushing back and forth in a sweet gesture that is the total opposite of the way he kisses his wife.

“Please,” Y/N pants as Fred’s mouth finally leaves her’s, starting to press kisses into her neck. “Need you to touch me, Freddie, only feels good when it’s you.”

“Well how can I deny my wife when she asks so nicely?”

Fred kisses the juncture of her throat one last time before pulling away just enough so he can pick her up under her thighs. He positions her back on the bed just how he wants, her back flat against the mattress with her legs spread wide, a hand on each thigh to keep them open for him.

“You’re fucking cunt,” he groans, his eyes drawn to her slick pussy as he bites his lip. He sinks down on the bed so he’s resting between her thighs, thumb and forefinger spreading her pussy apart to put her clit on display. “This pussy is going to be the death of me.”

Y/N gasps as Fred finally puts his mouth on her, hips nearly lifting off the bed as he sucks her clit between his lips. Her toes curl as his tongue flattens against her, thighs already quivering as Fred’s thumb presses against her entrance. “God, please, Fred.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs to fuck into her with his index finger, curling it to press against the front wall of her cunt, right against the spot that has her moaning his name. His cock twitches as Y/N’s hand tangles in his hair, curling his tongue around her clit as she tugs.

“Such a good girl,” Fred praises as he presses another finger into her slick cunt, letting his thumb rub small circles into her clit. “I love this pretty pussy so much, wife. Gonna eat it every fucking day of the week.”

He takes her clit back between his lips as he fucks her with his fingers, needing her to cum before he can give her what they both desperately need. His cock aches as Y/N grinds down against his face, the feel of her taking control of her pleasure only turning him on more. Fred’s tongue flicks at her clit as his lips suck, and he can tell by the way her cunt grips his fingers that she’s close.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my hand so I can have you cumming all over my cock.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Y/N babbles as Fred licks her, fingers tugging him even closer into her as she grinds against him. Waves of pleasure are swirling in her core, electric shocks radiating all down her spine as Fred brings her closer and closer to the edge. He makes her feel like she’s on fire, completely erasing the few weak orgasms she had last night from her memory.

Fred wraps his arm around her thigh to keep Y/N in place as her orgasm takes over, his fingers and mouth still working her through the pleasure. Y/N’s toes curl as pleasure consumes her, thighs quivering as a cry of Fred’s name leaves her lips. Aftershocks of pleasure send shivers down her spine, and Y/N has to use her grip on Fred’s hair to separate his mouth from her cunt as she comes down.

He doesn’t say anything as he crawls back up the bed, letting Y/N catch her breath before he leans down to kiss her softly. Her legs wrap around his hips, the need for Fred to be close overwhelming her need to get off for a brief moment.

“Need you inside me,” Y/N murmurs against Fred’s mouth, her legs tightening around him.

“Needy girl,” Fred teases, nipping at her jaw. But with one final kiss to her lips he pulls back, climbing off the bed so he can rid himself of the rest of his clothes. Who is he to deny the needs of his wife, the woman growing his child?

Y/N makes a move to pull the jersey she’s wearing up over her head, and Fred grabs her wrist, shaking his head.

“No, the jersey stays on.”

Fred’s pretty sure he hears her mumble something about him being a possessive idiot, but he doesn’t even care. Settling on the bed, back against the headboard with his cock leaking against his stomach, he beckons Y/N closer. “Come sit on my lap and make yourself cum on my cock, baby.”

Under normal circumstances she’d make some joke about how he’s making her do all the work, but her cunt is already aching again and if she doesn’t get Fred’s cock in the next three minutes she may die. Y/N crawls up the bed, shivering at the look in Fred’s eyes. It’s full of nothing but pure desire, and she can feel her heartbeat pulsing in her clit. At one point she feared that pregnancy may change the way Fred looks at her, and now as she straddles his waist Y/N can’t believe what an idiot she had been.

One of Fred’s hands lands on her hip, the other on her bump and the contact sends a shiver down her spine. It takes a little bit of finesse with her bump in the way, but as soon as Y/N has Fred’s cock pressed against her cunt she’s sinking down. She’s slick enough from Fred’s mouth and her previous orgasm that she presses down until she’s fully seated in his lap, and her eyes flutter shut from the pleasure coursing through her veins.

Fred is so thick and full inside her, and Y/N just sits there in his lap, eyes closed and her head tilted back as she appreciates the feel of him inside her. Y/N’s cunt pulses around him, and with how desperate she’s been to feel her husband like this, she already feels embarrassingly close to her climax already.

“Fuck you are perfect,” Fred groans as her hips start to gently rock. He fixes her jersey so the hem rests on the top of her bump, wanting to see it in all of its glory. With one hand squeezing her thigh, Fred places the other on her stomach to help keep her balance. “So fucking full aren’t you, wife? So full of my cock and my baby, hm? Love being full of me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she responds breathily, leaning back to brace herself against Fred’s thighs. The new angle lets him sink even deeper, and a sharp gasp falls from her mouth at the sensation. “Always wanna be full like this.”

“With my baby or my cock?” he teases.

“Both,” Y/N hits back truthfully.

“Fuck,” Fred growls, unable to keep his hips from thrusting. The moan that comes from Y/N spurs him on, and he continues to match her movements with his own. “Whatever my wife wants my wife gets. Gonna keep you nice and full with my cock and my cum and my babies until we’ve got a whole fucking hockey team, baby. And no one will ever doubt who you, who this fucking pussy, belongs too.”

Her cunt clenches even tighter at his words, encouraging Fred to keep talking.

“Look at you, my pretty little wife, fucking herself on my cock. Bet you thought about this the whole time I was gone, didn’t you, love?”

“Fuck, yes,” Y/N moans. She’s inching closer and closer to her orgasm with each of her movements, thighs quivering from a mixture of the pleasure swirling in her core and the effort it’s taking to fuck herself on Fred’s cock.

“Fuck you look so good like this, baby,” Fred praises. “Not gonna be able to take you like this much longer, am I? I swear everytime I look at you, your belly is bigger. It’s not long until you’ll be too big to ride me like this, isn’t that right, love? But that’s okay, because you look so fucking good all full of my baby. Seeing you like this, knowing I did this, makes me feel fucking feral, baby. You’re doing such a great job, growing our baby. Gonna be such a good Mama.”

The combination of Fred’s cock stretching Y/N to her limits and the constant stream of praise coming from Fred pushes Y/N over the edge, and her back arches as she comes. Shocks of pleasure jolt out from her cunt, her clit aching and her toes curling as her orgasm washes over her in waves.

The feel of Y/N’s walls pulsing around Fred’s cock as she moans his name pushes him to his own climax, his hips just barely pushing up into her as he empties himself into her eager cunt.

“Taking it so well, baby. Fuck.”

He places a hand on her lower back for support as they both come down, the hand he has on her bump rubbing soothing circles into the skin. When having her in his lap starts to get uncomfortable, Fred carefully lifts her off, maneuvering so he can lay Y/N next to him on the bed without jostling her too much.

Finally feeling satisfied, Y/N watches Fred move around their room through her barely open eyes, too tired to try and stay awake any longer. She lets him move her around too clean up, a soft whine coming from her lips when he pulls the jersey up and off over her head. But she’s immediately placated when Fred helps her into one of his old t-shirts, and she doesn’t even fight him as he pulls sleep shorts up her legs.

He disappears into their bathroom then, and Y/N is practically asleep by the time he reemerges and gets into bed beside her. But instead of Fred pulling her into his arms like she expected, her eyes open in surprise as Fred pushes up the hem of her shirt just enough to expose her bump.

“What are you doing?” she murmurs, tone laced with humor.

“What does it look like?” Fred responds as he pours lotion into his hands, rubbing them together to warm it up. He cradles her stomach carefully, slowly starting to massage her skin. “I’m taking care of both of my girls.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #fred weasley imagine #fw #golden

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crownofgildedlilies · 1 month ago

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christmas shopping

pairing: takami x reader summary: Keigo is a busy man, but it’s the holiday season, after all. wc: 1.4k event masterlist

The holidays were, arguably, the busiest time of the year.

It was also your favorite time of year, don’t get it twisted, but you were so incredibly busy. There somehow always was a new item on your to do list. Baking, cooking, planning. Attending dinners and parties, gift shopping.

And it might have been easier if your boyfriend wasn’t the number two hero.

If the holidays were busy for you, every day of the year was Keigo’s busy season. And you loved him for it, for dedicating so much of his time to saving others. Maybe he hadn’t had a choice in hero work at the start, but he kept with it even when you told him you would still love him even if he quit.

But Keigo, your Keigo, didn’t quit. He would never.

You just wished he could have helped you with your growing list of gifts to buy. You were letting him stick his name on all the gifts for your mutual friends, after all. Maybe it was selfish of you, but you wanted him around to entertain you while you shopped.

And maybe carry your bags for you.

After an hour of shopping on your own, you were growing bored. It didn’t help that Keigo had stopped answering your texts, either, and you were contemplating the possibility of calling it quits early and heading home when you saw it.

Something red, something fast, floating through the crowded shopping center.

A feather.

Smiling to yourself, you couldn’t help but scan the crowd for any sight of the tawny blond you knew couldn’t be far behind. The feather flew in close to your face, but you snatched it out of the air before it could tickle your cheek. Keigo was a tease.

“Are you going to show yourself or just watch from the shadows like a creep?” You didn’t care that you might have looked like the weird one, talking to a feather in the middle of a crowd. You knew for a fact that Keigo could hear you, no matter how far he was.

“You think I’m a creep?” Just like you had thought. He wasn’t able to resist countering your taunt, and made himself known directly behind you. “You really know how to hurt a guy, huh?”

Spinning on your heel, you rolled your eyes at Keigo’s dramatics, though you were secretly brimming with joy that he had managed to find time to meet up with you. Even if it was only briefly, you’d take every minute you could get with your boyfriend.

“I should have known you were up to something when you stopped answering my texts.” You ignore his taunt about hurting him, and instead opt to greet him with a kiss at the end of your sentence. He chased after you for one, two, more kisses before you had to set a hand on his chest and shove just slightly to remind him you were in public. Not that he ever cared about tedious things like that.

“Couldn’t pass up the chance to surprise you. And I figured I should give the other pros a chance to get their ratings up. With any luck, I’ll drop back down to where I’m more comfortable.” Even his explanation was littered with confident bragging. At the moment, he sounded like Hawks—but you wanted Keigo.

“Whatever gets you to help me with the shopping,” You pinched his nose in a teasing attempt to help him switch between his pro hero persona and who he really was. Sometimes, he struggled to do so, but after dating for so long you knew all the little tricks. “But I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to just duck out on patrol like this.”

“You’re my number one.” He smirked, always a flirt, and you hated that he was still able to draw a blush out of you like your relationship was only brand new. He winked at you as he deftly slipped the few shopping bags you had already collected from your hand, and you knew he wasn’t quite done just yet. “Just don’t tell Japan that.”

“So romantic,” You grinned, letting him take the weight of the bags. You were perfectly capable of carrying them yourself, but if he was going to insist, you’d let him.

Plus, it meant he was going to stay for the rest of your shopping trip with you.

“Is it always this busy around here?” Keigo asked, threading the fingers of his free hand through yours. You rolled your eyes playfully, brushing your thumb over his knuckles in a mindless show of affection.

“It’s nearly Christmas, Kei. All the shopping districts are busy.” You explained dutifully. You wanted to tease—it was hard not to, really—but you knew he was always so busy that he never had time for simple tasks like shopping. “C’mon, we’ve still got a lot of the list to get through so far. All I’ve managed is a few things for my family, and the night light you wanted to get for Tokoyami. Are you sure you don’t want to get him a real present, too?”

“Nah,” Keigo chuckled at his own joke, but you made a mental note to yourself to get something the young hero in training would actually enjoy. Keigo had him over for meals often enough that you knew Tokoyami wasn’t in the market for a nightlight. “Let’s get going on this list, shall we? Where to first, boss?”

“Well, if I can’t talk you out of getting a corduroy jacket for Best Jeanist, then—”

“It is him!” The not-so hushed whisper interrupted your sentence, and accompanying it was a group of teenagers eagerly approaching your boyfriend. Keigo wasn’t dressed in his hero uniform—a rare sight in public—but the giant red wings he boasted forced him to stick out in any crowd.

You might have been a little naive to assume that he would be able to help you get the shopping done without being approached by his fans. You never tried to stop him or get in the way, so you dropped his hand and stepped back to let him take pictures and meet with his fans. And after a few minutes they moved on, allowing you to slip your hand back into your boyfriend’s.

“Now that I have your attention again,” Keigo smirked like he hadn’t been the one to have been pulled away, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek before you could think to argue against his words. “I was thinking about getting Mirko a hamster.”

“I’m not taking care of a hamster when she—”

“Hawks, man, I’m such a huge fan.”

A couple of guys in their late twenties were the next to approach, and you busied yourself by checking over the list you had made before leaving the house while Keigo tried to subtly end the small talk they tried making with the pro.

Except, a family with a few young children noticed number two Hawks at their local shopping center and wanted a photo for the kids. And your boyfriend wouldn’t have been the charming hero he was if he didn’t oblige them. It snowballed from there, until a line practically formed to greet Keigo and shake his hand.

You still hadn’t moved after nearly twenty minutes, but Keigo had managed to get the small crowd to disperse enough that he was able to talk to you. He looked a little embarrassed; clearly, he hadn’t planned on you having to stand by and watch him get fawned over.

“Why don’t we just go home and shop online?” He suggested, scratching at the back of his neck and momentarily losing his confident persona. Unable to stop yourself, you laced your fingers through his to stop his nervous habit.

“That sounds like a good idea.” You smiled, kissing his knuckles gently. The tinge of red on his cheeks only seemed to deepen in color, and you briefly prided yourself on getting such a sure hero to blush with a simple act of affection.

“Sorry to ruin your day out and cut it short,” He apologized unnecessarily and you shook your head. You wanted to tell him that he hadn’t ruined anything, that your day was only improved by his presence, but you figured that was too heavy of a topic for a shopping center Keigo could get mobbed by fans in at any moment.

So you settled for a teasing grin, bumping your arm against his as you walked towards the exit.

“At least you can’t buy a hamster online.”

#keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami x you #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo x you #hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x you #mha hawks #mha keigo takami #mha x reader #mha x you #mha #my hero academia x you #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia

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nnon0 · 10 months ago

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J.Jaehyun Fic Recommendations

For all the Jae lovers :)

other fic rec posts : 1. 2.(active post)

🫀- favorites

(🫀) Stars, moons and other celestial bodies @kiachiako

WC: 26.7k Brother!Taeyong Retro-themed AU

With your fizzy drinks and vinyls in tow, you’re determined to make the most of your summer before the start of your first year at university. Everything’s seemingly perfect; humid afternoons with your closest friends, late-night mixers at your local alumnis' estates, and sleeping in to ungodly hours. What you didn’t predict, however, was your brother making the early trip home to surprise you with a certain someone — namely, his best friend since childhood — following closely behind. His unexpected appearance throws you off, and suddenly, your summer is filled to the brim with his presence. You’re finally able to taste the idea of mature love, but is it really all that it’s made out to be?

FIVE PLUS ONE @ppangjae

WC: 28.8k+ Chef!Jaehyun, enemies to lovers

Five times world-renowned chef Jeong Jaehyun tried to end your journey to be a chef because you weren’t ‘qualified enough to be a chef’ and that one time you proved him wrong.

(🫀) King Of the Streets @anashins

WC: 28k Streetracer!jaehyun x Journalist!reader

The moment you find yourself hiding in the backseat of a sports car that's illegally racing through the city, you just know this story will finally catapult you to the top of your journalism career. But there are a few things you haven't reckoned: How personal this story will eventually turn - and the driver's sheer insatiable craving for lollipops. And for you.

The V Week Spy @smileysuh

WC: 20.1k Frat!au Jaehyun x afab!reader

Every year, seven days before Valentines day, sororities and frats are paired together, and eligible himbos, hoes, bimbos and fuckboys alike volunteer to be raffled for a chance to become the year’s V Week Spy. V Week is open season, with outings and parties tailored to be the perfect excuse for sexscapades, with the knowledge than 1 boy and 1 girl are undercover, grading sexual performances. Once the week is over, at the annual Valentines Day Party, the evaluations are presented- It’s a bad time to be unsure about someone’s feelings towards you, and an even worse time to fall in love.

(🫀)HEARTS ARE WON AT PRACTICE @angelwonie

WC:21.2k Football player!Jaehyun , Enemies to friends to lovers

jung jaehyun is an obnoxious, way too handsome footballer whom you have no intention of getting to know. at least until a series of coincidences forces you to spend time with him, and you realize there might be more to him than what meets the eye.

Try Again @gimmehyuck

WC: 19.8k Idol!jaehyun x Teacher!reader

jaehyun remembers the night he met you, and even after that one night he often thought of you and wished things would have been different, but by a weird twist of fate he gets to see you again, except this time... you're not alone.

Runway @wincore

WC: 18.7k Model!jaehyun x Fashion designer!reader

there are some things that come with dedicating your life to fashion: a taste for finer fabrics, a splash of love for art, and an appreciation of the human body. none of these are supposed to include the hottest model you have ever laid eyes on, or the fact that you completely, utterly hate his guts.

Christmas Puppy @smileysuh

WC: 11k Best friends brother/boy next door Jaehyun

“God, you’re so jealous,” you laugh. Your best friend’s brother doesn’t usually act this way, at his frat, everyone knows you’re his, no one would dare come near you- but here, in your hometown, surrounded by past crushes and would be romancables, it’s open season, and it’s clear that it’s making Jaehyun uncomfortable.

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giannan04 · 5 months ago

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Can you please do a part two to the Jungwon one shot you wrote!🩷

Ask and you shall receive! A few people asked me to make a part two to my Jungwon X F! Reader one shot (https://www.tumblr.com/giannan04/760529750415589376/i-neeeed-panty-fucking-with-jungwon-ill-love) and I was thinking of writing a part two, I just didn’t know how much people would like the first part! I’m so thankful for everyone who supports my writing!🫶🏻

⬇️Part one is listed here ⬇️

Pairing: Best-friend’s brother Jungwon x F! Reader

Genre:Slight bad boy x good girl trope, smut. Best-friends brother

Warnings: SMUT! Cursing (F word is thrown around a lot), God’s name said in vain like twice (I’m a Christian 😭) choking, p in v, cream-pie!, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP Y’ALL), oral sex (f! Receiving), choking, that’s about all I can think of.

MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT!🔞

You were always the perky cheerleader, dedicated to your academics and looking forward to college—just like your best friend, Niki. Everyone thought you two would end up together, especially since you were the head cheerleader and he was the quarterback of the football team. Jungwon, Niki's older brother, never let you forget that. He teased you constantly for being a “goody-goody”, for being just like Niki. But Jungwon was different. He was the bad boy who didn’t care about school, dropped out early because he was next in line to inherit their parents' pharmaceutical company (it would’ve been Niki, but he wanted to be a doctor), and spent his time smoking, drinking & partying, and bringing a string of different girls home every week—-much to the annoyance of Niki and his parents. Deep down, you always knew Jungwon wasn’t good for you, but something about him drew you in, even if you couldn’t stand his teasing, low-key flirting.

——-

It had been hours since Jungwon fucked you (and your panties), leaving you breathless and wanting more. The heat of his touch still lingered on your skin, making it hard to focus on anything else. You couldn’t stop thinking about the text he had sent when you finished earlier, the one that made your heart race: ‘See you in my room later. I’ll make sure you cum this time ;)’

You were now in the living room, curled up next to Niki, trying to concentrate on the latest season of ‘Attack on Titan’ but your mind kept drifting back to Jungwon. The way he had touched you, the way he spoke to and took control of your body with such ease—it was all too distracting. Niki, blissfully unaware, sat beside you with his eyes glued to the screen, excited to binge-watch your favorite anime. Every time you even thought about slipping away to Jungwon’s room, Niki would either start the next episode or ask, “Where are you going?” and “Why do you keep getting up?” trapping you in place.

Your phone buzzed again. You glanced down to see a picture of Jungwon’s hand gripping his hard-on. His dick was pressed against his boxer-briefs, begging to be freed. You squirmed on the couch, desperate to get up and leave the living room, but every time you did that, Niki would play the next episode. ‘I’m waiting for you’, the text read. Heat rushed through your body and your stomach fluttered, your body itching to get up and leave, but Niki kept chattering about the show, keeping you in the conversation. You could barely focus. All you could think about was how badly you wanted to be in Jungwon’s room.

Another text came in not long after. ‘Wtf are you doing?’ Jungwon's frustration was obvious, and you quickly typed back: ‘I’m trying to get away from Niki, but it’s hard!’

Minutes ticked by agonizingly slow, feeling like house until finally, Niki groaned, clutching his stomach. “Shit, I shouldn’t have ate so many snacks” he groaned, wincing. He stood up and headed toward the bathroom. “I’m gonna be in there for a while,” he added dramatically, and you watched as he dashed down the hallway.

This was your chance.

Without a second thought, you rushed to Jungwon’s room. The moment you slipped inside, you found him undressed, his lean frame illuminated by the dim light. He turned to you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Took you long enough,” he drawled, eyes raking over your body. “Strip.” He ran his tongue over his lips in anticipation.

You hesitated, suddenly shy, your hands trembling slightly as you stood by the door. ‘Why am I so nervous?’ you thought. ‘It’s not like we haven’t done this earlier… but still…’ Your mind raced. ‘What if he doesn’t like what he sees?’ You couldn’t shake the insecurity that crept in as you stood there, feeling his eyes on you. You couldn’t believe that you acted all impatient earlier just to be nervous in front of him.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing your hesitation. “What’s the holdup? I already fucked you earlier,” he said, his voice low and teasing, as he smirked at you.

“It’s different this time,” you muttered, tugging at the hem of your pajama shirt. “Before, it was quick… and I still had my cheer uniform on. Now it’s…”

Jungwon rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders, clearly unimpressed by your nerves. “It’s not a big deal. Get undressed.” He palmed his erection with impatience.

Your fingers fumbled with the waistband of your pants before you finally managed to strip. You stood before him, feeling exposed and vulnerable, your arms crossed over your stomach and chest. ‘Is he really going to like my body?’ The thought kept looping in your mind, but you pushed it aside, trying to focus on the moment. Jungwon’s gaze softened just slightly as he approached you, his eyes trailing up and down your body. He reached out, his fingertips tracing the curve of your waist. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual.

“Thanks,” you replied shyly, avoiding his intense gaze.

Jungwon didn’t waste any more time. He picked you up effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bed; you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. He laid you down gently, pressing his lips to yours in a deep kiss. Yet, as his hands roamed your body, he paused, sensing your hesitation. He pulled back, his forehead resting against yours. “What’s wrong now?” he asked, his tone sharp with impatience. “I already told you, you look good.”

You bit your lip, trying to find the right words. “I told you… this is different.”

Jungwon let out an annoyed sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Please stop overthinking it,” he muttered. “Just let me get to work. I wanna make you feel good.” You blushed. You wanted Jungwon. Badly. You knew he was right, you were doing too much overthinking about everything. “Okay.” Jungwon smirked at your response. He lowered back down and began kissing your stomach.

He trailed kisses down your stomach, his lips brushing against your skin as he moved lower. When he reached your core, he didn’t hesitate. He immediately flattened his tongue against your wet pussy lips. Jungwon’s tongue began to explore you, teasing and tasting, making your body writhe with pleasure. His touch was both demanding and tender as he focused on your clit, swirling his tongue and applying pressure. The sensation was almost too much, and you moaned, your hands gripping the sheets. “Oh my fucking God Jungwon. It feels so good.” You moaned louder, your fingers twisting in Jungwon’s hair as you pushed his face deeper inside you.

"Good girl," Jungwon murmured against you, his voice vibrating through your body. "You love this, don't you?" He picked his lips, using them to suck your clit gently.

The pleasure built quickly, and despite your exhaustion from earlier, your body responded eagerly. “Jungwon…I-I’m so close.” Jungwon’s skillful movements drove you to the edge, as he moved his tongue faster, and you cried out as you came, your body trembling under his experienced touch.

Once he was satisfied with your reaction, Jungwon shifted positions, his hands gripping your hips as he entered you from behind in a rough, commanding thrust, the sounds of your wet cunt filling the air. His dick plus the feeling of leftover cum from your last orgasm filled you with so much pleasure. The raw intensity of his movements made you gasp, each thrust hitting deep, relentless and powerful. "You’re so fucking tight," he growled, his breath hot against your ear. "Already came, and you’re still so perfect for me." Hearing him praise you while he fucked you so good left you craving for more. “Oh my god.”

His pace was unforgiving, his hips pounding into you with each stroke. You could feel his balls slapping against your pussy from behind. “I’m going to make sure you feel every inch," he groaned, pushing you further, your body arching and grinding back against him. His movements were punishing, but the pleasure was undeniable, making you cry out with each forceful thrust. “Yes, Won, you fuck me so good!”

Jungwon’s grip tightened on your hips as he felt his own release approaching. "I’m gonna fill you the fuck up," he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic and frantic. With a final, deep thrust, he came inside you, his body shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm. The warmth of his cum filled you, and he stayed buried inside, panting heavily. The warm cum and his thick cock felt so good inside you, you didn’t even want him to move.

Afterward, Jungwon carefully pulled out, his eyes still intense as he grabbed a warm cloth, which he already had waiting on his dresser. He began to clean you up and you felt the care in his touch. "You did so well," he said, his voice a mix of praise and control. "Such a good girl, taking everything I gave you." You’re murmured softly, that was all you could do. You were laying there spent, made a mess by Jungwon.

He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs as he continued to clean you. "Look at you, all wrecked and perfect," he whispered softly, a teasing edge still present in his voice. "Can’t even move after all that."

He helped you into his arms, covering you with a blanket and pulling you close. His touch was soothing as he rubbed your back, but there was still that familiar sharpness in his tone. "Don’t get too comfortable," he warned with a smirk. "Next time, I won’t be so easy on you."

He pressed gentle kisses to your forehead, his hands lingering on your body in a caring way despite his earlier harshness. "You did great," he whispered, his voice softening. "You’re amazing." You really did like Jungwon. Besides how good he made you feel sexually, you could feel how much he cared for you. And he made you feel good about yourself. But you couldn’t help but wonder if Jungwon saw more in you than just sex.

As you lay there, deep in thought, Jungwon noticed the distant look in your eyes. "What’s on your mind?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You hesitated, feeling a blush creep across your cheeks. "I was just wondering… what does this mean for us? Are we… official, or am I just… your fuck buddy?" You bit your lip nervously and played with your fingers, unable to meet his gaze.

Jungwon rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips as he pulled you closer. "What do you think? You’re my girl," he said confidently, leaning in to kiss you deeply. Before you could respond, he continued, "I’ve always wanted you. It drove me crazy that your little “good-girl” self was too occupied with school and your friendship with Niki to see that."

He looked into your eyes, waiting for your response. "Do you feel the same, despite what you’ve heard about me? I know Niki told you I’m not good enough for you”

You nodded, kissing him back with equal intensity, holding him close. "I do," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity.

Just then, Niki barged into the room. "I knew you guys were fucking!” he exclaimed, giving you both a stern look. "Seriously? I couldn’t even take a shit in peace without hearing everything! And you’re supposed to be my company, Y/N!”

The tension in the air was thick as Niki stared at you, in the same bed as his older brother. You laughed awkwardly, attempting to break the tension. “Um, I’ll be right back down, Niki.”

Niki huffed, rolling his eyes. “So, are you guys like “a thing” now?”

Jungwon smirked mischievously at his younger brother. “Damn right.” He leaned down and kissed you, not caring that Niki was watching. Niki wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Gross”, he said, turning towards the door.

Before he left the room, he looked over his shoulder, directly at Jungwon. “Just make sure you treat her right. I don’t play about Y/n.”

Jungwon held you even tighter, his face nuzzled in your neck. “No shit. I’ll treat her like a princess.”

You couldn’t stop the cheesy smile that tugged at your lips. You knew Niki wanted the best for you, but you had no doubt in your mind that Jungwon was good for you.

——

A/N: Y’all, Jungwon is a DOM and I will die on this hill!😭🫶🏻

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alisonsfics · 1 year ago

Text

red carpet premieres

pairing: kit connor x costar!reader

summary: after not seeing kit for a few months, you both are reunited at a red carpet event for heartstopper

word count: 2.1k

As you sat in the busy airport, your eyes were drawn to all of the chaos around you: parents struggling to calm their kids down, people in business suits rushing to make their flight.

You were at the biggest airport in New York, so you shouldn’t have been shocked. You were currently waiting to board your flight to Los Angeles for the red carpet premier of the newest season of Heartstopper.

“Hello hello hello,” you heard a chipper voice say beside you. You looked over and saw Will with his suitcase and an iced coffee in hand.

“There you are, I was worried you were going to be late.” You teased him. He jokingly rolled his eyes as he took a seat next to you. “And how long have you been here?” He asked you.

Your silence spoke volumes as to your answer. Will started to chuckle. “Fine, I’ve been here for two hours, but what if security had a really long line or if something went wrong?” You said, justifying your dedication to being early.

“See, you are and forever will be the mom friend of our group.” Will reminded you. You couldn’t stop the giggles that escaped your lips. All of the cast had decided that you and Kit were the mom and dad of the group.

This was inspired by two things. First, you both were the most responsible people in the cast. Second, you both were harboring some secret crushes on each other that everyone knew about.

“Speaking of, how is your fellow co-parent?” Will asked you. Your shrugged your shoulders. “I haven’t seen him in a while.” You told him, sadly. This was one of the reasons you were so excited to see him at the premiere tonight.

“As though you both don’t FaceTime everyday. We all know you both couldn’t stand to go that long without talking to each other.” Will continued to tease. You could tell that your cheeks were heating up. You were also struggling to keep the smirk off of your face because you knew every word he was saying was true.

You hid your face in your hands trying to hide the fact that you couldn’t keep a straight face.

“Yeah, you totally look like you’re not in love with him.” Will said, sarcastically.

You groaned with frustration. “If it’s so obvious, what am I supposed to do when Kit finds out? He’ll never speak to me again.” You told Will. He reached a hand out and placed it on your shoulder to comfort you.

“Hey hey, Kit would never do that. Plus, I know we tease you both about it all the time, but I really think Kit has feelings for you. He’s always smiling when you’re around, and when you’re not around, all he does is talk about you.” Will told you. He really wanted the best for you and Kit. You were best friends, and he knew how happy you and Kit would be together.

“I may have lied when I said I hadn’t seen Kit since the last time the cast was together.” You told him, honestly.

About two months ago, you and the rest of the cast had to film some promotional content for the show. After that, you had been in New York working on some projects, while Kit had been in Boston. You both had really missed each other and knew you had to spend some time together.

“What is this I’m hearing about? A little secret date rendezvous?” Will asked, shocked. You both hadn’t mentioned it originally because you were worried there’d be more teasing about you both being in love with each other. But, if Will really thought Kit liked you, you wanted him to know.

“It wasn’t a date or anything romantic. We both happened to have a day off at the same time, so Kit bought a train ticket to New York, and we spent the whole day together.” You told Will. A smile grew on his face, seeing how happy you were talking about Kit.

“Wait was that the day you were late to breakfast with me and you were all smiley when I asked why you were late?” Will asked you, started to peace it together.

You shrugged with a giant smirk on your face. “I was happy I got to spend time with my best friend, but it wasn’t a date.” You told him.

You both continued to talk about the reasons Kit did or didn’t possibly like you throughout the flight. If you were going to make a move on Kit, you wanted to be pretty confident he liked you back.

You both landed at the airport and got to your hotel room before the premiere. After you both got ready, you headed over to the premiere in your limo.

When you arrived, you noticed only Joe and Bash on the red carpet, so you knew you were among the first to arrive. Will gestured for you to go first, and you posed on the carpet for pictures. Things continued as normal.

You smiled for all the cameras and posed just like you had done a million times.

You heard commotion among the photographers. Then, you realized they were calling Kit's name. You looked to your right and saw Kit standing on the red carpet. He glanced your direction, and your face lit up. He instantly smiled at you and waved.

Without wasting a second, he jogged over to where you were standing. “Hi,” you said, at the pitch of almost a squeal.

Kit wrapped his arms around you, picking you up off your feet and spinning you around. You could see the speedy flashes of the cameras as they all took pictures of your sweet reunion.

“I’ve missed you,” Kit whispered in your ear as he set you back on your feet. “I’ve missed you too,” you replied, resting your hands on his arms.

He pulled you into another hug, and the cameras began furiously flashing again. Everyone would be talking about the pictures tomorrow and how you happy you both looked.

“I’ve been looking forward to seeing you tonight,” he whispered in your ear, then you both started posing together for pictures. His arm effortlessly slid around your waist, and it felt more natural than you’d like to admit.

You heard an interviewer calling your name, so you pulled yourself away from Kit. She quickly introduced herself as Sarah and began asking you questions.

“While we know you can’t tell us much about what to expect in season two, but do you have any favorite moments from filming season two?” She asked. You nodded along to her question.

“Oooo favorite moment? There was one day that we had to do a night shoot, so we were all a little exhausted. Eventually, Joe, Kit, Yaz, Will, and I got a little delirious and giggly. The group of us just couldn’t keep it together. We just kept cracking up and once one of us was giggling, we all just couldn’t stop.” You told her, smiling as you recalled the memory.

You continued answering her questions, slightly going into autopilot with the typical questions.

You felt a slight chill go down your spine. The cool evening air felt soft against your skin, but you couldn’t help but shiver a little. You subconsciously crossed your arms and continued answering questions.

You felt a warm hand press against the small of your back. You turned around and saw Kit standing there. He gave you a soft smile. “I don’t mean interrupt. I just wanted to give you this.” Kit said, placing his jacket over your shoulders. Your lips curved up into a smile at his sweet gesture.

Then, Kit walked away to go back to the interview he was doing. You slipped your arms into Kit’s jacket, warming up instantly.

You continued rotating between interviews and posing for photographers.

Then, they called all the cast members for a big group photo. You huddled together, and Kit magically showed up at your side.

“Hi,” you said, cheerily smiling at him. He returned your smile. His arm slipped around your waist. Your big group all smiled for the photo.

Then, confetti went off above your heads, shocking you all. Kit was in awe as you watched you smiling and watching the confetti fall.

“What?” You asked when you finally noticed Kit staring at you. He just shook his head and smiled at you. He brushed some hair behind your ear, then grabbed a piece of confetti that was stuck in your hair.

He placed the confetti in his palm and playfully blew it towards you. You giggled softly to yourself. After standing there for a while, the cast starting to walk inside to the party celebrating the premiere.

Kit placed his two hands on your shoulders, so he wouldn’t lose you in the crowd. Once you both made it inside, you spotted Will, Yaz, and Joe. You made a beeline for them, and Kit followed.

“Mom and dad are back together.” Joe cheered when he spotted you both walking towards them. Yaz and Will joined his cheers and smiled at you.

“Alright, enough enough,” Kit said, trying to calm them down.

“We just love seeing you together. You’re best friends.” Will added. When Kit looked away, Will winked at you. You frowned at him, signaling him to stop.

“I’m going to go get a water. I’ll be right back.” Yaz said, and Kit followed after her. “Will told me you were going to try to make a move on Kit tonight.” Joe said, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You playfully hit Will’s arm. “That was supposed to be a secret.” You said, giggling. “Well, I’m excited for you both. You better tell me how it goes.” Joe told you.

You glanced over Will’s shoulder and saw Kit standing at the bar with Yaz. He met your gaze and smiled at you from across the room.

You continued talking to Will and Joe, then Yaz rejoined your circle. You turned, expecting to see Kit following her, but you didn’t.

Then, you saw Kit talking to a girl, who was leaning in really close to him. You instantly felt a pit of jealousy in your stomach. Will noticed where you were looking. “Hey,” he said, softly. He reached out to comfort you, but you pushed his hand away.

You started walking towards Kit, knowing you had to tell him how you felt before it was too late. The girl excused herself from him right before you got to him.

“Hey, there you are,” Kit said, smiling at you. He noticed the shift in your demeanor instantly. Normally, you were all smiles when he was around.

“So, I don’t know who that girl was, but I just really need to tell you something. I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while, but I’ve been terrified. You’re my best friend, and you mean the absolute world to me. You make me so happy, and in more than a friend way. The last thing I want to do is destroy our friendship, but I can’t keep this in anymore, so I’m sorry if I just ruined everything.” You confessed.

Kit just stared at you. You could almost see his brain trying to piece together what you had told him. Then, he cupped your face and kissed you.

It took a second for your shock to wear off, but then you kissed him back. Kit’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him. His lips moved smoothly against yours.

Both of you felt like you were on top of the world. You had been waiting a very long time for this to happen.

You both pulled out of the kiss and had giddy smiles on your face. “Wow, I can’t believe we just did that.” He said, smiling down at you.

“In a good way or a bad way?” You asked him, double-checking.

He chuckled at your uncertainty. “Definitely a good way,” he said, pulling you back in for another kiss. Over your shoulder, you heard cheering from your friends. “Mom and dad,” Will cheered.

“I guess we have a few fans.” You said, as you both pulled away. He nodded his head. “They did kind of predict the two of us having feelings for each other.” He told you, grinning.

“And here they come,” you said, seeing all your friends walking towards you. Kit grabbed your hand, interlacing your fingers and giving your hand a squeeze. “You guys finally did it.” Will cheered, pulling you both into a hug.

“Mom and dad are finally mom and dad. I love you guys,” Joe added.

When you had imagined your first kiss with Kit, all the versions you could think of involved a quiet date with just the two of you. You definitely didn’t expect it to be at a premiere, surrounded by all your friends. But now? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

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siriuslyapuff · 7 months ago

Note

Hi! Could you do a Caitlin Clark one where we surprise her at one of the Fever Games?

hi! yes ofc! sorry it’s taken me a while to post this! ive been swamped with essays for my summer classes :( i chose to do the fever game against dc where cait had one of her best games of the season! i figured it was fitting if y/n surprised her and she saw her during the first quarter and started dedicating the game to her and it helped her make her shots! i also decided to make y/n a singer who’s touring, which is why she can’t make all of cc’s games!

dc surprise c.clark x reader

caitlin clark x reader!

summary: you're on tour for festival season (its giving chappell roan) and you haven't been able to make it to one of caitlin's games for a while. you finally are able to make it to one and come to DC to surprise her!

!𝑨𝑩𝑩𝒀 𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑲𝑺¡

okay i love how this started but idk how i feel abt the ending bc i kind of rushed it but its okay

first cc fic hehehe

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: the use of y/n?

The last two months have been crazy for you. The festival season had begun, which meant you were on the road more often than not, touring all over the states, playing show after show with no breaks. It made it impossible to take any time off for yourself, making it incredibly hard to find the time to watch your girlfriend play her first few games as a pro.

You’d caught a break for her very first game, spending the week before with her while she finished up training camp and supported her through the loss of her first game pre-season, and their loss against Connecticut. But you’d only made it to a few others, including the game in Las Vegas as you’d wanted to see her and Kate play. But festivals almost every other weekend, and the process of recording your new album made it hard.

Caitlin understood she knew what she’d signed up for when she asked you to be her girlfriend two years ago. It didn’t make it easier, but she understood. You had a responsibility to your fans and to your label just as she had a responsibility for her team and the league.

The two of you had been inseparable while still in school, you taking part-time classes while juggling your rising stardom, Cait constantly at games or practice, but you lived together, and that made it easier. Right now, Caitlin lived in Indiana, and you lived in hotel rooms, scarcely able to make it back to her apartment.

Finally, there was a break in your schedule, coming only two days before you were set to perform at Gov Ball in New York. Caitlin would be in DC for a game, you’d decided to make the trip out there as it was only a few hours from the city and you could stay a few days there with her. You hadn’t told Cait your plan but you’d texted some of her teammates and Katie Lou pulled through, her family had spots courtside as her sister played for the Mystics and they had a seat for you and a few of your friends. All you had to do was let your management know about your little detour, but it wouldn’t be a huge deal because of the publicity you’d get at the game.

The public knew you and Cait were friends, and some people suspected you were more, and you were very open with your sexuality. But, Caitlin was more reserved, she wanted to keep your relationship more private, to try and keep the vultures off your backs. You’d both seen what the media could do to relationships and valued the health of your relationship over the ability to flaunt each other in public.

There were also of course the fans who shipped you with Kate. This had caused a bit of tension between you and Caitlin, especially after the Fever game in Vegas, where people pointed out it was one of the only games you’d attended. But Kate put the rumors to rest mentioning how she saw you as a younger sister on one of Jada’s lives. Which was a relief, and Cait was ready to risk it all just to prove to the internet that you were hers.

Sometimes you wondered how the internet had yet to put all the pieces together, due to all of the songs you’d written about her. It baffled you how many people assumed they were about exes and not about the girl you were with. But Caitlin thought it was hilarious, especially when you dropped your album, and ‘So High School’ wasn’t immediately connected to her.

Being at this upcoming game for Cait was important to you. The media was ripping her apart and it broke your heart that you were unable to be there and support her. Especially as you were at such a high in your career, she deserved all the love and support from you, the same support she’d given you when you were at your lowest point.

So you booked a flight to Washington, DC with a promise to your management you wouldn’t blow out your vocal chords screaming at the game, and headed to the airport early the morning of the game.

—

Everything worked out perfectly, and now you were on your way to DC for the game. Caitlin had texted you that morning letting you know she’d landed at Dulles and was heading over for practice. You’d responded, wishing her good luck tonight and that you’d be watching the game from your New York apartment couch. She of course thought you were flying to New York this morning, and was not suspicious at all that your phone was off for three hours. You just prayed no one had caught wind of you leaving Boston and was waiting at the airport when you landed. The last thing you needed was paparazzi pictures hitting the internet when you were trying to surprise your girlfriend. She had your hashtag notifications on for every website, and it was impossible to get away with any form of surprise because of the media attention you got.

Thankfully when you touched down and made your way through the airport there were no reporters. You bumped into a couple of fans, taking pictures, but asking them to wait until the next day to post pictures of you in the airport.

You took an Uber to your hotel, a hat pulled low over your eyes trying to avoid anyone recognizing you. There were a few hours left until the game and you were settling into your hotel as Cait’s name flashed on your phone, with a Facetime request.

“Hey baby,” she said when you answered, her tired eyes meeting yours.

“Hey, love.” You smiled, taking in her appearance, her ponytail a little ruffled, and her warm-up shirt soaked with sweat. “Did you just get done with practice?”

She nods, wiping a hand across her face, “yeah, we’re about to head back to the hotels to get ready for the game before shoot-around.” She pauses, eyes wandering across your face through the screen. “What are you up to?”

“Writing.” You shrug coyly, smirking as her face lit up.

“About me?” You couldn’t help but laugh at her expression.

“No, I’m writing about some other six-foot brunette who plays basketball.” Caitlin pouts which makes your stomach clench. She looks so cute when she does that. “Don’t pout at me, baby.”

She rolls her eyes, smiling again. “You’re watching the game tonight right?”

You nod, shaking your head as she always double-checked. “Yup, I have my 22 jersey ready and a bottle of wine.”

“Good,” she grins, “every shot is for you, baby.”

—

The line to get into the stadium wrapped around the building, reminding you of the pictures you’d seen of Eras Tour queues. Sometimes you were immensely glad that you were able to cut the line.

You’d texted Caitlin’s parents, meeting up with them so you all could head over to the game together. The three of you were able to cut in line, going through the family entrance, and mingling with people before finding your seats.

Deciding to wear a hat to the game had become a good idea, shielding yourself from prying eyes and the eyes of your girlfriend, not wanting to distract her before the game. It always went better for her if she found you in the crowd naturally, almost as if your presence lit a fire in her.

And lit a fire it did. Only two minutes into the game Cait spotted you. Her eyes zeroed in on your shoes first, waiting to check the ball right before you. They traveled upwards, meeting your own, a smirk across your lips. Her jaw dropped, and she quickly recovered as you winked cheekily at her.

“What the fuck,” she mouthed at you.

“Surprise,” You mouthed back, grinning. Her parents laughed, sitting beside you.

It was as if a switch had flipped. She started shooting every three, making almost every single one of them. You were on your feet, cheering for her every time she made a bucket, just like you had in college.

Caitlin was on fire, and everyone noticed, trying to figure out what had caused this winning streak. The camera panned along courtside as the half approached, the media team obviously noticing Cait’s eyes on your section every time she landed another shot.

You, Brent, and Anne smiled and waved for the camera as it hovered in front of you. All three of you glanced up, seeing yourselves on the jumbotron, your name and “Caitlin Clark’s Parents” popping up under your faces. The camera stayed there for a while, the three of you trying to maintain smiles as if became slightly awkward, finally when they moved on your eyes found Cait’s and she rolled her own, exasperation showing through.

Both of you knew this would come with tons of speculation, but you weren’t upset over it. As long as the two of you were happy, nothing would come between you, even the nosey media.

—

As soon as the game was over you were ushered to the tunnel, following behind the players yelling in excitement over the win against DC. At an away game too. You smiled, watching Cait hug Katie Lou, and Erica. Her eyes began to travel around the room, looking for someone, looking for you. When your eyes connected, she ducked out from under her teammate's arms, sprinting towards you.

You collided, her arms catching you at the top of your thighs as you jumped into the air. She spun you around, a wide smile across her lips.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” The sound of her voice sent a wave of warmth throughout your body, having only heard it through the phone for the last month.

“I couldn’t wait any longer,” you whispered into her neck as she set you down. “I missed you so much, Caity.”

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, baby.” Caitlin pulls you even closer, as if trying to make sure you’re real, and actually in her arms. “Holy shit, I literally cannot believe I’m holding you right now.”

“Believe it, baby, I’m here for another day.”

Caitlin’s face lit up. “We have all night and all day together?”

You nod, eyes wandering across her face, taking in her features, trying to ignore the pang in your heart at the bags under her eyes. “I cleared it with Christie. I’m traveling with you guys to Indiana tomorrow and flying out the morning after.”

Caitlin lunged forward, connecting her lips to yours. You smiled against hers, hands finding their way to her hair. The whistles of her teammates in the background made the two of you pull apart, breathless. She pressed another kiss to your lips quickly before turning around to face her team and shooting them a look of irritation.

“Let's get out of here,” she laces her fingers with yours, tugging you in the opposite direction of the locker room.

“Wait but don’t you have to-”

“Nope.” The two of you weave your way through the mass of people, heads down, quickly making your way toward the exit. “If Christie knows you’re here, she’ll be fine missing me for post-game.”

“But the media?” She grins at you crookedly.

“I’m not on the schedule for once.” Caitlin leans forward quickly, pressing her lips on your temple. “Now come on, we have a lot of time to make up for and only one night to do it.”

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #indiana fever #wlw post #iowa wbb #happy pride 🌈#caitlin clark x y/n #y/n #caitlin #clark #22

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narcjsistx · 2 months ago

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𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 | kaiser x reader

— part eight

plot: kaiser comforted you after a bad and slow breakup, but what will happen now considering what you two shared? is everything still unexpected or is there something you both simply have yet to realize?. fluff shit 'cause yeah!!

words: 4k (4016)

extra: it will probably become a multi part story, tell me if you're interested in a part nine!

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!. you can find the other parts of the story by searching in the section dedicated to bllk

You stood still while the stylist took your measurements, occasionally jotting them down in a notebook. Another woman helped you hold your arms out and yet another, sitting further to the side, selected on the tablet the colors that looked best on you. A little shiver often ran down your spine, but it was one of pure emotion: after weeks and weeks of stopping, being about to return to the catwalk seemed more beautiful than a miracle

The agency, which you had discovered was called TraumLaufsteg, was a medium fashion agency that wasn't very famous in Germany, but had all the credentials to become one. The staff had welcomed you very well, and not even after half an hour of conversation, you were already predestined for the fashion show that would take place in a few days to open the new fashion season. From spending every day at home, you now often came back late, if not later than Michael, who was always busy with his training until late at night. It was a newfound pace of life, tiring for sure, but one you had been used to for several years. Exhausting, but glorious. And then, Michael made the difference: in the silence of your apartment, in the dark of curious eyes, your love was growing day after day

In the morning you woke up in the same bed, you had breakfast together or one of you made it for the other if he or you had to leave the house early, you were busy all day and in the evening, now tired, you had dinner together on the sofa and then went to sleep together again. It was a cycle that had accustomed you right away, that had not caused you a bit of discomfort at the beginning as had happened to you in the early days of your cohabitation with Gabriel. Everything with Michael came out so frighteningly naturally, and you loved it, maybe more than you loved him

The media suspected you were making a comeback on the catwalk, by now all the social networks knew that you often entered the headquarters of TraumLaufsteg. It was obvious, but the world was waiting for you, and you would repay them. They also knew that you now lived in Germany, but you had kept the fact that you lived in Kaiser's house a secret. Everything was returning to your beloved rhythm; everything was returning to normality leaving aside the sadness that had accompanied you for so long

You were seriously starting to live again

"From the selection I made, we could go for something in silver and purple. Maybe we could also dare with black" says the woman with the tablet, approaching. You nod, still standing still "I've already walked the runway with these colors, especially purple" you say, and the woman nods "I noticed, I also analyzed some of your old shows. We already have some pieces that we can let you try on, so we can already start with a base" says the woman, and you smile at her "I get it. Allright"

"Kristal, when you're done here, get the clothes in dressing room 27. We can let her try them right now" the woman says, and immediately one of the women gets up and disappears from the room, returning a few minutes later with something to try. The dress she is holding is long and dark purple in color, and is made of a shiny material that looks like velvet. The dress has a low neckline that is decorated with rhinestones and stones, that form an elaborate design that resembles a flower. The top of the dress is tight and features a v-neckline at the back. The bottom of the dress is a mermaid, with a skirt that falls tight to the knees before expanding into a wide train, and the sleeves are long and tight. You stare enchanted at the dress, which as soon as you try it on is immediately named as yours

“It’s really beautiful” you say excitedly, looking at yourself in the mirror as the women nod in satisfaction “It seems made just for you. Our stylist will be thrilled to know you’re wearing her favorite" says the woman who seems to be called Kristal. You give her a kind smile and you feel the same emotion for your very first fashion show, which happened several years ago now

"What do you think of the one the assistant drew?" one woman says, and after a few seconds of silence the other nods, sending her to another dressing room. The girl returns with something: a silver dress, off the shoulder, in satin with a thigh high slit; it features a draped bodice and a fitted waistline that flows into a flowing skirt. It looks good on you, but not as good as the purple one. Women seem to notice and add a few notes on the tablet and notebook "Let's try the black one"

Kristal returns with a black velvet dress with gold chains; is sleeveless and has a halter neck. The chains are attached to the dress at the shoulders and waist; is fitted at the bodice and flares out at the bottom. This is definitely better than the other

"You'll scare even our models already in the agency, trust me Y/n. You're already ahead of the game, and you will shine"

"If you order that shit again I swear I'll take all my stuff and leave the house" you say, chewing in disgust the dinner that Michael ordered this time. He laughs, nudging you as he takes another helping of his food "Stop it. It's not that bad" he says, but you would have every right to tell him that it is absolutely shit "I don't even know what's in it and I don't even want to find out" you say "It's just vegetables and yogurt sauce" he says, and you remain impassive "You're not going to change my mind, Micheal Kaiser"

It's more than midnight, you've been home less than an hour and Kaiser just twenty minutes ago. The agency kept you much longer than expected and he had something with Bastard Munchen. Sitting on the couch, next to each other, snug as mussels, you have dinner as you've become accustomed to: couch, TV turned on to the match replay channel and fairly unpleasant food. It's become a habit to be like this by now, completely messing up meal times; but only in the evening is the time when you can be completely close. And then you don't mind having Michael's arm around your shoulders, to keep you closer to him

"Today was the dress fitting, they gave me a really nice one. They say it could be one of the best catwalk comebacks in recent years" you say, lazily watching the television, which is showing the replay of a match that Michael played a few months ago. Ness appears on the screen, easily passing the opponents of the Colombian team

"Nothing I didn't expect" he says after swallowing the food "I was wondering something on the way home" he says. Benedict, a teammate, takes the ball after Ness's pass, dribbling past a boy who's taller than a two legged bear

"Like?" you ask turning towards him

"Usually when they offer us players a collaboration they give us all the information about the agency, whether it's fashion or some bullshit like that. They force us to read contracts hundreds of meters long just to get us to sign a stupid signature" he says, and you nod "Well, they give us a lot of information. But from what you've been telling me from the beginning, it seems to me that this agency hasn't given you much more information besides some that you asked for. It seems strange to me, that's all"

You think about his words. In reality he is not entirely wrong, taking away some information that you had, you were not told much. You do not deny that you had had a lot of other proposals from other agencies, but you had chosen this one because it seemed interesting to you. You had searched on the Internet, and beyond some basic information on their site or some other review, there was nothing else. The founder was unknown, you only knew that he was someone extremely rich who was more important in the world of photography than fashion. You had signed a contract with them pretty much the same day, but now because of this thing Kaiser had told you, you were thinking that accepting pretty much right away wasn't the best idea

You also had to admit that the only agency you had worked for was Gabriel's, which had practically always made you the best. You were inexperienced in this field.

"I hadn't thought about it, I have to be honest. But I think they did because they're not a very well known agency, and they probably don't know how contracts and everything work. I talked to a few other models and now that I think about it they seemed a bit perplexed" you say thinking

"So how long have you been working for the agency?" you ask, sipping a coffee that they just brought you "Oh! At least three years, or something like that" says the woman, who you've discovered is a little younger than you and on hers first catwalks "I'm glad! They all seem very welcoming, or at least at the beginning" you say, playing it down, and the girl laughs but you see her a little perplexed "Did I say something wrong?" you say, and he shakes her hands "No, no absolutely! I was just thinking... well, I can't complain about the staff, not even the photographers actually. But they're quite stupid, if I may say so, in their contracts or in their management" says the woman, and you find yourself a little surprised by her words "Like?" you ask "Oh, well... I was listed as their model but the contract had expired at least a year ago. Which I didn't know, let's be specific! I had to find out because of a coincidence... let's say they're not very precise about this, y'know" she says, and you nod "Did you have any problems too?" she asks, but you shake your head "Oh, no. Actually none. Or at least for the moment..." you say thinking about it "Yeah, maybe it was just my coincidence" she says sipping her drink

"But I think I'm safe. They're treating me like a precious jewel and at the same time I'm not afraid to pay a lawyer in case something happens" you say, and Micheal chuckles slightly at your words "I understand. Do as you wish. I'm just telling you to be careful, because I don't have a good feeling" he says, and you huff and rest your head on his shoulder "Less worries and more nice food" you say, and this time you're the one laughing because of Micheal's annoyed face

“Anyway, I was wondering…” you say, after a bit of silence. The TV was turned off a while ago, after the replay of Kaiser’s goal in the old game. The food boxes are now scattered on the coffee table, promising you that you’ll throw them in the trash before going to bed “Hmm?” he murmurs, stopping to run his hand up and down your back, while you’re lying on top of him “I didn’t tell you to stop. I was saying… the fashion show is coming up soon, right?” you say, and he nods "Less than a week. Or something like that" he says, and it's you this time who nods "Yes. The night of your game" you say "I already told you I'll be there. It doesn't take me that long to shower and come over to wherever you are" he says, huffing but affectionately "I know. But at the same time I don't want you to have to rush for a simple fashion show. You can just come backstage after I'm done" you say, and he shakes his head "It's your moment, a moment that you deserve by the way. How can I not be when I know my girl is going to shine?" he says

Even after all the kisses and nights spent together, this name still has a certain effect on you. He's used it a lot since you've been together, and every time it seems to strike a chord in you that sounds so loving for the boy called 'the emperor'. You smile almost spontaneously, tilting your head so that it ends up against his arm. Being loved again is so damn good that sometimes you wonder if you were seriously so stupid as not to notice Kaiser when you were comparing him to Gabriel

You were hating the cover, which you knew would last a long time, but you knew it was the best decision, although at the same time you knew how Micheal was ready to break it any time you wanted. It's just that now, with all the love you have, you feel like you don't deserve it because you're not used to it. You're not used to good morning kisses, hugs when you get home, caresses while you're doing something else. You're used to sharp jokes when you've done something slightly wrong, you're used to moments of silence when you have no desire other than to talk, you're used to an empty house for days on end without anyone bothering to come. You weren't used to all those little attentions that Gabriel had given you only at the beginning of the relationship, and that he did every now and then to keep you tied to his finger. You're used to your ex, and not to the wonderful boyfriend you now have and who you knew would always treat you well, in friendship and in a possible love. The difference is that now this boy was the same one who was kissing you. You didn't even know when he started, but it must have been a few seconds ago because his lips were still a tad cold. You kissed him back, resting your hand against his cheek as he continued to move his hand up and down your back, sending many small, beautiful shivers down your spine. You smile through the kiss, and when he pulls away a few millimeters it's only to come back rougher, but not before whispering something to you "You have no idea how much I just want to see you shine from now on. Act and live like the empress you are"

You were really fucked up. And you loved it.

The floral and sugary smell that could be felt in the room was gradually becoming stronger and more present. They were spraying it on the models, on their clothes, on their bags and on their accessories. Everything was now at the end and soon the most beautiful and absurd chaos ever would break out. For each model, and you could count at least 20, there were on average two or three assistants who fixed the make up or the dress. Instead, you had around you about ten assistants who for at least an hour did not let you take even a step forward. The purple dress was shining on you, and the makeup only made you more detailed according to Kristal. There were ten minutes left until the show started, and the thrills of emotion were getting stronger and stronger

You had announced on your social media account that you would be attending the show only yesterday afternoon. The media had exploded, literally exploded: the speculation of your return had just been verified as true, and the last spots of the show had already been booked by your fans. The organizers had even had to add another section of seats due to demand, and this was all because of you. Now it was just a matter of finishing the job, walking that damned catwalk and showing that you didn't give a shit about Gabriel anymore, that he had destroyed you but that you still had your life in your hands

"Two minutes, hurry up!" someone shouts, and the hands on you become even faster. You smile, because it's the only thing you know how to do, thinking that now you're really giving meaning to so many tears you've shed, that now you're really coming back, and that there's someone, an entire audience, waiting for you beyond this cloth. An audience in which you know there's also Michael, who after winning the match this afternoon has catapulted himself into the first row of seats, the closest to the catwalk and then to you

"One minute, get in line!" a woman shouts, and someone tells you how to move, putting you at the front of the line of people behind you, which now seems like at least 30. You nod at the assistants' last words of advice, which you don't really hear because you've been a professional for a few years and have learned them by heart: look straight ahead, take a firm step and the show goes on at all costs, literally all

The opening music starts. The cloth is hoisted above and a series of spotlights are projected towards you, who begins to walk straight towards the audience. The music chosen for you begins to reach your ears, and as soon as your figure is visible to the audience, the crowd erupts in a roar that you cannot describe. You smile determinedly, step controlled, emotions in order even if you literally want to scream with happiness. You are back, you are officially back on track

You walk, you show your dress, nothing you haven't done a million times, but this time it has a sweeter taste. The flashes of the photographers illuminate you, making the dark purple of the fabric respond. The crowd watches, tries to greet you, everyone at this moment has their eyes on you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, something they've never seen

"And after a break from the spotlight, the most anticipated return of the moment in the world of fashion: Y/n L/s, in a dress by German designer Ursula..." says the presenter, but you stop listening when, in the front row, you see Kaiser's face: he looks at you like the others, as if they had never seen a person like that, but with an affection that only you can understand. It's love, and you know it well. It's a reciprocated love, that you return with your eyes the moment you pass in front of him. You want to shine for everyone tonight, but most of all for yourself and for him, who gave you the push to start over

You walk until you reach the end of your shift, where you stop before the exit of the catwalk: you turn around and throw a flying kiss to the audience, who responds with such an energy that it makes you emotional, when you go back backstage. You return to the dark, and the moment of glory ends; the assistants and models still in line congratulate you, and you can only thank them gratefully. You shed a few tears, but they are of joy. You feel so damn alive right now

The show continues, the whole crowd appreciates every single dress, but especially yours. Almost an hour later you are back on the catwalk, along with all the other models after the final walk; you smile, there is someone crying but you don't blame them. You look at Michael for practically every second, and you really want to run and hug him, scream "see? I did it, I really did it!" but you know you have to wait a little longer before doing so

"...and after this speech, which I admit I made with my heart in my throat knowing the importance of this show, I would like to thank someone who is really important to me and for all the work that is behind all this" says the designer, after having concluded her speech. You look at her, curious about who she wants to name and of whom you know nothing. It is actually true, they have not yet given you the information you were talking about with Kaiser that evening

"I would like to ask the crowd to give a huge round of applause for Gabriel Dicardio!" says the woman

Gabriel. Gabriel Dicardio. Gabriel, your ex. The man who gave you the worst time of your life in the last few months and destroyed you. What the fuck is Gabriel doing here?. The boy steps onto the catwalk, waving to the crowd as he approaches the designer. They seem friendly with each other, as if they have known each other for years, so much so that he kisses her cheek as if nothing had happened: you don't remember him ever speaking to you about this woman during your relationship. You remain still, practically petrified. He knew you were here, he knew it perfectly from the beginning

"I think Ursula shouldn't thank me. The dresses are hers, great as always and each time they seem to be even more precise. Instead, I want to thank her for all her precision and the organizers of the fashion show, because they did a job without a single mistake. Being the second founder of the agency has always been close to my heart, because I know how much the fashion market here in Germany can still shine and bring great results" he says, and at the end of the sentence he turns to you, smiling at you. But you're not smiling anymore, you can't even breathe anymore since he's just a few meters away from you again

What does founder mean? Did he create this agency? Didn't he only have an Italian one?

"You shouldn't, Gabriel. In fact, it's me who's thanking you again. Rather, you know our tradition well... right? Come on, it should be even more pleasant than usual since she's there!" Ursula says laughing, and Gabriel nods "Definitely. Your tradition of always having the last photo with the guest of the evening taken with the main model of the evening... what a strange tradition, who knows who invented it" he says laughing, and your blood runs cold. You are the main model

You have to get closer to Gabriel again, and only now the feeling makes you want to throw up. Everyone pretends that there isn't a worldwide scandal going on between the two of you, as if he hadn't been throwing shit at you a few hours ago like he's been doing since this all started. You stand there, unable to move while the other models encourage you to keep going. You don't want to go on, you don't want to. You don't want to be even remotely in Gabriel's sphere of contact, to feel his hands on your body again. Petrified, you seek Kaiser's gaze, which shines with the same emotion as you: he is amazed, if not downright angry. He reflect yourself in his cerulean eyes, and you feel like you're about to have a panic attack if it's not already underway

The models push you towards Gabriel, who grabs you with one hand on your hip and the other in his pocket. The photographers start taking pictures of you together, even though you can't smile now, unlike him, who comes out perfect in the photos. A void forms inside you, eating you alive as you slowly disappear and the last part of your sanity goes away. Everyone laughs, jokes, lives. You are thinking about running away, about how disgusting his hands are on your skin and how the panic attack is becoming more and more present

"Smile. They're loving us" he whispers, while you don't even know how to move a simple arm because of the situation "Get ready, because the second act between us is about to begin"

tag(s): @rroxii ; @kittenish0 ; @bungoustraydogsno1fan (if you want to be tagged tell me!)

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bluemari23 · 9 months ago

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don't wanna cry || choi seungcheol

summary: you had been ignored and neglected again, on the night of your soul bond anniversary. you were tired and felt defeated. and it took just that for your soulmate to snap out of his funk and remind you of why you were soulmates.

pairing: choi seungcheol x reader

genre: soulmates, soul bonds, soulmarks, angst, major angst

warnings: reader feels neglected, mentions of past issues, minor mention of death, cheol messes up bad and tries to fix it

word count: 1.5k

masterlist

---------------------------

It had been the fourth time the boys had run through the dance, Hoshi demanding they get it perfect once before leaving for the night. This specific dance had been trouble for some of the boys, different sections needing tweaking before Hoshi would give the okay.

You were supposed to be going out to dinner with your soulmate; it was the anniversary of when you met and your soulbond kicked in. Seungcheol said he made a reservation at your favorite restaurant, and to dress nice. But when time passed, and it got closer to the time you were supposed to be ready and he still wasn’t home, you got worried.

So, you got ready and went to the company, and found your soulmate and his band still practicing.

“Oh goodness, baby! I didn’t even realize. I’m so sorry. I can’t leave until we get this dance right.” Seungcheol had run up to you, your outfit earning you a few teasing whistles from the boys and them earning a scowl from their leader.

You sighed inside, knowing how dedicated your soulmate was to his group, but you couldn’t help the neglect you had been feeling lately. Tour season was coming up, and Seungcheol was just coming off from an injury. You knew he felt compelled to do his best for his group and for carat’s but sometimes you felt like you didn’t fit into the fold.

“It’s okay, Cheol. I’ll wait.” And you did, you sat in one of the chairs off to the side and watched as they practiced the choreography again and again.

Time passed and you missed your reservation, you realized as you looked at your phone, checking the time. Your home screen a picture of you and Cheol, a big smile on your face as he pressed a messy kiss to your cheek. It was from your first date, a couple months after you found each other and his name appeared on your forearm in gold.

You knew that Seungcheol was an idol, but you still couldn’t help but to feel selfish for wanting to be a part of his life; wanting him to spend time with you instead of staying up, for him to come home and instead falling asleep after midnight. You wanted him to make an effort to spend time with you instead of you staying around and waiting for him.

You were soulmates but you felt more like a roommate.

“Hey Cheolie, I think I’m gonna head back home.” You finally gave up; it was a little after ten pm and your reservation was scheduled for six pm. You had been here for hours and he hadn’t even glanced your way.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I—I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” Seungcheol said the words he said every time, and you wanted to nod along to his words like every time, smiling softly at his empty promises, but you didn’t have the energy to this time.

“I uhm, think I might go spend the weekend at my friend’s. She’s been wanting to uhm catch up. Don’t wait up.” You couldn’t help but sound defeated, not even giving your soulmate a smile as you spoke. You were tired.

“Goodbye boys!” You yelled out looking past Seungcheol and waved goodbye to the boys before leaving, not acknowledging him.

You couldn’t hide the tears you felt falling as you wondered if soulmates always ended up together.

-*-*-

Seungcheol felt stunned, your actions and expressions making him wonder what happened. He noticed the tired expression on your face and how defeated you sounded and it had him wondering what he did.

“Hey, is Y/n okay?” Joshua walked up to him as Hoshi called a break, obviously knowing something was going on.

“I—I don’t know?” Seungcheol was confused, his eyes still watching the door you just walked out of.

“Well, when was the last time you two talked?” Seungcheol’s mind tried coming up with any recent moment of just the two of you, but he couldn’t and Joshua could tell.

“Cheol, do you remember what you planned tonight?” He asked again and grew a little annoyed at how clueless his leader was when he didn’t answer.

“Look, I understand that you want to jump right back into everything, but that doesn’t mean you neglect your soulmate. Tonight was your soul anniversary and instead of spending it with your soulmate, who was dressed so nice and pretty for you, she had to sit and watch us practice for five hours.” Joshua laid it down for him.

Seungcheol couldn’t believe how bad he let things get. You had been through a lot this year, you both have. You lost your mom only a couple months back, right before his ACL tear, and you took care of him through the surgery and recovery. You had to travel home alone for the funeral because he was advised not to fly. You had done so much for him and he couldn’t even give you the time of day recently?

What kind of soulmate was he?

He knew he needed to make it up to you, and change. He needed to show you how much he loved and appreciated you. He needed to show you why you were meant to be together. He needed to be treating you like a goddess that needed worshipping.

He looked down at his watch and back up to Joshua before running out of the room, hoping to catch you at the apartment before you left.

And he had just barely made it, opening the door to see you picking up your dufflebag.

“Baby! Please wait.” He shut the door behind him, locking it for good measure.

You couldn’t look him in the eye, not wanting to in case you accepted his blank words again. You couldn’t keep doing that to yourself.

“Y/n, please. I know I have been an ass lately. I’ve been such a bad soulmate to you.” You weren’t expecting his words and looked up at him, shocked.

“I’ve been neglecting the most important person in the world to me, and it stops now. I didn’t realize what I was doing, I just… I just grew too complacent knowing you would always be there. I pushed myself wanting to be better for carats and I ignored who I should really be pushing myself to be better for.”

You both had tears in your eyes now. Seungcheol kept stepping forward until he was right in front of you, your bag now on the floor as he held your hands in his, holding them to his chest.

“I love you so much and sometimes I don’t know how to show it.” You opened your mouth to speak but he shook his head.

“No, please, I—I will do better, I will treat you like the princess you are. I can’t lose you.” You could see something changed in the way he looks at you. How he holds you. He hasn’t held you like this in a while.

“I—one last chance, Cheol. I—I can’t keep going and just hope you look at me once when you get home. I need you to make me a priority too, Cheol. I can’t keep wondering if you truly want me or not.” You finally tell him how you feel, trying not to hold back once you see the tears start falling down his cheeks.

“You thought I didn’t want you?” He was heartbroken. He didn’t realize he had let things get this bad. His own soulmate thought he didn’t want her.

His hands moved up to hold and caress your cheeks, taking a couple of seconds before he surged forward, capturing your lips in his. The taste of your salty tears on his tongue as he pulled back.

“Of course I want you. I will always want you.” He pulled you into his arms, unable to hold back now.

“I’m never going to let you go. You’re stuck with me forever and I will spend that forever worshipping you and never letting you go without knowing I want you and love you.” You let out a sob at his words, not knowing how much you needed this moment, his touch and reassurance.

“Now, you sit down and keep looking like your beautiful self, and I’m going to make us an amazing dinner, with candles and rose petals and everything.” Seungcheol made himself busy, knowing how much you believe that actions speak louder than words.

You had gone through a flurry of emotions tonight but couldn’t help but to still love the sight of you goofy and sometimes slow, soulmate as he begins to season the steak you had in the fridge, your favorite vegetable to the side as moves around the kitchen.

Relationships were always about communication, but sometimes actions truly did speak louder than words.

#seventeen soulmate au #scoups seventeen #seventeen headcanons #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #scoups #scoups x reader #scoups soulmate #svt scoups x reader #svt headcanons #svt scoups #soulmate au #soulmates #bluemari23

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allieslittlewritings · 1 month ago

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Homemade Ornaments

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Summary: How the Reids spend the Christmas season

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: None that I know of :)

A/n: Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate <3

Christmas in the Reid household was always a little bit extra. Spencer could count how many actually enjoyable Christmases he had growing up on one hand. Even as an adult, before having you, it was a time when he more often than not just felt the sickening feeling of loneliness eat him up. He once bought himself a Christmas tree and decorated it with ornaments he bought. For a second it was nice. Until it wasn't. It didn't feel the same as when he was five and him and his parents would dedicate hours to decorating their tree. It felt lonely and desperate. He didn't have the heart to put that tree up again.

Until you were born. For you, he would make Christmas fun and lively for as long as he physically could.

Your first Christmas was one of Spencer's favorite days of his life. Though you couldn't actually participate in decorating the Christmas tree or baking the cookies you couldn't eat, it no longer felt lonely.

Even if all you did was wordlessly stare at the pretty lights on the tree, it filled Spencer's heart with joy. You were going to love Christmas, he made sure of that.

The older you got, and the more things you were able to do, Spencer happily made up new family traditions for the two of you.

You always decorated the tree together. There wasn't a set date you did it, given his unpredictable work schedule. Sometimes it was as early as November 29th, and sometimes as late as Christmas Eve.

Spencer was busy attempting to plug the Christmas lights in while you made cups of hot chocolate. The same playlist of Christmas songs you listened to every year was quietly playing in the background.

You stood in wait, hot drinks in hand, and watched Spencer struggle far more than he should have knowing he'd done that every year for over a decade.

"Can I please just help you?" you asked.

"Nope, you could get electrocuted."

"So could you."

"True, but that's different," he insisted. "It would be irresponsible of me to knowingly put you in harm's way."

Finally, after what felt like a very long seventeen minutes and nineteen seconds, Spencer happily emerged from behind the tree. He adjusted his ugly Christmas sweater and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and then turned the lights on.

You lovingly admired the lights and handed your dad his mug.

"Ah, thank you, sweetheart."

You sat down in front of the tree and quietly sipped your drinks for a minute before you started hanging ornaments.

You cringed a little when you picked up the very misshapen ornament you made when you were a toddler. "Do we really have to hang this one up?"

Spencer gasped in hurt and took the ornament from your hand. "Yes. The tree would be incomplete without it. It was the first one you made without my help." You couldn't help but notice the absent-minded smile on his face as he admired the ornament in his hand.

Few words were spoken as you contently sat and continued decorating and sipping hot chocolate for the next hour or two. Every now and then you would reminisce on another old ornament. By the time you were done, Spencer could only count two that were store-bought.

Despite very year's activities being more or less the same, the tree, decorations, hot chocolate, music, and Christmas sweaters (Spencer bought you one slightly bigger than your size so you wouldn't grow out of it), it never got less enjoyable for either of you.

Baking cookies used to be a lot more chaotic. Spencer wasn't necessarily bad at baking, he just happened to burn or overbake cookies sometimes in fear of them not being baked enough and leading to you getting salmonella.

When you were old enough to help bake, the cookies turned out a lot better, they were (usually) edible.

This year you wanted to try baking gingerbread men. You gathered all the ingredients, your mixing bowl, and measuring cups.

While you made icing, Spencer measured out the ingredients. He liked to tell you about the exact ingredients and their chemical reactions when mixed together. It made baking twice as fun.

On the dining table you laid out things you could use to decorate your cookies. Frosting, chocolate chips, crushed pieces of candy. You removed a bowl of melted chocolate from the microwave and added that, too.

For no real reason, you and Spencer were excessively precise with your first ones, making sure your little gingerbread men looked like they were from a decorating cookbook. Admittedly, his looked a little better than yours.

Your second ones you did were far more messy. They all tasted the same any way, and the two of you devoured every bite.

Building snowmen was one of your personal favorite winter activities. Spencer always insisted you wear warm enough clothes, almost in excess when you were little.

Your snowman was almost complete, but it needed one last thing. And only then did you realize you failed to bring it with you.

"Dad, please tell me you remembered a carrot for his nose," you said, a dramatic amount of worry in your voice.

Spencer laughed quietly, "I was hoping you would remember but since you didn't..." He reached into your snowman making bag (something you thought of when you were four) and pulled out a carrot.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." You excitedly added the carrot to your snowman's face and stepped back to admire you and your dad's work.

"I think he looks gorgeous," you gushed.

"I have to agree," Spencer said. "Now, let's build him a daughter."

Christmas movies were a staple for the Reids during the holiday season. Most films you watched throughout the month were rewatches, but you would occasionally watch something new.

Spencer settled comfortably on the couch and and sipped his eggnog. You were busy putting your favorite Christmas movie in the DVD player. When you once suggested watching it on a streaming service, Spencer was horrified and told you to never say that again.

"How many times have we watched this movie?" you curiously asked your dad as the film started.

Spencer swallowed a gulp of soup. "Thirty-one and a half. If we continue at that rate, we'll be at a hundred-and-four when you're my age."

Not every Christmas was celebrated on actual Christmas Day. Spencer tried his best to be there every year but sometimes it simply wasn't possible. This year he was lucky enough to have the whole day off.

You woke up bright and early, so as to extend Christmas as far as possible, and sneaked to your dad's room.

Spencer snored quietly as he slept. You softly walked over to him and poked his arm repeatedly. "Dad."

Spencer hummed in response without actually opening his eyes. "It's Christmas, wake the fuck up."

Tiredly blinking his eyes open, Spencer started to groggily sit up. "Language." He wiped sleep out of his eyes and looked at the alarm clock next to his bed. "Sweetie, it's barely 6 AM."

"And?" You fiddled with the strings on your hoodie.

"And, your dad needs sleep." He lay back down with a groan but he could tell you weren't going anywhere.

He sighed and sat up again. "Fine, go get our hats."

You squealed happily and ran to get your mandatory Santa hats from the living room.

You already had yours on when you got back to his room.

"Running on socks is a bad idea." He yawned.

"Will coffee make you less of a Grinch?" you put his hat on his head, making sure to adjust his hair accordingly so it wouldn't feel off to him.

Spencer smiled tiredly. "Yes. Yes, it will."

The two of you made your way to the kitchen and you started making your coffee while Spencer put waffles in the toaster for breakfast.

He added whipped cream and chocolate chips to your waffles and crafted an almost snowman shaped clump.

You sat down in the living room — you opted for sitting on the floor in front of the couch — and ate your waffle.

You and Spencer were by no means chefs, but you still managed to make a decently good Christmas-esque meal. Some of the food was admittedly store-bought but you still tried to make a couple of things yourselves. The next few hours were spent cooking, baking, and talking with soft music playing.

Regardless of how well a dish actually turned out, you loved cooking with your dad. If it were anyone else you'd likely bump into them every other minute but you and Spencer worked well together. It was frankly quite surprising given your shared knack for clumsiness.

Spencer handed you a cherry and ate one himself. That was a mistake. You both thought the cherries were exceptionally good and thus the dessert you made ended up severely lacking in them.

"Two is probably enough, right?" You placed two cherries on top of the cake.

Spencer nodded in agreement as he popped another one in his mouth. "Definitely."

Once all the food was done, you took all of it to the dining table and set it out nicely.

"Bone apple teeth," you said with a bad attempt at a southern accent.

Spencer cringed. "Y/n..."

You cleared your throat. "Да ти е сладко." You smiled.

"Velbekommen," Spencer said back.

You continued to say the same phrase in every language the two of you knew. You stopped when you got bored, Spencer could say it in at least three more languages.

You took your emptied plates to the kitchen, though you delayed washing them until much later, and then joined your dad by the Christmas tree holding two slices of cake.

Every year, you challenged yourself to find Spencer a book you thought he would like, but hadn't read yet. This year you finally found one of the books you knew he'd been looking for for a long time. An old book from the early 19th century written by a not-so-famous mathematician.

Along with the book, which he greatly appreciated, you also got him a T-shirt and an oversized hoodie, one red and one purple. Ninety-nine percent of his outfits were made up of button-up shirts and ties, you wanted to get him something comfortable.

"Are these-"

"The exact hexcodes of your favorite shades of your favorite colors? Yes."

Spencer laughed. "Thank you, I love it."

"Did you know that in my entire lifetime, I've only ever seen you in an outfit without a button-up shirt two hundred and seventy-four times?" You asked.

"Okay, well, I happen to like all my button-up shirts," Spencer mused, looking down at his pajamas. "But I was not aware it was that little, no."

"Open your present." He took another bite of cake.

You reached forward and picked up your present. You opened it softly and carefully, in an attempt to not tear the pretty wrapping paper Spencer used.

Once you finally saw what it was a soft smile graced your face.

A Lego set related to your current favorite subject, with over a thousand pieces.

He'd also handwritten you a loving card.

You stood up and walked over to your dad and tightly hugged him from behind. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, sweetheart." He turned around to hug you back.

After you finished eating your cake, Spencer suggested watching that other movie a thirty-third time and you readily agreed.

You paused the movie twenty-nine minutes and twenty-four seconds in and looked over at your dad, getting unnecessarily close to him. "Do you want to go make hot chocolate?" you whispered.

He rested his forehead against yours and whispered, "Yes."

You followed him to the kitchen and sat on the kitchen counter, going on a random tangent about a topic very vaguely mentioned in the movie you were watching.

Spencer added mini candy canes and marshmallows as well as whipped cream to your drinks.

You cozily continued your movie and rested your head on Spencer's shoulder.

"You make Christmas fun," you mumbled.

"Thank you," Spencer said genuinely, pulling you into a hug. "You make Christmas even more fun."

#spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid x child!reader #spencer reid #daughter!reader #criminal minds #fanfiction #allieslittlewritings ★#allieslittlechristmas 🎄#i would pay an absurd amount of money to see spencer tiredly smiling while wearing a santa hat #christmas #merry christmas to those who celebrate

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bvbygrl-writes · 4 months ago

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Season of The Witch (5)

Pairing: Jacob Black x Witch!Reader x Edward Cullen

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: (Y/n) (L/n) is 19 and still trying to figure out the world. She isn't sure of a lot of things but she is sure of one: she's gonna have her cake and eat it too.

A/N: An Edward dedicated chapter <3

Warnings: N/A but it will be 18+ at some point most likely. Minors and blanks dni. Also I didn't edit any of it so ignore any typos.

As the month went by, you and Jacob were spending a lot more time together. He had taken you to La Push where you had lunch with him and his pack. He’d driven you to the Cliff where Uley and the others would jump during the nights you couldn’t sleep. The two of you would sit there for hours, just staring up at the stars, listening as the water crashed on the jagged rocks below. Those were the nights you enjoyed the most. Where you’d wake up laying beside each other under your coats that he had formed into blankets. He’d always come over for breakfast the next morning, your mom gushing over how sweet he was, dad eyeing him up protectively.

And although you enjoyed every second of it, you also found yourself feeling guilty. You knew you liked Jacob, there wasn’t a single doubt about it. There was a clear connection between you that felt so natural, felt so right. But a lot of times, your mind also went back to Edward. The feeling of his cold hands on your face that day was something you couldn’t forget. He was like a constant presence that loomed in the back of your mind and the very tip of your heart. You had to see him again.

“You okay?” Bella asked, placing a concerned hand on your shoulder. You squeeze the warm mug of hot chocolate in your hand, curling it close to your body. The days were growing colder but you still enjoyed sitting on your porch, watching the bright colored leaves fall from the trees. Sighing, you give her a half smile as you nod.

“I’m okay it’s just..” you trail off, nibbling at your bottom lip as you turn to face her, crossing your legs on the couch. “What do you know about Edward Cullen? I know you mentioned that you’re dating his sister.” you asked. She quirked a brow, staring at you. You squirmed uncomfortably under her gaze.

“Where is this coming from? You’ve never mentioned him before.” she says, an amusement in her tone. You look down at your lap, setting your mug down on the table to your side.

“I-I don’t know. It’s just, I met him a few days after I moved here and I can’t stop thinking about him. With Jacob out patrolling with his pack the past week, it’s given my mind more freedom to wander.” you admit, shrugging your shoulders sheepishly. “I just feel so guilty, I really like Jacob but…”

“Hey, why don’t you come over with me to the Cullen’s place tonight? I was going to go over there anyways, maybe then you’ll know if it’s just a crush or a passing thing.” she suggested, rubbing your arm affectionately. You play with your rings for a moment before agreeing.

“It couldn’t hurt. Plus, I’m not doing myself any favors pouting in my room about not being able to see Jake.” the two of you had been texting in his absence but, it wasn’t as good as having the real thing there with you. “I’m going to need to change first because this,” you point at yourself, motioning to your baggy sweatpants, sweatshirt, and bunny slippers, “Isn’t doing me any favors.” you and Bella share a laugh as she rolls her eyes.

“You’re so extra sometimes. It’s not like you’re meeting the pope.” you gasp at the accusation, hopping up from the couch.

“Meeting a house full of vampires is a huge deal, Bells! The better I look the less likely they are to wanna drink my oh so rare and delicious witchy blood! Or at least I hope.” You grab her hand, dragging her into the house and up the stairs. “I promise it won’t take long! Just an hour…or two.”

“Or two?!”

An hour and a half later, you and Bella are hopping out of her red truck. You pull your cardigan closer to yourself, priming your appearance in the reflection on the body of the vehicle. As the two of you approach the door, a blonde man opens the door. He smiles at Bella before smiling at you too. He extends a hand which you shake.

“Carlisle Cullen. I work with your father down at the hospital.” he explains, you nod along searching for words to say.

“Nice to meet you. Dad says you’re great at what you do.” you compliment.

“That’s great to hear. In all my years, I’ve never seen someone as great and passionate about what they do. He’s got me beat for sure.” he responds humbly. You can tell he’s a very kind and composed man. You hope you can say the same for the rest of his family. Carlisle opens the door wider, stepping to the side for the two of you to enter.

A brunette woman comes down the stairs. She sniffs the air before letting out a pleasured sigh. “A witch. I haven’t smelled one of those in years. My goodness that is divine.” she says before walking towards you. You freeze, going to lift your hand in case she decides to attack you. However, she doesn’t. Instead, she gives you a quick hug before releasing you. “I’m Esme, Carlisle’s wife. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Finally? Before you can ask what she means, a blur runs up to you hugging you in a much more intense fashion. You feel like your bones are gonna snap before she releases you. She has a soft grip on your shoulders as she smiles at you full of glee.

“You’re the girl!” she squeals out excitedly.

“Um, I’m sorry?” you ask confused. A set of approaching footsteps catches your attention. Your heart flutters at the sight of Edward, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He gives you a once over before your eyes lock on each other.

“That’s Alice. She can see the future.” he states. You nod before turning back towards Alice who’s still looking at you with excitement.

“I saw you coming before you were even in town!” you nod, understanding her former words now. Her eyes grow distant as if she’s seeing something before she stumbles back a bit. She looks from you, to the necklace Jacob had given you around your neck, and back to Edward again. “You’re going to have your hands quite full!” with that she runs from you over to Bella. You watch as she lifts her, spinning her in the air as she gives her a loving kiss. She then leans down to her ear whispering something. Bella’s eyes grow wide as she looks at you before turning her attention back to Alice.

Edward grabs your shoulder, turning you to face him. “I’m sure they’re going to be like that for a while. Would you like a tour?” he asks. You nod, playing with your fingers shyly.

“I’d like that.”

As your tour concludes, you end up in the entrance to Edward’s room. The shelves are lined with CDs. A lot of them are classical ones but a few of them are some names you recognize. You pick up Favorite Worst Nightmare by the Arctic Monkeys, removing it from its case before popping it into the player. You turn around at the sound of Edward closing the door. He motions for you to sit on the chase in the room and as you do, he sits with you.

“Your house is beautiful by the way. I mean, I wouldn’t be able to get a wink with all the windows but…I guess that isn’t an issue for you. Sorry, is that offensive? I didn’t mean it lik-” he squeezes your thigh gently and you stop rambling. He smiles softly, shaking his head.

“You’ve been doing your research clearly. Don’t worry, you couldn’t offend me even if you tried. I don’t think I could ever be mad at you.” he says, dragging the back of his hand down the side of your cheek. Your eyes flutter close for a moment before opening as he begins to speak again. “I’ve been thinking about you all month. I wanted to come and see you again but anytime I got close to your house, there was the overwhelming stench of dog.” he says, his nose twisting up at the thought. “Not even your scent could mask it.” you look down at your chest, playing with the wolf pendant around your neck. You miss how he looks at it in disdain.

“Jacob’s nice, you know. I think you guys could be friends even if there wasn’t a natural hatred between the two of you.” you explain, looking back up at him. “A-and the feeling is mutual. I’ve been thinking about you more than I’d like to admit.” he scoots closer to you, a smirk present on his face.

“Why don’t you embrace it? Clearly something is drawing us closer to one another. I think that’s a beautiful thing.” he mutters. His face slowly inches closer and closer. He brushes some of your hair. Your heart thumps wildly in nerves and anticipation. You think he’s going to kiss you until he places a kiss on your cheek instead. Goosebumps trail up and down along your spine. “Relax, I’m not going to steal your first kiss from you. At least not yet.” he whispers in your ear before pulling back to look at your face. You splutter a bit as he chuckles.

“That is so not funny!” you exclaim, swatting him in the chest. He’s got a smug grin on his face, revealing his sharp canines.

“No. But, you’re very cute when you’re nervous.” flipping him off, you lean your back onto the cold glass of the window, attempting to cool yourself down. He watches you, grabbing one of your hands. You don’t pull it away, allowing him to hold it. You let out a faux cough, looking away from him as you turn your eyes back to the cds in front of you.

“So, you like music? I see most of it classical aside from a few albums. Is that by choice or lack of knowledge?” you question, turning your attention back to him.

“A bit of both. I’ve tried branching out before, it’s just kind of hard to find things I enjoy with how vast music is now.” he explains. You hum, nodding.

“You know, I could burn you a few tapes. Since you seem adverse to the world of modern technology.” you tease. He rolls his eyes.

“I’m not adverse to it. Music just always sounds better on tape. The vocals are much richer and you can truly hear the tones.” Only Ones Who Know comes on. It was always one of your favorites off the album. You sway a bit, mouthing the lyrics to it. Edward stands up, offering you a hand. You shake your head.

“Nu uh, no way.” he ignores your protest, yanking you up. You trip a bit, stabling your hands on his shoulders. Reluctantly, you begin to sway in sync with him. It’s a very simplified waltz as he spins you around slowly, dipping you down. Your foreheads are pressed together before he puts you back up right. He holds your hand up and you reluctantly spin, laughing as you fall forward into his chest. He wraps his arms around your waist, holding you there, your hands pressed against his chest. It’s as if time freezes as the two of you stand there. You’ve been there for a while, the last track on the album playing.

“Alice is thinking of asking Bella to stay the night. Would you allow me the honor of taking you home?” Edward asks hopefully, pulling back to look at you. You pretend to think on it for a long time as he shakes you gently.

“Alright, alright! Yes, you can take me home. Which car is- woah!” you shout as he swings you onto his back at a super human speed before jumping out of the window on the far side. “Holy shit can you warn a girl next time?!”

“So there will be a next time then?” his tone is laced with playfulness as he runs through the trees.

“That is so not the point here!”

As you arrive at the back of your house, Edward jumps with you onto the balcony. You hop off his back, facing him as you back away towards the door. You lean against it as he rest against the railing.

“Tonight was fun. I hope we can hang out like this again soon.” you say, staring down at your boots. Edward rushes forward, tilting your chin up with a finger. He’s got the same dopey smile on his face that’s barely left it all night.

“We will. Your dad is planning on asking mine if he wants to come over for the big game this Friday. But, I’d like to see you again before that.” he says. You wrap your hand around his, laying it on top of your cheek.

“I’d like that.” you purr out. He squeezes your cheek before hopping off the balcony only to return with a daisy. He tucks it behind your ear, winking before running off once more into the night. You hear your phone ping in your pocket. Taking it out you see a notification from Edward.

Edward 🦇: Put my number in your phone before I left. It was a pleasure seeing you again. I hope your dreams are filled with me because my thoughts will be occupied by you.

(Y/n): You’ve made an appearance in them from time to time but mostly it’s just cute animals. And being naked in my old high school...

You change into your pajamas before flopping on the bed, screaming into your pillow. If anything, tonight just made things more complicated. There wasn’t a doubt about how you felt for either of them. You had a romantic interest in both of them. It wasn’t love yet but with the way things were going, you knew it was heading there, regardless of if you asked your heart to stop.

#edward cullen x y/n #edward cullen x reader #jacob black imagine #jacob black x you #jacob black x reader #twilight #twilight imagine #twilight x reader #twilight x y/n

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love-toxin · 11 months ago

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jump - cha hyun-su

a/n: sweet home is giving me serotonin for midterm season u know i had to do it <3

(cws: gn pronouns, minor sweet home s1 spoilers, suicidal reader + suicide attempts, puking, failed OD, trauma bonding, mild lewd mentions, omg they were neighbors, dark meet cute)

wc: 3.2k

August 1 - 2020

1410 - Cha Hyun-su.

Otherwise known as your unofficial, non blood-related, possibly-separated-at-birth-twin. Why? Because for a year and a half, you've been living as the official Green Home recluse. Now a second recluse has moved in right down the hall.

“Maybe we dedicate the fourteenth floor to up-and-coming college dropouts now.” You've heard that spoken under the breath of neighbours in the lobby, heard variations of it giggled between nosy ladies that have gotten too old to call it gossip. If they're resorting to gossip about two residents who have turned hikikomori, they're wasting their breath. Not much goes on in your apartment that anybody would want to gossip about.

As for Hyun-su? You're not sure. Sometimes you hear the tinny sounds of gunfire through his metal door. Other than that, nothing. So he games and eats ramyeon, and that's it? If it is, it's a little surprising. He doesn't look the type at first glance. In fact, he looks like he'd fit in with the popular guys you went to highschool with. The bulk box of instant noodles he ordered lies askew in the hallway, which you suppress the urge to kick as you walk by.

Your stomach rumbles. Wish I had the money to order ramen in bulk. Your life's savings jingles pathetically in your pocket: a few won scattered amongst pocket lint. The flickering of the lights overhead should be enough of a cue that you've fallen far in life. This apartment complex is a shithole, and aside from the odd cigarette or two you can snag from the convenience store there's really not much you get joy out of at this point. Food, sex, music, it's all the same. At least touching yourself is free. Not for much longer if I don't come up with rent next week. You absentmindedly kick a crumpled ball of paper down the hall. Unlucky as ever, your sandal goes flying with it, and tumbles right through the door and down the steps before you hear it hit the landing.

“Son a bitch,” You sigh under your breath, and with a moment of hesitation you hop along on one leg. No way are you gonna touch that filthy floor with your bare foot. Each step you take with help from the railing, and by the wall at the end of the landing lies your abandoned shoe–lying on its side like a piece of trash someone couldn't be bothered to throw away. You hop forward and wiggle your foot back into it, toes first. “Home sweet home.” You sigh sarcastically. Each step downstairs after that feels just as dooming as the last.

August 8 - 2020

I think I might have to die soon.

The blue-white glow of your phone screen is all the light you've seen for days. You missed the rent payment. Your application for an extended due date was denied. You're getting kicked out at the end of the month.

Am I in hell already?

A frustrated huff escapes you. Your phone clatters as it hits the wall, but if it's broken or not, you don't care enough to get up and check. What's the point in writing out your feelings if you aren't gonna survive long enough to reflect on them?

You pull the covers higher over your head. I'm doomed. The world is over. You stick your hand out from beneath the warm covers to reach the dial of your CD player, and turn it. Click. No power. They cut off your electricity already.

You fall asleep to the sounds of silence and your own breathing under the smothering covers.

August…something.

You kneel hunched over your toilet, expunging every ounce of fluid and bile from the hellish depths of your stomach. You've been puking for over an hour but there's still stuff coming out. With a loose, loud grunt you bury your knuckles into your stomach in a swift thud, forcing out one last expulsion of acid and chunks of food you probably ate ten years ago in the process. With a heave of laboured breath you sit back and slump against the cold tile wall of your bathroom.

Bad idea. If you work up the courage to try this again, you're sure as shit never using pills for it after this. You swear you could feel each one as they came back up for vengeance, the burn in your throat harkening to the amount of dry-swallowing and gagging it took to get them in there. You'd rather just jump out the fucking window at this point. Sorry to whoever has to clean up the mess.

A pass over your face only smudges the tears drooling down it. This is seriously pathetic. Your sniffles echo off the grimy tile like the chimes of a bell, they sound far-off but they hurt your ears with the vibration. Everything hurts. Your chapped lips burn and your stomach aches with every clench around empty air.

Can I just die now? Am I allowed to die? Your knees hit your chest and you sob your questions out to nobody. Nobody's here and nobody cares. If you weren't a coward, you would've jumped already. You would've jumped two weeks ago when you knew you didn't have the money. You would've-

Ching ching. The doorbell. Ching ching. Right now? Seriously?

Ching ching. Ching ching. Ching ching.

“I'm coming,” You rub your tears dry with an aggressive touch and get one last sniffle out. A single splash of cold water on your face in the sink is all you have a chance to do. Fucking landlord, probably. Probably looking for one last chance to hassle you about the money. Nobody wants to move here, it's easier to keep a tenant than find a new one–or maybe he wants to kick you out early. If that's the case, it'd be the icing on the cake for this absolutely wretched excuse for a life you've ruined.

Ching ching. Ching ching. Without bothering to check the doorbell monitor on your way by, you head for the door and reach out to brush the handle. It's only by sheer coincidence that you pause, and in a moment of clarity, bow your head to peek through the peephole before you turn the handle.

“What the shit-” The rug trips you up as your steps hustle backward, a yelp escaping you as your back hits the floor and you scramble up to sit and stare back at the door in horror. Whatever that was, it…it wasn't…

You swallow dryly. Your hands feel numb. You flick your gaze from the door to the handle and back again, watching with intent fear as whatever it is that's outside keeps ringing the doorbell until it stops. That's the moment the world itself goes quiet.

“I…hear you…”

Your heart itself ceases its erratic beat in that moment. The grin curling up at the creature's dark lips is palpable in its voice. That head of exposed, honeycomb-like brains that you spied through the peephole comes alive in the squishy, spongy sounds that emanate from the other side of your front door.

Bang.

A bulb-like protrusion explodes out from the metal, leaving behind a deep indent that will forever mark the spot where the monster tried to get in. Bang. Bang. Two more in succession show up in the squealing steel of your door. It's trying to get in. It's not going to stop until it does.

“I hear you!!” It shrieks in tandem with your terrified screams. “I hear you! I hear you!!” The cackling of its cracked voice burns holes through your palms and into your eardrums, your hands not nearly enough to block out the horrendous screeching of metal on metal. In a bid of panic, you scramble to your feet and away from the bending frame of your door. Your toenails scrabble against the carpet and nearly catch on the loose threads as you close the distance to the window. You left it open to let the stuffy air out, but now it's an escape hatch. A way out. Your palms grip cool metal as you raise yourself up to the sill and crouch on it on the soles of your feet, perched like a bird pre-flight as you look out into the mid-morning sky and back to your battered front door.

This is it. This is the last chance you'll ever have to look out into the world you're leaving behind. The sky is clear today, oranges and light pinks streaking across the scattered clouds and dissipating more as the sun creeps into the air. The breeze tastes cool and crisp on your tongue, a stark contrast to the warmth that the glow casts over your trembling body. God, I don't wanna jump after all. I just want to look at this view for just a little longer.

Fresh tears chill themselves against your skin in the breeze, but your last, wishful peace is broken by a sudden clang. Like something brittle thudding against a solid surface. The sound draws your head sideways in an instant. The wind whips your hair away to frame your distraction in perfect view, hanging halfway out of his window two doors down.

He stares at you with brown eyes, once blank, now deep with urgency and fear. Hyun-su has a broken mop in hand that he's since stopped smacking against the wall once he's got your attention. He swallows and you watch his adam's apple bob in his throat.

Sorry, I've got to die right now. Those words that you feel brimming at your lips fall silent as Hyun-su motions to you. But you just stare with glossy eyes and a pained smile, because what can he do? There's a monster breaking down your front door, and the last hinge is barely holding on. You want to mouth the words “I'm sorry”, but he suddenly disappears.

It's only a moment before you hear the banging. Like a door swinging open and shut on its squeaky hinges, the shunk shunk shunk shunk resonates through the whole complex and just about vibrates you off the sill entirely. But you cling on this time because the thuds and squealing at your door are growing softer. Soon, the noises stop altogether as you hear a screech and the heavy pattering of the creature's footsteps leading away. In just as much time as it took to decide to throw yourself off the fourteenth floor, you've been left in peace again.

It takes about a half hour before you're ready to move from your perch, to step down on the freezing floor and brace your shaking legs by leaning against the wall. You keep checking all day to see if Hyun-su reappears. You don't see a thing, save for the sunset that marks the dusk of a day you didn't think you'd ever survive.

August ??? - 2020

If Hyun-su comes back, I'll sleep with him. On my life. Or I'll kill him. I haven't decided, honestly.

Your phone's battery is almost dead, and the screw that holds the hinge is so loose it's practically flopping all over the place. It's gone from a flip phone to a flop phone, realistically. Without the internet or cell service, all it's good for is a brick to hold your thoughts inside. Maybe it'll be all that's left of you once you're gone.

Is Hyun-su dead? That thought has been cycling round your head like it's circling a drain for about a day. The more you think about it, the more sure you are that he must've led the monster away to try and draw it from your door. The brain monster hasn't come back since, but neither has Hyun-su. You've tried everything from calling him to aiming a mirror out your window to get a glimpse into his apartment, but nothing. And if you knock on his door and he's not there, what will you do?

You've laid in bed awake all night, and with your stomach growling painfully you sit with your back against the mangled front door and wait. Your eyes shut at the tenth hour of the morning. Come back, Hyun-su. Please come back. Why'd you save me just to leave me alone again? You better not have died for me. The thoughts give you distraction for a while, as long as a while could feasibly last in these circumstances…

Shu-unk.

What the fucking hell was that?

Shunk. Shunk. Shunk.

You blink awake and stagger up to your feet in a rushed scramble. In the distance, just barely audible, is a soft voice echoing off the walls of the empty corridor.

“1412?” You're tempted to press your ear to the door to hear it closer, but the myriad of dents and fist-sized creases left protruding from it don't exactly leave a lot of space for you to listen. “1412?” The sound that had startled you awake, you now realize, is the sound of doors quietly being opened and closed. You're tempted to disbelieve, but the low coolness of that voice desperately makes you want to believe it's Hyun-su. And as terrified as you are of guessing wrong and paying your life's price for it, your fingers shakily clasp the door handle and it turns with a click. The squeals of metal make way for harsh scraping as the ill-fitting door fights the pressure of your body weight as you put everything you have into forcing it open.

It passes the threshold and swings open. You stagger into the corridor and catch yourself on the door frame, your fingers scraping dented steel from the pounding it took at the hands of that monster.

It is. It's him. That soft jawline and those big, brown eyes, the mane of fluffy hair and his unkempt clothes splattered with blood. He stands there lean and awkward in the hallway, lanky and ruffled and looking like he's been through a good bit of hell. His mop handle's got an upgrade but you don't care, really. You just feel a well of happiness surge up inside you that you figured had completely disappeared by now.

Hyun-su hurries up to you. When he gets close, he falters, however. His expression dims as he suddenly seems unsure of himself, and fidgets with the newly-crafted spear that suddenly seems too heavy in his hands.

“Are you okay?” He pants. “The monster-”

“You led it away.”

“Yeah.” He nods. “But you're okay, right?”

“Mh.” Your ears burn a little. This is my saviour, huh? So soft-spoken and meek? “Didn't get me at all. Thank you.”

He nods back, his scruffy locks forming a curtail around his neck as he does so. An awkward silence blankets the empty space. It's broken, however, by a deep gurgling in the pit of your stomach.

“Are you hungry?”

You lay a hand over your stomach as if your touch is going to make it stop rumbling. It's pretty humbling, to say the least–you hadn't realized how weak you'd become on two days without food. Hyun-su doesn't wait for an answer; he reaches into his pocket and pulls out something crinkly and wrapped in foil. It's still warm when he places it in your palm, yet his fingertips carry a chill as they graze your skin in the process.

“You should eat. We need to get going.”

“Where?” Hyun-su points down the corridor, and despite his urging you slip the candy bar into your pocket while you peek out where he's indicating. The door is busted-up and boasts a reinforced exterior from the many bumps and scrapes of a wheelchair coming in and out. You know it well. “1408? Where Mr. Han lives?”

He nods. “There's kids there, and some other people. I, um…I was going to come earlier, but they-”

“I get it.” For the first time in a long time, you crack a smile. “Had to go play hero again, huh?” If he was willing to drive away a monster from a stranger's door by using himself as bait, you can only imagine what he must have gone through to save some poor kids in peril.

“N-No, I-”

“You're a good guy.” You pat him on the chest. “I don't know why a good guy like you came to live in a place like Green Home, but I'm glad you're here.” Hyun-su looks down on you with a raised brow, but his surprise melts slowly into gratitude as he adjusts to your playful jabs. There's not many other ways for you to cope in an absolutely bizarre situation as this.

“...I'm glad, too.”

“Yeah?”

Hyun-su tilts his head down. He's a little hesitant on meeting your eyes, even though you owe him so much. “I'm…glad you didn't jump.”

“Me too.” The sentiment slips out of you so easily. When did that happen? Wanting to live? “I'd be a pretty shitty damsel if I threw away my life after you saved it.”

In the wake of another, now less-awkward silence, you stroll ahead of him towards Mr. Han's apartment. You only glance over your shoulder to make sure he's following, and to quietly reassure yourself that he hasn't disappeared again. When you do, that's when he hustles along to catch up, the smallest of smiles peaking his lips.

“If..”

You turn to look at him beside you. You can't help but pay him your full attention when he speaks–he does it so little, and he's so quiet, you fear you might miss what he says.

“If you feel like you want to jump again..” He extends his hand out to you. Despite the callouses on his long, lithe fingers, his palm looks soft and even…inviting, in some strangely enticing way. “..You can hold my hand. I'll keep you from falling.”

“Oh.” Your feet halt in their tracks. The air feels a bit heavier than it did before–but only in the space that separates you from Hyun-su. His hand lingers there, and beneath the cuff of his sweater's sleeve you spot for the first time those scars. Cuts, slashes, deep and intentional down the length of his tanned skin. Intersecting lines that point towards a past of hurt and harm.

So you and I are the same. Have you now, finally, come to that thought that Hyun-su had when he saw you ready to jump out your window?

“...Yeah.”

You place your palm delicately over his. Your fingers slide together like ivy on a window. They clasp into each other, squeezing like the grip of a latch on a closed door. And you feel at peace for real this time, because from this moment on you won't ever get near a ledge again–not to take a step off, at least. But maybe to see another sunset if you manage to survive that long. A smile perks at your mouth at the thought. God, I hope so.

“Let's hang in there together. Promise.” You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes yours back. The two of you make your way towards the apartment. And when this door opens, it'll close behind you for good.

#sweet home #cha hyun su #cha hyun su x reader #hyun su x reader #gn reader #ellie writes #3k

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heroes-in-the-dark · 2 months ago

Note

Hi!!!! It's me again with a new fan art, one of several sketches I have pending haha!

In episode 119.5 when toga mentions that Tokoyami gives him his blood, I couldn't help but remember the scene where Ochako tells him that he would give her his blood, in episode 19 of season 7

That children's scene is very symbolic, and I decided to do the version that no one asked me for, but our little fandom needed

Your work has been too special for me, my heart received it with affection and it has a great place in my mind every day, at least I dedicate 6 hours of thought to it a day HAHA! It sounds crazy but it's my Roman empire, and my life changed for the better since I've been following this fanfic

So I basically say this to say, THANK YOU.

And I was wondering for a while , would you give me your permission to make content, like videos about this fanfic? Clearly all the credits of creation would be yours, I only enjoy creating things that I like, that's why I ask permission. Why I respect your rights as an author 🕴️💖

Anyway, I love you, I hope you like my fan art, many more will come jsjsjs😊

I ABSOLUTELY ADORE THIS ONE!!!! 💕😭💕

Your art is so good, and this scene is actually SO important because we're not quite there yet, but I'm really anticipating when Tokoyami and Toga see each other next! Their little faces are so precious I just wanna cherish them both 🥺

Art of these two is so rare outside of this little corner I've written, but this actually means so so much. It's just so perfect, for reasons I can't yet fully explain, and I'm absolutely giddy that you drew this 🥰 so thank you!!!

And you're so sweet! 💕 Honestly, it's been the support and continued enthusiasm from my readers that gave me the motivation to make it this far, so I really couldn't have done it without you! I love how much I was able to explore throughout the story, while giving attention to characters who didn't get nearly enough in canon. And I'm so happy that I can share these thoughts and ideas with others! Especially with how long it's been going on for, this hasn't exactly been a short journey, and you and quite a few others have been keeping up with it year after year. And that's amazing! Thank you so much for being a fan of my work!!!

You can absolutely make fan content! I trust you to credit me and all that, so go right on ahead. And by all means, feel free to share! I'd love to see anything you end up making 😊

#ask response #bnha #boku no hero academia #fumikage tokoyami #bnha fanart #toga himiko #mha #my hero academia #tokoyami fumikage #theyre just so cute #and thank you again so so much!!!

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teyums · 2 years ago

Text

“I only want you.” | Neteyam Oneshot

wc: 2.3k

pairing: neteyam x fem! na’vi reader

warnings: none, contains fluff

a/n: this is a one shot, meaning there will be no part 2

Summary: You had a painfully long day of helping the elders with their tasks, and all that’s getting you through is remembering you’ll meet Neteyam at your spot later. However, when you get there you find him with another girl and feel a piece of your heart break. He finds you, and reassures you that you’re the only one for him, sealing his promise with the proposal you’ve been waiting for.

Today had been an excruciatingly long day. You spent majority of the sunlight helping with tasks bestowed upon you by the elders.

First, it was picking what seemed like a harvest’s worth of utumauti (canopy fruit) that would be used in a celebration for the war party’s successful raids. You agreed begrudgingly and trekked through the mossy forest, holding three baskets that were stacked into each other.

After spending hours hopping from branch to branch, at times to the highest point of the tree, you had finally gathered a sufficient amount to return to the village. You even surprised yourself with how many you had collected from the canopies, seeing as utumauti isn’t in season this time of year—hence why no one wanted to do the job in the first place and passed it onto you.

You wobbly trudged back into town, balancing one basket atop your head and holding the other two in your hands, they were painfully heavy. Once arriving at the elder’s quarters, you attempted to set them down as gently as possible, letting out a sigh of relief once realizing you could now take it easy.

But alas, you were foolish to think one task wouldn’t lead to another like always. It seemed like today was the day for every na’vi in an authoritative position to drop their responsibilities onto you.

Without even five minutes to take a breather, you were then tasked with repairing the splayed and broken strings upon the bows of the latest warriors who had returned. You stared down at the piles of splinted, battered wood that lay out in front of you, strings tangled into a jumbled mess. You tried your hardest to contain your agitated expression and keep the twitch of your eye at bay to avoid a scolding.

God, this was gonna hurt.

It took you over an hour just to detangle the strings, receiving specific instructions that forbade you from simply cutting them loose and replacing them all anew. Something about ‘respecting the great mother enough to not waste resources’. You spent another hour weaving new string into the bows that needed them. Looping the strings into the bow nocks over and over again proved to be an even more tedious effort than picking fruit.

By the time you finished, your fingers were terribly sore. Your cuticles were reddened and bruised, a few snags and hangnails forming in the delicate skin around them from dealing with rough wood.

You stacked the bows in a neater pile than you had found them, standing up and brushing the sawdust off your legs and loincloth. Finally, after hours of what seemed like endless work, you could now focus on what your day was really supposed to be about.

Him.

There had finally been a commonality in your schedules, so you and Neteyam had dedicated the entirety of today to spend with each other. Neteyam’s training had only picked up in frequency the last couple weeks, leaving less time for the two of you to spend together. This proved to be extremely hard on you guys, but especially you. You had been cursed with the love language of quality time and right now you were terribly missing the nights where the two of you would lay in each other’s arms, stargazing without a care of what tomorrow would bring.

You shooed the thought away, a small smile rendering on your lips as you reminded yourself that the hard work was done, and now the two of you could be together. Though you were bummed that your time would now be cut short, you relished in the fact that you would still be able to spend the evening with him, just like old times.

You skipped along the battered path that housed the ghosts of footsteps from your clan, trying to contain your squeals of excitement as you neared the spot Neteyam said he would be waiting at for you.

A small pond with bountiful vegetation surrounding the perimeter slowly came into view, as well as a head of long, black braids and a pair of strong shoulders that belonged to your lover.

You felt your shoulders relax for the first time today and started towards him. You used your hand to move a large anthurium leaf out of the way, your feet stopping dead in your tracks when you caught sight of someone next to him.

A girl.

Your mouth fell slightly agape at the scene in front of you, your brain rushing to make sense of things. She stood with her back to Neteyam, a bow in her hands and her arms stretched clumsily, feigning inexperience. You watched as he used his hand to tip her elbow upwards, helping her correct her form.

Okay, calm down. He’s just helping her. Right?

Neteyam was always known for being friendly, it being both his most admirable characteristic and biggest flaw. Because of his kindhearted, always eager to help like nature, it was hard for him to realize when someone had an ulterior motive to get close to him.

“Here,” he stepped closely behind her, both their gazes set down at the pond in front of them. “Straighten your back. You need a strong form.” His hand pushed against her mid-lower back to fix her posture, resulting in her arching it and repositioning her arms to shoot the bow the correct way. It was now excruciatingly obvious that she knew how to do this from the beginning. You felt your stomach flip.

There stood Neteyam, with his hands on another girl.

Your Neteyam.

“Like this?” She questioned innocently, in which Neteyam hummed as a response. He probably would’ve noticed how close the two of them were to each other, skin nearly touching; if he hadn’t been so focused on the fish darting around in the water below them

Maybe you were hallucinating, but you vaguely recall your heart plunging out of your chest and flopping around pitifully on the forest floor beneath you. You felt the painfully familiar feeling of your throat constricting, the burn of approaching tears following suit. Your face twisted like you had smelled something rotten and you turned away, not wanting to watch any more of this.

You had already figured he would have been a little bummed when you had to move the time of your date, but had he really been so upset that he couldn’t even wait for you? How long had this been going on before you found them and why the hell was he so close to her?

You backed away silently, wiping the tears you hadn’t noticed had fallen with the back of your hand and storming back to your hut.

Neteyam hadn’t been aware of your arrival, instead, his attention was set on the girl he now noticed had been faking.

“Ah,” He removed his hand as if her body burned and stepped back, putting a disrespectful amount of space between them. “It seems you do not need my help, after all.” He says, the unamused expression on his face matching the tone of his voice.

She smiled shyly and lowered her bow, tucking a braid behind her ear. “Fine, you caught me. I actually just wanted to spend time with you.”

“So we are done here, then. If you’ll excuse me, I’m expecting someone important.” He took a seat on the rock where he had previously been resting before the girl came up to ask him for help, resuming the sharpening of an unfinished project he had brought to keep busy.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Her head tilted curiously, not quite understanding his behavior. “I said I wanted to spend time with you, Neteyam.”

“I am not a fan of liars. Whatever it is you want, I cannot help you with.” He nearly interrupted her while continuing to shave the now forming spearhead. “You may go now.”

She scoffed, more out of embarrassment than annoyance. She stood there for a second more, his eyes snapping up to shoot her a pointing stare that had her turning on her heels and hastily exiting.

He sighed to himself and shook his head, silently cursing himself for even agreeing to assist her. He knew it was hard on you, having to listen to the girls of the clan rant and rave about who was soon to be your mate. He tried his best to avoid them, but there were times like this where they would take his kindness for granted, only to run back to their friends and exaggerate what really happened. He felt terrible now that he knew her main goal was only to have his hands on her for bragging rights.

He tore his attention away from his task, peering up at the sky and using a hand to shield his eyes from the blazing sun. It was almost eclipse, you had told him that you would be done by now. If anything, you should have already met up with him. He gathered his things, wondering if you had made a stop home first and decided he would meet you there instead.

___________

You laid in your hammock silently, back facing the entrance as you picked at a stray hemp string to distract yourself from the immense wave of sadness that refused to stop crashing over you. The wooden steps outside your hut groaned from supporting the weight of footsteps, and an involuntary sigh left your lips when your nostrils filled with the scent of mahogany and petrichor. Neteyam.

“My love?”

The tall na’vi stepped through the flaps of your tent, and you tucked your body into itself further, successfully giving off the impression that you weren’t interested in speaking. You figured if you closed your eyes you could play it off as stirring in your sleep.

It didn’t work.

He immediately became worried when catching site of you, wondering if you had fallen sick and that being the reason you hadn’t come to him. He was across the room and by your side in an instant, taking a seat next to you to see your eyes shut.

Neteyam was observant, more than others at that. He knew how your breathing slowed a few paces when you were truly asleep, how your lips would stay parted just the tiniest bit, or even how your nostrils would flare here and there depending on how deeply you inhaled. Something was wrong.

“My love, what is the matter?” It took everything in you not to lean into his touch when you felt his gentle fingers brush the hair from your face, his digits grazing over your skin before cupping your cheek.

“I do not want to talk about it, Neteyam.” Your eyes stayed closed, an effort to remain withdrawn from the conversation.

The use of his full name instantly ruled out any other option he had been thinking of. You were upset with him.

“No, you know we don’t do that. Come on,” his large hands delicately took hold of your small frame, bringing you into a sitting position. “Open.”

Your eyelids reluctantly peeled apart, amber eyes streaked with red veins and eyelashes dewy from prior tears. His eyebrows furrowed with worry at your puffy appearance, gaze softening once he saw why. You had been crying.

“Princess,” his voice was pained, hands coming up to cup your tear stained cheeks and caress them with his thumbs. “What happened? Why are you crying?”

Your lip quivered and you felt that painfully annoying sensation creeping back in. You opened your mouth to speak but the tightening of your throat stopped you before you could respond.

He continued. “I waited for you, but you did not come. Why?”

“I saw you,” You sniffed, dropping your gaze down at the netting below you instead of his eyes. “With her.”

He appeared confused at first, his mind jumping through hoops to try and figure out what you meant. Then, his head fell to the side a bit and a deep sigh of realization joined afterwards.

“[Y/n], that was nothing. I promise. I was waiting for you, then she found me and asked me to show her how to catch a fish.” He explained, his hands now on your shoulders.

“You think she doesn’t know how to catch a damn fish? She just wanted your attention.” You spat, hating the way your voice was cutting in and out.

“I know, I know. I wasn’t thinking straight, I was so excited to see you that I just helped her so she would leave. But as soon as I saw her true intentions I sent her away. It was nothing more than that, princess, I swear.” He took notice of you turning your head away from him and felt a pang in his chest. He hated seeing you like this, and it hurt even more knowing it was because of him.

“Do you believe me?” His voice was quiet and you finally peered up at him to see he looked just as hurt as you did. You nodded your head slightly, his tensed shoulders relaxing a bit the moment you did.

“Of course I believe you. But it still hurts.” A single tear fell onto your cheek and he was quick to clear it without a word, giving you time to express your feelings to him. “I cannot stand to hear the way they talk about you.”

He noticed your fingers starting to twiddle anxiously, taking both of your hands into his and holding them firmly. “But you know I am yours, only. I only want you. Those girls will never change that.”

“You don’t understand.” You shook your head and went to pull your hands away from him, but he tightened his hold. He was already one step ahead and knew how you preferred to run from conversations like this rather than have them.

“Please, help me understand.” His voice soft, warm yellow eyes pleading and seeing into the part of your soul no one else could.

“They laugh at me, when I tell them you are spoken for. They do not believe me,” You inhaled shakily, biting at the inside of your lip before continuing. “because we are not mated yet.” Your voice merely a whisper, like you were embarrassed to admit what had been ailing you.

“Oh, [Y/n]…” He pulled you into his chest and embraced you in his arms, placing a light kiss to the top of your head. He was so careful with you, it was as if he felt you would crumble to pieces.

You melted into his arms, you couldn’t help it even if you tried. He really was your safe place, and even if he had been the one to upset you, he made it known that you could always come to him no matter what. You felt him lean back and lightly pull you away.

“I had no idea you have been feeling this way. There is nothing I want more than to be with you for life, my love. I just didn’t want to rush you into it, in case you weren’t ready.” He smiled, his excitement written all over his face.

“Really?” Your eyes grew big, pupils leaking adoration and swelling in sync with your heart.

“Really.” He hummed.

The space between the two of you grew smaller as he fell in, your lashes kissing before your lips could. By the time your eyes fluttered to a close his lips were melded against yours, and with every second that passed you felt your doubts withering away— the passion from his embrace and his hands on your waist served as ample reassurance.

You broke for air, eyes dazed, bodies longing for more. “I’m sorry if I ruined our date, Nete…”

“Nonsense, you could never ruin anything.” He chuckled, pecking the tip of your nose. “Forget about that, just come with me.”

Before you could agree you were off the hammock and up on your feet, fingers laced as he led you out of your home.

“Where are we going?” You smiled.

“To tell my parents to begin preparations for our ceremony. I don’t want to spend another moment not mated with you.” He glanced down at you and gave your hand a squeeze, an elated grin overtaking his face to match yours.

Likes + Reblogs are much appreciated, thank you for reading! 💗

#neteyam #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam fluff #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam avatar #avatar way of water #avatar 2 #neteyam fic #neteyam sully #avatar fanfiction #neteyam x you #avatar twow

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lifeofpriya · 4 months ago

Text

So Long, London - Jack Draper

[gif credit goes to @pyotrkochetkov]

a/n: this fic was heavily inspired by @pyotrkochetkov's post a few days ago about a jack angst fic idea she wanted someone to write 🤭 this is probably the longest fic i've ever written, so sit down, grab a drink and some snacks, and buckle down for the ride, y'all!

summary: what once was a vibrant relationship begins to fade, leaving both of you to drift apart and question your future together...

You woke up to the soft patter of rain outside the window, the sound barely audible over the steady hum of the city below. Stretching, you felt the stiffness in your body from the long hours spent at the office, the tension that had become a second skin to you. Your apartment in the heart of London was a sanctuary from the outside world, a place where you could shed the mask of the day and just be.

Jack's side of the bed was empty, the sheets cold to the touch. You knew his schedule by heart now: early morning training sessions, a quick breakfast, and then off to the courts. You had met him at a charity event a few months ago, and it had been love at first serve. His hazel eyes had pierced through the bustle of the crowd, his smile a warm embrace even in the chilly London air. He was everything you had ever wanted: successful, charming, and attentive.

But lately, something had changed. The texts grew shorter, and the phone calls less frequent. His dedication to tennis seemed to have swallowed him whole, leaving you with the crumbs of his attention. You tried not to let it show and pretended everything was fine, but the cracks in your relationship had started to widen like a fissure in a frozen lake. The apartment that once echoed with laughter and shared dreams now felt more like a museum of memories, each room a silent exhibit of what used to be.

As his career was reaching new heights, your world was slowly shrinking. The thrill of watching him play had become a distant memory, replaced by the cold reality of his absence. His victories no longer filled you with joy, but instead, a sinking feeling of loneliness. You had become an afterthought in his life, a box to check off his to-do list. You missed the way his eyes used to light up when you talked about your day, the gentle way his hand would brush against yours, the way his laughter could fill a room.

The effort you put into maintaining the façade of happiness grew tiresome, like a dance you had learned by heart but no longer enjoyed performing. You'd stay up late into the night, scrolling through social media, watching as his life played out in highlight reels and sponsored posts. The more successful he became, the more invisible you felt. You tried talking to him, but he'd always dismiss it as work stress, promising things would get better once the season was over. Yet, the seasons changed, and so did nothing else.

One evening, you decided to surprise him at his match. The stadium was packed, the air thick with anticipation as he took to the court. You watched him from the stands, his muscles flexing with each powerful serve, his eyes focused solely on the prize. He didn't see you there, not even when you cheered louder than anyone else. After his victory, you waited for him by the exit, clutching the bouquet of flowers you had bought. He walked by, surrounded by an entourage of fans and colleagues, and for a moment, his eyes met yours. But they didn't linger. They slid away as if you were just another face in the crowd.

The ache in your chest grew sharper with each passing day. You found yourself questioning every little thing: every unanswered text, every late-night training session, every time he chose the courts over you. The silence between you had become deafening, a void that swallowed up the love that once thrived. You knew you couldn't go on like this, living in the shadow of his career, but you were afraid to let go. The thought of ending it all was like contemplating the destruction of your own heart.

The rain had stopped, but the gray sky remained a gloomy backdrop to your mood. You decided to take a walk, hoping the fresh air would clear your thoughts. The cobblestone streets were slick under your shoes, and the scent of wet earth and the distant waft of a bakery mingled in the damp air. Each step took you further from the apartment, away from the reminders of the life you had built together, and closer to the realization that it was all falling apart.

As you strolled through the quiet, tree-lined streets, you passed by a small café. Through the steamy window, you saw a couple holding hands over a cup of coffee, their smiles a stark contrast to the sadness you felt. You thought about the times you and Jack had sat in places like this, sipping hot drinks and sharing your hopes and fears. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Your eyes stung with unshed tears, and you quickened your pace, not wanting to be caught in a moment of weakness.

You found yourself in the park, the same one where you had shared your first kiss. The leaves were turning gold, a poignant reminder of the autumn of your relationship. You sat on a bench, watching as children played nearby, their laughter a bittersweet symphony that taunted the silence in your soul.

You had enough. You knew you deserved better, more than the fleeting moments of affection and the empty promises of quality time. So, you gathered your courage and decided to confront Jack. You waited for him to come home, your heart racing with every tick of the clock. When he finally walked through the door, sweat-soaked and exhausted, you couldn't hide the sadness in your eyes anymore.

"Jack, we need to talk," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

He looked up from his gym bag, surprise etched on his weary face. "What's up?"

You took a deep breath, the words you had rehearsed so many times now poised on the edge of your tongue. "This isn't working anymore, is it?"

Jack paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob as he processed your words. The weight of the unspoken hung heavily in the air, a silent testament to the distance that had grown between you. He sighed, a heavy sound that seemed to carry the weight of the world, and dropped his bag to the floor. "What do you mean?"

You could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the lines around his mouth that had deepened since you last had a real conversation. But there was something else, too. A flicker of guilt that confirmed what you already knew. "I mean," you began, your voice wavering slightly, "that we're drifting apart. That your tennis is consuming everything, and I'm just… I'm just here, waiting for you to come up for air."

Jack leaned against the door, his posture deflating as he took in your words. He rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he had when he was stressed or confused. "I know I've been busy," he started, his voice low and sincere, "but I thought we were okay."

You felt a knot in your throat, the years of pent-up frustration and love tangled together in a mess that was difficult to unravel. "Okay isn't enough," you said firmly. "I need more than okay."

Jack's eyes searched yours, looking for a hint of the spark that had brought you two together. He took a step closer, his hands reaching out tentatively, as if to bridge the gap that had grown between you. "What do you want from me?"

You hesitated, the question echoing in your mind. What did you want? You wanted the love you had felt in those early days, the excitement of discovery, and the comfort of shared experiences. But that seemed like a distant dream now. "I want you," you said finally, the words coming out more as a plea than a demand. "I want the person I fell in love with."

Jack's expression softened, and for a moment, you thought he might understand. But then his eyes clouded over again, and he took a step back. "You know I can't just quit tennis," he said, his voice a mix of frustration and resentment. "This is my life. This is what I've worked for."

You felt the sting of his words, but you didn't flinch. "I'm not asking you to quit," you replied calmly. I'm just asking for balance—for us to be a priority again."

Jack looked at you, his eyes searching yours for understanding. He ran a hand through his damp hair, leaving it in disarray. "You know how much this means to me," he said, his voice strained. "But I'll try."

You nodded, hope flickering in your chest. Maybe there was a chance, a glimmer of the love you had lost. But the doubt remained, a persistent whisper in the back of your mind. The next few days were filled with tentative gestures and half-hearted attempts at connection. He'd stay up later to watch a movie with you, or surprise you with breakfast in bed, but the underlying tension remained. You could feel it, a tightrope you both danced upon, afraid to misstep and send everything plummeting into the abyss.

One evening, Jack came home earlier than expected. He had lost a match, his first in months. The defeat etched on his face was raw, unfiltered. You wanted to comfort him, to tell him it was okay, that you were there for him no matter what. But when he saw you, his eyes darkened, the weight of his failure crushing the fragile peace you had constructed.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped, his voice laced with frustration. "I need to be alone."

You felt the rejection like a punch to the gut, but you remained steadfast. "Jack, it's okay to lose," you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "It doesn't change who you are."

He shrugged you off, his eyes burning with anger and disappointment. "You don't get it," he said, his voice tight. "This isn't just a game to me. It's everything."

You took a step back, the coldness of his words sending a shiver down your spine. You had never seen this side of him before, the side that was consumed by the sport, the side that didn't have room for you. "I do get it," you said, trying to keep the hurt from your voice. "But you can't let it be everything. You can't let it eat away at us."

Jack didn't respond, instead, he turned away and headed to the shower, the door slamming shut behind him. You stood there, unsure of what to do next. The apartment felt smaller, the air thick with the unspoken. You knew you had to give him space, but the walls seemed to be closing in on you, suffocating you with the weight of his pain and your own fear.

You wandered into the living room, the silence deafening. You picked up a book from the coffee table, trying to find solace in the pages, but the words blurred together, indistinct and unimportant. Your thoughts kept drifting back to the conversation, to the coldness in his eyes when he pushed you away.

The sound of the shower finally stopped, and you could hear Jack moving around in the bedroom. You set the book down and took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come.

When he emerged, his face was scrubbed clean, but the sadness in his eyes remained. He saw you sitting there, and for a moment, the anger was gone, replaced by a look of regret. He sat down next to you, his elbows on his knees, and leaned his head in his hands. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice cracking. "I didn't mean to push you away."

You put the book aside and turned to face him. "Jack, we can't go on like this," you said gently, taking his hand in yours. "I can't keep pretending everything's fine when it's not."

He looked up at you, the regret in his eyes deepening. "I know," he murmured. "I've been so focused on tennis that I've neglected us. I've taken you for granted."

You shook your head, "I can't live my life fueled with empty promises anymore." The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the chasm that had formed between you.

Jack's gaze dropped to the floor, his grip on your hand tightening. "I know I haven't been the best partner," he admitted, his voice a hoarse whisper. "But I want to change. I want to make it work."

You studied his face, searching for the truth in his words. You knew he meant it, but the doubt remained, a stubborn shadow that had taken root in your heart. "I've given you so many chances," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I'm done fighting for a relationship that feels one-sided."

Jack took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with a newfound vulnerability. "I know," he said, his voice thick with regret. "And I've let you down. But if you give me one more chance, I'll prove to you that I can change. That we can find that balance."

You felt your heart ache, torn between the love you still had for him and the pain of his neglect. "Jack," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

He looked at you, the reality of your words sinking in. He leaned over and took your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall. "Please," he begged, "just one more chance. I'll do whatever it takes to make it right."

You stared into his eyes, the green of the leaves outside the window casting a mottled light over his features. The love you had for him was still there, a dull throb that wouldn't go away, no matter how much you wished it would. You wanted to believe him, you really did. But the doubt was a heavy burden that you had been carrying for too long.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, pulling away from his grasp. "But I can't keep doing this." Your voice was shaky, but your resolve was unwavering.

Jack's eyes searched yours, desperation pooling in their depths. "What do you mean?"

You took a deep breath, the words sticking in your throat like a mouthful of dry toast. "I mean, I can't keep holding onto something that isn't working," you said, your voice firm despite the tears threatening to spill over. "I've given you all of me, and I need more than just the leftovers of your time and attention."

Jack's expression fell, the realization of his actions settling on him like a heavy fog. He opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. Instead, he dropped his hands to his sides, his shoulders slumping in defeat. The silence that followed was a physical presence in the room, a thick and heavy blanket that suffocated any semblance of comfort.

You stood up, the tremble in your legs betraying your inner turmoil. "I need some time to think," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You turned and walked to the bedroom, each step feeling like you were walking away from a piece of yourself. You shut the door gently, leaving him sitting on the couch, alone with his thoughts.

In the bedroom, you leaned against the closed door, your chest heaving with the effort to hold back sobs. You took a moment to compose yourself, to breathe in the air that was now thick with the scent of their cologne, a smell that was once comforting but now a stark reminder of the empty promises and unfulfilled dreams. You looked around the room, at the photos of happy moments together, the trophies that gleamed in the soft light, and the empty space on the nightstand where your picture used to be.

You grabbed your phone and dialed your best friend's number, the one person who knew every detail of your relationship, every high and low. You needed her calm voice, her unwavering support. She picked up on the first ring, and without saying a word, you could feel the empathy radiating through the line. She knew something was wrong.

"He's not changing, is he?" she asked gently.

You took a deep breath, the truth of her words a heavy stone in your chest. "I don't know," you managed to choke out. "I want to believe he will, but I can't ignore the feeling that it's just going to be more of the same."

Your friend's voice was a soothing balm, offering comfort without judgment. "You've done everything you can," she said. "It's time to think about what you need."

You nodded, even though she couldn't see you. You knew she was right. You needed more than just a promise of change. You needed action, a commitment to the relationship that matched the one you had been giving all along. You sat down on the bed, the mattress squeaking under your weight, and took a deep breath. The rain had started again, the droplets tapping a solemn rhythm on the window.

Jack's side of the closet was a testament to his life on the road, a chaotic mess of suitcases and rumpled clothes. You stared at his tennis shoes, the ones he had worn when you had watched him win his first major tournament. They were pristine white, now scuffed and worn from his relentless pursuit of greatness. You felt a pang of sadness, wondering if his dedication to the sport had cost him more than just your happiness.

With a heavy heart, you began to pack a bag of your own. You didn't know where you'd go, but you knew you couldn't stay here anymore. Each item you placed in the bag was a symbol of your own strength, a declaration of independence from the shadow of his success. The sound of your zipper closing was the final act in a play that had gone on for too long.

You walked out to the living room, your bag slung over your shoulder, and found Jack still sitting on the couch. He looked up at you, his eyes red and puffy, the weight of his own regret etched into his features. "I'm sorry," he murmured again, but the words felt hollow in the face of your resolve. "I guess this is it," he said, standing up.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. The words you wanted to say, the anger and hurt you had bottled up for so long, threatened to spill out in a flood of accusations and recriminations. But you knew that wouldn't change anything. You had made your decision, and it was time to move on. "I need to go," you said, your voice calm despite the storm raging within.

Jack stepped aside, allowing you to pass. As you moved through the apartment, each room whispered memories that now felt like ghosts. You paused in the kitchen, the sight of the mug tree bringing a lump to your throat. So many mornings you had made him tea, hoping the simple act would be enough to keep him grounded, to remind him of what he had waiting for him at home. It was a futile hope, one that had been shattered by the relentless pull of the courts.

You took one last look around, the walls now echoing with the silence of your unanswered calls and the emptiness of his promises. The door clicked shut behind you, a finality that resonated through your bones. The cool air outside was a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere you had left behind.

You wandered the streets, the rain now a gentle patter that matched the rhythm of your thoughts. Each step took you further from the apartment, from the life you had built with him, and closer to the unknown. The city lights reflected off the wet pavement, casting a shimmering glow that seemed to mock the darkness of your heart.

You called a taxi, the neon lights of the car blinking through the mist like a beacon of escape. The driver looked at you in the rearview mirror, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. You gave him the address of a hotel you had found online, one that offered a quiet refuge from the tumultuous storm of your emotions.

As the city passed by in a blur of lights and rain-slicked streets, you stared out the window, the cold glass pressing against your forehead. Your thoughts swirled like the wind outside, a chaotic mix of doubt, anger, and sorrow. You wondered if you were making a mistake, if you were giving up too quickly. But the weight of the decision settled in your stomach like a lead ball, a sure sign that you were doing what needed to be done.

When the taxi pulled up to the hotel, the doorman rushed to open the door, offering you a sympathetic smile as you stepped out into the damp night. The lobby was a welcome respite from the storm, warm and quiet, with a faint scent of vanilla and fresh flowers. The receptionist offered her condolences for the weather as she checked you in, her eyes flicking to the bag slung over your shoulder, but she said nothing about the tears that had streaked your cheeks.

You took the elevator to the top floor, the ride up feeling like an ascension to a new chapter of your life. The room was small but cozy, with a plush bed that beckoned you to rest and a view of the city that reminded you of the vast expanse of possibilities ahead. You set your bag down, and for a moment, you just stood there, listening to the rain tap against the window, feeling the weight of the silence that was now yours alone.

You called your friend back, her voice a lifeline in the sea of your doubt. She talked you through the pain, her words of encouragement and understanding a salve to your bruised heart. She reminded you of who you were before Jack, of the dreams you had put on hold, of the life that was still waiting for you outside the shadow of his ambition.

You took a long, hot shower, letting the water wash away the tension and the tears. You felt the warmth seep into your skin, rekindling a spark of life that had been all but snuffed out. When you emerged, you wrapped yourself in a soft towel and looked in the mirror. The person staring back at you was tired but determined.

You pulled on a pair of comfortable pajamas and climbed into the bed, feeling the cool sheets against your flushed skin. You lay there for a while, listening to the rain outside, feeling the sadness wash over you in waves. But as the night grew darker, something shifted. The weight of your decision began to feel lighter, replaced by a quiet sense of relief. You had stood up for yourself, and that was something to be proud of.

As you drifted off to sleep, your mind played back moments of your relationship—the laughter, the tears, the passion. You felt the ache of loss, but also the flicker of hope. Maybe this was the end, or perhaps it was just the end of a chapter. Either way, you knew you had made the right choice.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of the city waking up. The rain had stopped, and the sun peeked through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You felt a strange mix of emotions—sadness, relief, fear, and a hint of excitement for the unknown. You knew you couldn't stay in this hotel forever, but for now, it was your sanctuary, a place to heal and decide your next steps.

You ordered room service, and the comforting taste of tea and toast was a gentle reminder of the life you once knew. You spent the day in a daze, watching movies and scrolling through social media, trying to distract yourself from the reality of your situation. But every notification, every article about Jack's latest match, brought the pain back in full force.

In the quiet solitude of the hotel room, you allowed yourself to grieve the relationship you had lost. The highs and the lows, the love and the neglect, all culminating in this moment of solitude. You cried until there were no more tears left, until your eyes were puffy and your throat raw.

As the days passed, you began to feel the tentative beginnings of strength. Each time you checked your phone and saw a message from Jack, you resisted the urge to respond immediately. Instead, you took a deep breath and waited, letting the words sit unanswered, giving yourself the space to think and feel.

You started to explore the city again, the same streets that had once been the backdrop to your shared life now a canvas for new adventures. You visited museums and parks, wandered through markets and cafes, rediscovering the joy of doing things on your own terms. The world didn't revolve around his schedule anymore, and the freedom was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Meanwhile, Jack's life continued on the tennis tour, but the sting of your departure remained. He found it difficult to focus, his mind often drifting to the emptiness of the apartment and the echo of your voice. His performances on the court suffered, and the whispers of doubt grew louder in his ears. He knew he had lost more than just a partner in you; he had lost a piece of himself.

"Game, set, match, Alcaraz," the announcer's voice boomed through the stadium, and Jack's shoulders dropped in defeat. His eyes searched the stands, but there was no sign of you. It had been weeks since you had last spoken, and the void in his life was a constant reminder of his failure.

The applause from the crowd seemed muted as he made his way to the locker room, the weight of his loss heavy on his shoulders. His coach tried to offer words of encouragement, but Jack knew that nothing could fill the emptiness that your absence had left. He had pushed you away with his obsession, and now he faced the stark reality of a life without your warmth and support.

In the quiet of his hotel room, Jack stared at his phone, the screen lighting up with messages from his agent, his coach, and his friends. But the one message he craved was from you. He knew he had to make a change, to prove to you and himself that he could balance his career with the love you both deserved.

The weeks passed in a blur of matches and press conferences, but Jack couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that had settled in his chest. His game suffered, his focus scattered. His entourage noticed the shift, their worried glances and hushed conversations a constant reminder of his personal turmoil.

One evening, after a particularly crushing loss, Jack found himself unable to face the empty hotel suite. Instead, he wandered the streets, seeking solace in the anonymity of the city.

He ended up at a small, dimly lit pub, the kind of place where the locals gathered to drown their sorrows and share their stories. The warm, woody scent of beer and the comforting murmur of conversation wrapped around him like a blanket. He took a seat at the bar, the polished wood cool against his palms.

The bartender, a middle-aged woman with a kind face and a knowing smile, approached him. "Rough day?" she asked, her voice a gentle rumble.

Jack nodded, his eyes downcast. "Rough few weeks, actually," he murmured, the weight of his words heavier than the silence that followed.

The bartender leaned closer, a hint of concern in her gaze. "Love troubles?" she ventured.

Jack sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Something like that," he replied, staring into the amber depths of his whiskey.

The woman nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. "It's tough when you lose someone important, especially when you know you're the one who messed up." She wiped the counter with a cloth that had seen better days. "But you're young, and you're talented. You've got time to make it right."

Jack took a sip of his drink, the burn in his throat mirroring the ache in his heart. "I just don't know if I can," he said, his voice thick with regret. "I've lost so much already."

The bartender's expression softened. "You can't change the past, love," she said, her voice a soothing balm. "But you can learn from it. Sometimes, you have to hit rock bottom before you realize what you truly want."

Jack nodded, the whiskey warming him from the inside out. He knew she was right. The pain of losing you had brought a clarity to his life that he hadn't felt in a long time. Tennis was his love, his passion, but it couldn't be his everything.

The next day, Jack took a deep breath as he walked into the gym, his eyes scanning the familiar space for any signs of change. His coach noticed the determination in his stride and nodded approvingly. They began to work on a new strategy, one that didn't just focus on his serve and volley but also on his mental fortitude. Between sets, Jack's thoughts drifted to you, to the way your eyes would light up when he talked about his matches, the way you'd listen intently and offer insights that often proved invaluable. He missed that connection, the way you understood him in a way no one else did.

As he swiped the sweat from his brow, Jack made a silent vow to become the person you deserved, to find the balance between his love for tennis and his love for you. It wasn't going to be easy, and he knew that he couldn't expect you to come running back with open arms. But he had to try, for both of your sakes.

One day, while he was in line at the coffee shop, Jack heard a familiar laugh. His heart skipped a beat, and he spun around, only to see you with an unfamiliar man, smiling and chatting away. The sight of you with someone else was like a knife to the chest. He quickly averted his gaze, pretending not to notice, but the pain was acute. He realized he hadn't seen you in person since that rainy night you left.

Jack's hand trembled as he took the coffee the barista handed him. He stepped aside, watching you from a distance, feeling like an outsider in a scene that used to be so intimately his. The stranger put his arm around your shoulders, and Jack felt a surge of jealousy that surprised him. He had known you needed more, but seeing it with his own eyes was a different story.

But you didn't miss the way Jack's eyes lingered on you, the desperation in his gaze. You felt a pang of guilt, but you steeled yourself. You had moved on, hadn't you?

You couldn't deny it, your heart skipped a beat when you saw him. You wanted to run into his arms and tell him you'd made a mistake, that you could work it out.

"You still have feelings for him, don't you?" You heard Alex whisper, a sad smile playing on his lips. You nodded, sipping your hot beverage.

"It's hard not to, but…I've moved on," you replied, trying to convince yourself more than anyone else.

"Have you though? Really moved on?" Alex's question lingered in the air, his gaze holding yours as you took another sip of your beverage. You swallowed hard, the warm liquid doing little to soothe the sudden tightness in your throat. "It's okay if you do," he added gently, "but maybe it's time to talk to him."

Jack watched you from across the street, his heart hammering in his chest. He had hoped that with time and distance, the pain would lessen, but seeing you with someone else brought it all rushing back. The months of training, the endless matches, none of it had filled the void you left behind. He knew he needed to make a change, to find a way to balance his love for the game with the love he had for you.

With a newfound resolve, Jack approached you, his sneakers squeaking on the damp pavement. You turned, surprise flickering in your eyes before they clouded over with caution. Alex stepped aside, giving you space. "Can we talk?" Jack asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, leading the way to a nearby park bench. The rain had stopped, leaving the air fresh and clean, the scent of wet earth and leaves filling the space between you. You sat down, leaving a respectful distance, your eyes avoiding his. "What is there to say?" you began, your voice tight with unshed tears.

Jack took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "I've been thinking about us," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "I know I've hurt you, and I'm sorry. I never meant to make you feel like you weren't a priority."

You remained silent, watching the children playing in the distance, the sound of their laughter a stark contrast to the heaviness of the conversation. "It's more than that, Jack," you said finally, your voice steady. "It's about feeling seen, heard, and valued. It's about being a team, not just having someone to come home to when you're done with your day."

Jack nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I get it," he said, his voice low and earnest. "I've been so focused on my career, I lost sight of what's truly important. I want to change that. I want to be better for you."

You studied him, looking for the truth in his words. The old Jack, the one who used to make you feel like the center of his world, seemed to be peeking out from behind the tired, burdened exterior. "What does that mean, exactly?" you asked, your voice laced with skepticism.

Jack took a deep breath, bracing himself for the hardest conversation of his life. "It means that I'll make time for us, really make time," he began. "I'll schedule breaks in my training, show up for dinner without my phone, and actually listen when you talk about your day." His voice grew stronger as he spoke, the conviction in his eyes growing brighter. "I'll do whatever it takes to fix this."

You felt a flicker of hope, but it was quickly doused by the memory of his past promises. "Words are easy, Jack," you said, your tone measured. "It's the actions that count."

Jack's expression grew serious, the lines around his eyes deepening as he nodded. "You're right. I know I've said a lot of things I didn't follow through on, but I'm different now." He paused, searching for the right words. "I've missed you. I've missed us. I can't stand the thought of losing you for good."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Jack, I want to believe you," you said, your voice wavering. "But I've been here before. How do I know this isn't just another fleeting moment of clarity before you're off to the next match?"

Jack reached out and took your hand, his grip firm but gentle. "Because I'm going to prove it to you," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm going to show you that you're not just a part of my life, you're the most important part. And if that means taking a step back from tennis, then that's what I'll do."

You searched his eyes, looking for any sign of deceit or doubt. But all you saw was sincerity and pain. "I don't want you to give up your dreams," you whispered. "But I need to know you're willing to make me a part of them."

Jack nodded solemnly. "I understand," he said. "And I'm not asking you to come back right now. I just… I want you to know that I'm willing to make changes. To make us work."

You felt the warmth of his hand, the familiarity of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. You had missed this connection, but the fear of history repeating itself was stronger.

"Jack," you began, your voice shaky, "I want to believe you. I really do. But I've been hurt too many times. I can't just jump back in without knowing it's for real."

Jack's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his thumb stroking the back of your hand in a comforting gesture. "I know," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "And I don't expect you to. I just need you to know that I'm ready to fight for us. To make this right."

You sighed, the weight of your decision pressing down on your chest like a boulder. "Okay," you finally said, your voice barely audible. "Let's take it slow. No promises, just…see where it goes."

Jack's face lit up with hope, a small smile playing on his lips. "I can do that," he said, squeezing your hand. "We'll take it one day at a time."

The days turned into weeks, and Jack kept his promise. He made an effort to be present, to listen, to be there for you without the distraction of his phone or his thoughts of the next match. He started to include you in his training sessions, even asking for your advice on his game. It was a tentative dance, both of you testing the waters, feeling for the old rhythm that had been lost.

You found yourself slowly letting your guard down, the warmth of his attention thawing the icy walls around your heart. But the fear remained, a persistent shadow that followed you, whispering doubt into your ear every time he had to leave for a tournament.

One evening, as you watched him pack his bag, the memories of the past filled the room—his hasty goodbyes, the forgotten anniversaries, the missed phone calls. You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach. "Jack," you said, your voice wavering, "are you sure this is what you want? That you can handle it?"

Jack looked up from his suitcase, his eyes meeting yours with a fierce determination. "I've never been more sure of anything," he replied, crossing the room to stand in front of you. "I love you, and I'm going to prove it every single day." He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to believe him.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of improvement. Jack's dedication to the relationship was evident, and his performance on the court reflected the newfound balance in his life. The press took notice, praising his renewed focus and maturity. His wins started piling up, and the whispers of a potential comeback grew louder.

But it wasn't just his game that had changed; it was Jack himself. He had become more thoughtful, more attentive. He'd surprise you with flowers, leave sweet notes around the apartment, and ask about your day with genuine interest. He was the partner you had always wanted him to be, and you felt yourself falling back in love with him.

Yet, the doubt remained, a quiet thief in the night that stole moments of happiness. You would catch yourself waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the day when he'd slip back into his old ways. Each time he picked up his phone to check his schedule, you'd hold your breath, waiting for the apology that usually followed.

But the apologies didn't come. Instead, Jack made plans with you, around you. He talked about the future with a warmth that had been absent for so long, his eyes lighting up when he spoke of trips you could take together, the life you could build outside of tennis. It was as if he had finally realized that there was more to life than the scoreboard.

One rainy afternoon, you found yourself nestled in his arms, watching a movie you'd both seen a hundred times before. His fingers traced idle patterns on your skin, and you felt a sense of peace that had been elusive for months. As the credits rolled, Jack leaned in and kissed you softly, his eyes searching yours for reassurance.

"I'm going to miss you," you whispered, as the reality of his upcoming tournament loomed.

Jack pulled you closer, his arms a warm cocoon. "I'll miss you too," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "But I promise, I'll make it up to you when I get back."

The days leading up to the tournament were filled with sweet gestures and stolen moments of intimacy. Jack took you on surprise dates, showered you with affection, and even cooked for you, a rarity in your usually hectic lives. His dedication to making amends was palpable, and you found yourself feeling hopeful for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

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