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formidxble · 4 years ago

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▸ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the 2 times bang chan tried to confess and the 1 time he almost did.

▸ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bang chan x female reader

▸ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff and humor || CEO x Secretary AU

▸ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.8k

▸ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @meow-minho @bxngchxn @fairy-of-shampoos @hyunsluvv @bobateastay @http-hyxnjxn @poutypoutybin @fizzydrink698 @minniehohos @the7thcrow @vanishingboots @qtieskz @arohabangtan @willwriteforhugs @mbbykh @helpsplease @freckledquokka @jisungcherry @crazyoverghosts @changlix-mp4 @asweeetdisposition @lixesque

▸finally !! this took so long, but this takes place before the events of “my house” ! you don’t have to read this in order to understand “my house” and vice versa. i’d also like to say that chan in this fic is 28 years old !!!

▸ before i forget, thank you for 900 followers! crazy how i posted “my house” as a gift for 500 followers, but now we’re here!! ahh, thank you! i hope you enjoy this, dear reader!

masterlist ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ my house

bang chan’s sure that he doesn’t believe in the concept of falling in love.

it’s not because of the bitterness that surrounded the concept itself, but he assumes it’s because of the position he’s in. while many think that being a CEO of the company entails many benefits, such as mansions, multiple cars, private jets, and tons and tons of women, he knows it’s actually the complete opposite.

maybe it’s because of his work-mindset that deters him from making meaningful relationships or maybe because he’s detached himself from everyone to guard whatever self-worth he still has. whatever the reason may be, he lays in his king-sized bed, alone, in a mansion that barely felt like home.

bang chan’s sure that he doesn’t believe in the concept of falling in love, but for some reason, as he stares at you from his office window, he’s sure he’s proved himself wrong.

he admits that he may have expected a firework or two or a grand celebration, but as he watches you tuck a hair strand behind your ear, he finally understands why people decide to throw themselves in the name of love with no plan, with no questions of how’s and why’s. the question is, is he ready to grab the opportunity, specifically the one that’s right outside his office?

his eyes follow you as you lean back on your office chair, huffing as you cross your arms in front of your chest before your eyebrows scrunch. chan chuckles softly and it’s got him wondering, for the nth time today, how he never noticed how your skin glowed despite being confined in a busy workplace. he’s never observed how pretty your fingers were when you grab a pen from the holder on your desk. and, maybe he was just blind all this time, but when has your hair looked this healthy and vibrant?

his stare is broken by the arrival of an employee who rests her elbows on your desk. chan watches how your eyes light up and how your lips curl up into a smile. he takes in a deep breath as his heart starts to beat faster. thoughts of work disappear and the image of you makes a home inside his mind. suddenly, his day’s a little bit brighter now, he’s not stressed anymore, and with your smile, he feels as if he can accomplish anything. now, he wants you to be the one to fill his days, afternoons, and nights.

and it’s probably the cheesiest thought that’s ever popped up in his business-centric mind, but that’s how love goes, he can only assume. the worst part is that he’s letting it take over him and he can’t find anything in him that’s saying no, that he shouldn’t push through with it, that it’s probably his loneliness playing tricks on him again. but, for the first time in his life, he’s able to say that yes, he’s ready to grab that opportunity, that chance for love, even if it’s uncertain, even if it hurts him somewhere along the way.

chan laughs.

it’s the mundanity of everything that intrigues him and chan wonders how a woman has managed to capture his heart in this manner. would it be selfish to ask for more when he supposedly has everything he could ever need? nevertheless, he rolls his chair back, a soft blush on his cheeks, before standing up and making his way to your desk.

no plan.

no questions of how’s and why’s.

you immediately stand up from your chair to bow and greet him and the female employee does the same, bowing with a small smile etched on her lips. chan grins and he’d be stupid to ignore the way his hands start sweating when you give him one back.

“come eat lunch with me,” he hums, putting his hands in his pockets. you tilt your head, eyebrows scrunching in response. chan chuckles as his head mimics yours. “unless, you have plans?”

you shake your head in response. chan catches the way you give your colleague a look and in his peripheral, he sees her scrambling away, a soft giggle leaving her lips. both of your eyes lock once more and you grin.

“let me get my stuff, then we can go, sir.”

in chan’s position, it’s always calculated— the probabilities of securing a sale, the percentage of the stock they’ll be able to acquire, and all that business stuff he’d grown accustomed to.

but now, he’s forced to think of all the possible outcomes in a scenario where nothing is certain.

there are many variables that come and interfere with the process of falling in love. feelings and emotions are built up over time and he can’t help but reminisce as the two of you make your way to the cafe. images of him getting angry flash in front of him, partnered with many different instances where the both of you argued in his office. he also remembers the way your eyes turn glossy during said arguments and the way you storm out when it gets too heated.

but, apart from memories like those, chan recalls the soft moments he’s shared with you over the course of the 8 years you’ve been together. the knowing stares, the smiles you share from across the room, the blushes that form on both of your cheeks, and the way the both of your hands absentmindedly reach out for each other when you think no one’s looking.

it’s become a secret language that none of you have consciously created.

and as chan pushes the cafe door open for you, he’s reminded that the line between your work relationship and friendship has been blurred for a long time. the both of you have grown closer to each other ever since you started spending more nights with him in his office. though it’s complicated, he knows that you’re not just his secretary anymore, but you’re someone he can confide in and someone he can trust.

with these, the outcomes that can arise from this conversation with you become hazier than when he started thinking of them.

the phone in his pocket is tempting, but he decides not to call changbin up for this one. he doesn’t know when and how to start, but at the end of the day, there are no rules to falling in love.

before you could fall in line, chan puts a hand on your shoulder. you turn to him as you raise an eyebrow.

“go,” chan tilts his head in the direction of a free table, “i’ll order for us.”

you blink. “but—“

“i insist,” chan chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck. “we don’t usually go out for lunch, so”—he grabs his wallet, holding it up for you to see—“it’s my treat.”

you step in closer, voice hushed only for him to hear, “you don’t have to, chan.”

formalities dropped, like what he’s used to with you in private, but it feels different now, hearing his name out in public. it rolls off of your tongue so easily and he can’t help but feel like he’s on a date.

“i want to,” he responds after a short while, watching as your cheeks turn bright red. “plus, it’s no big deal. we can always eat lunch together in the future if you’re up for it.” mentally, chan exhales shakily as the words leave his mouth.

you clear your throat as you nod and turn away, walking over to the table with no protests.

chan exhales through his nose as he finds his lips quirking up into a fond smile. his eyes follow you as you take a seat. he forces himself to look away before you could catch him staring, but at the side of his eye, he knows you already knew.

one thought pops up in his mind as he walks over to the table after ordering and paying, how was he supposed to go about this?

it brings him back to the talk about probabilities and being secure in your decision despite the uncertainty that comes with it. there’s a huge probability of him not getting the response he desperately wants to hear. is it enough, the moments you’ve shared, good and bad, for your feelings to grow as much as his did? and did you even have feelings for him in the first place?

he hopes the answer to both questions is affirmative.

chan’s hands start sweating as he grips the chair, pulling it away from the table. he takes a seat, your eyes locking with his as he makes himself comfortable. he had to admit that he has no plan and he has no idea what he’d end up saying, but as he’d come to know just earlier, love is about free falling and trusting the other that they’ll catch you. and one part of him knows, deep down, that your arms are open and ready.

at least, that’s what he wants to believe.

“miss y/l/n,” chan starts, clasping his hands on the table, “i brought you here to—“

your eyebrows shoot up as your mouth opens. “wow,” you chuckle shakily. “so formal. is this serious?”

for chan, it is.

his face heats up as he unclasps his hands, subtly wiping them on his pants. he flashes you a sheepish smile. “i just wanted to talk to you about something.”

you tilt your head, eyes not leaving his. chan’s heart starts beating faster as his lips part, but only a shaky sigh leaves it.

chan prides himself in his public speaking skills. he wouldn’t be called the industry’s Wolf if he didn’t do his job well. he’s spoken to a full stadium, presented in front of the world’s most prominent businessmen, and he’s travelled around the world giving seminars to people who aspire to be like him. but for some reason, he’s in front of a woman and he’s suddenly tongue-tied.

but, it’s not just any woman. it’s the woman he’s in love with. the thought makes him reel. saying it to himself has just proven that he’s madly in love with his secretary, you, y/n y/l/n. the woman who’s been with him ever since the beginning of this god-forsaken journey, the woman who’s seen him at his most vulnerable, the woman who’s stood by him after all these years.

“i—“

“is this about the schedule for this week?” your voice cuts through his thoughts and it scrambles them. chan feels like a teenager at this moment as his shoulders tense up, mind going blank at the melody of your voice.

“no, y/n—“

“i actually wanted to bring it up with you, as well. i’ve noticed that there are some inconsistencies with the schedule at the office and the schedule we prepared,” you grab a folder from your bag, laying it on the table, and opening it. chan blinks and swallows.

his eyes scan the paper in front of him, the surface littered with messy writing with a variety of colours adorning them. it’s hard to read if the both of you settled for this as the official schedule, but somehow, it doesn’t annoy him anymore. instead, his heart aches at the sight of your handwriting, the strokes completely unique to you and the design, if one could call it that, screams your name.

“unless,” you hum, “this isn’t what you wanted to talk about?”

as much as humanly possible, chan wasn’t here to talk about anything work-related. if only you knew the reasons behind his invitation, you wouldn’t be whipping out the damned folder. nevertheless, even as his shoulders fall to his sides, he leans over on the table, trying his best to focus on whatever it is you have brought to his attention.

“it’s fine,” he starts. “tell me about the problems, instead.”

“chan—“

“no,” he dismisses. “it’s nothing important. it can wait.”

this is what he gets for not having a plan in the first place. falling in love is all about falling into the depths of what is essentially the unknown, but it doesn’t mean that he has to dive in head first with no helmet. he groans internally as you flatten the paper on the desk, his confession thrown out of the window that’s beside the two of you.

suppose, it’s not the right time nor is it the right place. if chan was looking for fireworks and a grand celebration for his realization earlier, then maybe he can be the one to give that to the both of you once he actually gathers the courage to tell you how he feels. despite his defeat today, he forces himself to sit in front of you, and listening as you get into the nitty-gritty of the schedule in the office and the schedule you have on-hand.

truthfully, chan’s seen the inconsistencies before you could, but he lets you tell him, the sweet melody of your voice wrapping itself around and in him as he rests his cheek on his palm, eyes not leaving you.

“chan?”

your voice snaps him out of his trance and he raises an eyebrow.

“before i go on,” you giggle, “i’m paying the next time we go out, okay?”

chan cracks a smile, heart bursting at the thought of getting to be with you like this again. he hopes it’ll be a more relaxed setting. no more talk of work. just you and him, like he’d envisioned it to be.

“alright.”

hopefully, he’ll get to tell you next time. he’ll hold onto that.

the fateful next time comes rather quickly, just three days after the first one.

it comes in the form of a successful contract, with the client agreeing to it almost immediately. chan could sit back and say that it’s all his doing, that it’s with his charisma and wit that charmed the client, but truth be told, he couldn’t have done it without you.

first, without you, he wouldn’t have known about the company. sue him for not being interested in smaller companies as business partners, but it’s with your exceptional ability to get him to listen that’s made him understand the appeal. second, without you, the process wouldn’t have been as smooth as it was. papers arrived on time, meetings were set without a hitch, and the relationship with the client was amenable enough that it made transactions easier.

of course, all of the things you’ve done are considered to be the behind the scenes of a successful company, but for chan, you’re front and center. and though the success is connected to his name, it’s always also going to be your success.

as chan offers polite goodbyes to the businessmen who were exiting, his eyes drift to the other end of the room and it lands on you, glowing, with a wide smile that’s taking over your lips. your hair’s a bit disheveled, blouse not neatly tucked in, and the bags under your eyes are now more prominent than the last time he’s seen them, but to him, you’re still the most beautiful woman in the room. it’s multiplied tenfold when he sees you speaking to the client, the two of you laughing because of something you whispered.

chan’s heart aches and he knew it was the right time.

this is why he finds himself leading you up to the company rooftop.

chan’s an incredibly simple man when it comes to life’s pleasures. if he wants something, he’ll ask and he’ll get it, as simple as that. but, this is different. if chan wants to get something—get you, he knows he has to exert effort, even if it was as cheesy as confessing while the sun is setting in the horizon.

he has a plan now, a script to follow, and a solution to every outcome that may arise, but why are his hands still sweating in his pockets and why is he feeling light-headed?

chan pushes the rooftop door open, motioning for you to step outside first. he fights the urge to smile fondly when you narrow your eyes toward him. you step out nevertheless and he hears you gasp when you look out to the city’s skyline. he steps out himself, the door closing softly behind him.

the building is positioned perfectly toward the sunset and the light outlines your features. you’re glowing and it’s brighter than the brightest star responsible for this view right in front of him. chan puts his hands inside of his pockets as he stands next to you, watching the way the air ruffles your clothes and your hair from the corner of his eye. how he wishes he could be the wind softly grazing your skin as you looked out to the horizon.

chan lets out a soft chuckle as he shakes his head.

standing beside you, he understands why people say that love brings out the worst in you. chan’s never been the one to open up. used to guarding himself, he was taught to always be strong and to never show vulnerability, especially in public. he had an image to protect, a family legacy to keep going, and being weak won’t help him at all.

but, maybe, you can help him with that. make his worst into his best. chan sighs shakily.

“you did well,” chan starts as he taps his foot. you turn to him with a grin.

“thank you, sir. i couldn’t have done it without you.”

you cough softly as the words leave your lips. both of your cheeks heat up and chan uses this opportunity to move closer to you, the warm, afternoon air flowing around the both of you. just like the first time, the confession he’s prepared in his head is scrambled and he didn’t know when or where to start.

come to think of it, changbin did mention cue cards. chan smacks himself internally.

“yes, well,” his voice cracks slightly, “i didn’t bring you up here just to praise you.” you raise an eyebrow. “you and i both know of your abilities, so i won’t inflate your ego any further.”

“inflate my non-existent ego?” you joke, earning a giggle from chan.

chan turns to face you, wiping his palms on the side of his pants. you mimic him as you cross your arms in front of your chest, your head tilted to the side. your eyes lock and chan’s mouth grows dry. you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen and he wonders why he’s never pieced it together before.

chan takes a step forward before taking your hand into his. he feels you hesitate for a moment, your hand threatening to pull itself away from his touch, but after a while, your fingers relax into his palm, as do your shoulders. your eyes scan his face and chan prepares himself to dive into the depths of love, hopelessly.

“y/n,” he starts. “we’ve been working together for a long time now and—“ chan rubs his thumb on the back of your hand—“i can say that you’re one of the most extraordinary women i’ve ever had the opportunity to be with.” your eyes widen. “and it’s not just about our professional relationship, but it’s also about our relationship outside of it.”

“you’re not just my secretary,” chan pauses to look at you—your eyebrows are scrunched and your mouth is slightly open. “you are my friend, someone i can talk to when i’m alone, someone i can confide to, but y/n…” chan taps his foot gently on the floor as he looks out to the horizon once more, wetting his lips. he hangs his head briefly before letting your eyes meet.

“y/n, i want to be more than that for you. i want to be more than just frie—“

a familiar tune plays in the rooftop and chan recognizes it almost immediately. your ringtone. what amazing timing this has been.

chan blinks as the warmth on his hand disappears. his heart is ringing in his ears, yet he catches your quick apology as you fish your phone out of your pocket. before you could say anything else, chan nods, shoving his hand inside his pocket again. you shoot him an apologetic look before you make your way out of earshot.

chan steps forward to grip the roof railing enough to make his knuckles turn white. he hunches over it as his stomach starts to hurt. he feels as if his blood has been drained from his body and his head becomes light, a stark contrast to the way his chest feels in the moment. he gags softly when the air blows on his face.

he was so close to the edge, both literally and figuratively, but the ringtone had to pull him back to square one. if he thought that his mind was a pain in the ass earlier, it was worse now.

one thing is clear, though. the confession has been eating him up the past few days and if he wanted to feel like himself again, he had to tell you, even if it meant getting rejected and making things awkward around the office.

he could always continue once you come back, right?

but, he learns now that the universe has a funny way of fucking with him. he can’t continue anymore because how could he when you returned to him out of breath, eyes bloodshot, and hands shaky?

“y/n?” chan questions, pitch higher than intended. he puts his hands on your arms to grip them gently as he scans your face. he tries to ignore the panic that’s brewing in his stomach. another thing to add to the list of the things happening in his body.

“did something happen? is there an emergency?”

“my—my sister—“ you stutter, tears flowing down your cheeks. chan prepares himself for the worst.

“y/n, i—“

“she passed her dream university!” you exclaim before bursting out crying again. chan slightly deflates, his shoulders falling to his sides and his chest becoming lighter. he rubs your arms awkwardly before pulling away with a nervous laugh.

“i thought it was—“

“no, chan! you don’t understand how serious this is!” you scream. “we’ve been talking about it ever since she was a kid, now, she’s on her way to college. and not just any college! it’s her dream uni! sure, it’s expensive, but you know, we can make it work! we always do!” you run your hand through your now disheveled hair, a huge smile forming on your lips. “you know that one time i was telling you about my sister taking the exam? this was for that university! the—“

chan sighs internally. if he confessed now, he would be stealing such a monumental moment from you. it wasn’t about him or your relationship anymore, but it’s about your family and your personal life. instead, he lets you ramble as he rests his arm on the railing, watching and listening to you and your stories. chan tilts his head gently, a fond smile on his lips.

next time.

he’ll get to tell you next time.

lucky for chan, the next time comes exactly the next day during the company’s big blowout party for him.

he finds himself waiting for you in the car and the both of you were running behind schedule, but he knows why. you’ve always wanted to take your time dressing up during formal events such as this. of course, he’d always offered a professional stylist to make sure the schedules don’t suffer from your tardiness, but time and time again, you would decline. the memory makes chan scoff in the backseat, letting out a soft huff after.

“late again, sir?” his driver teases.

chan puts his arm on the arm rest as he replies, “as usual.”

when the front door of your house opens, chan’s reminded of the reason why he’s never pushed the professional stylist offer.

you’ve done your hair in a manner chan hasn’t seen before, but it suited you. your make up’s bold, but elegant, and your dress hugs your body perfectly, leaving nothing to the imagination. he gulps. you’ve always upstaged your looks and tonight’s no different. chan knows you’re definitely going to outshine him in the party later, but you deserved to be seen the way he sees you—not just as his secretary, but as a professional who commands respect in the rooms she walks in.

as chan sharply inhales at the sight of you, his driver chuckles quietly.

he knows deep down that he had to say something tonight, but as usual, he’s ready with the cheesy speech—the ‘you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me’, the ‘i want to be yours’, but he’s just not sure when to tell you. would it be a good idea to steal you away in the middle of a company event or would it be better if he waited until the both of you were alone?

another day, another dilemma it seems. however, this particular dilemma has no right answer. no matter what he thinks of, there’s always a negative outcome.

before he could delve deeper, he sees the car door open through his peripheral. “we’re late again.”

you hum nonchalantly as you make yourself comfortable in the backseat. “good evening to you too, sir.”

“are we good to go now or are we still on your schedule, miss y/l/n?”

“there’s nothing wrong with being fashionably late, right mr. bang?”

but, as most things in chan’s world, there is something wrong with being “fashionably late”. you and chan are ushered out of the car as soon as you arrive at the company. the staff are muttering something about the crowd waiting for the two of you—for the grand entrance as the others have labelled before.

despite being part of the industry for a long time, chan could only roll his eyes at the formality of it all. it wouldn’t hurt to let loose, but he lets the staff guide the both of you to where you needed to be.

on the way to the event hall, chan unbuttons his black formal polo. he tells himself that it’s for show, but really it’s to let out the heat that has formed throughout his body as the thought of potentially being able to tell you about his feelings takes over his mind, alongside his thoughts of feeling like a teenager again. nevertheless, he tries his best not to look in your direction as you walked beside him.

once you arrive, the staff tell the both of you to wait as they prepare the hall for the grand entrance. chan thanks them as they disappear from sight, leaving the two of you alone. he shuffles awkwardly as he waits before hearing a soft ‘tsk’ leave your lips. he turns his head toward you, but before he could ask, your hands are on his chest.

chan freezes, but he finds it in himself to choke out your name, mouth drying up as he feels the heat from your fingertips through the fabric of his polo.

“buttons,” you mutter, your fingers finding their way to the buttons he unbuttoned only moments before. “you have to look presentable, chan. there are a lot of eyes in there.”

his eyes travel from your hands to your face. your eyebrows are furrowed as you focused on the task at hand and he almost forgets to breathe the whole time you’re on him. your perfume takes over his senses and for a moment, he thinks he’ll float because of the cheesy happiness that has started to bubble in his chest, but he doesn’t. instead, when you raise your eyes to meet his and he sees that sparkle that he’s grown to love, he’s brought back to reality.

and that’s when he realizes, after years of denying it to himself, that it’s not a feeling anymore. chan’s sure that you make him human. around you, he’s not bang christopher chan, the country’s youngest and most successful CEO, instead, he’s chan, the 28-year-old man who’s hopelessly searching for genuine connection in an industry that offers none of the sort.

chan’s on top, constantly, and the others that have come before you have made sure to keep him there, but you’ve grounded him in reality every time the both of you were together. may it be as simple as you answering back to him or as deep as listening to him rambling about god knows what during quiet nights in the office, you’ve always offered him a time and a place to feel human—be human, even for just a few minutes.

chan mumbles your name once more, but you don’t seem to hear as you lightly pat his now-buttoned chest with a smile on your lips.

“there,” you hum. “keep them buttoned for the rest of the night, okay?”

“i—“

“imagine all the articles when you come in there with your chest in full view,” you giggle as you start stepping back to your previous position beside him.

“y/n—“

you playfully cross your arms in front of your chest as you continue, “you have to thank me someday, you kno—“

“y/n,” he cuts you off. “can you please listen to me?” you stop in your tracks as you turn your head, eyebrows raised.

you blink in his direction, lips parting, “i’m listening, sir.” you tilt your head. “what’s wrong?”

chan moves in closer to you as you turn your body towards him, arms falling to your sides. “on the rooftop…”

“yes?”

“i didn’t get to finish my, um…”

your eyes widen. “yes, of course!” you exclaim. “i remember, yes.”

the two of you stand in silence for a moment as chan tries to collect himself, mind a complete and utter mess like the first time he’s faced with this exact same situation. he looks up at the ceiling as he tries to think of a word, a phrase, a sentence, anything else he can say to free himself of the shackles he voluntary put on himself.

your voice cuts through his thoughts as you ask, “did you want to tell me now?” you look at the door in front of you. “we’re due to enter soon.”

“i’m aware,” chan mumbles as he steps in closer to you once more, “but, this won’t take long.”

you nod, eyes scanning his face as your eyes meet. chan inhales, letting out, “how can i—okay. shit.”

this is already a disaster. where’s his cue cards? “i’ll just—“

“chan?” you question, moving in closer to him as well, concern clouding the sparkle in your eyes.

“you’re amazing,” chan blurts out, albeit a little muddled. nothing like the present, yes?

“i—“

“you amaze me,” chan continues. “and you continue to do so after years of us working together and i sometimes wonder”—he grabs a hold of your hand as his starts to shake—“how you do it.” your lips part and chan notices how your chest has stopped moving.

“you’re so charming and just—“ chan lets go of your hand abruptly as he turns away from you, his hand finding its way to his forehead before hanging his head and groaning to himself. he turns back to you, your whole body frozen in place.

“i guess what i’m trying to say is that i l—“

“mr. bang? ms. y/l/n?” one of staff interrupts. you and chan jump away from each other, both awkwardly looking around the hall as blushes form on your cheeks. chan forces himself to make eye contact with the staff member as he rubs the back of his neck. he gives the woman a half hearted smile as he raises an eyebrow.

“we’re ready for you.”

you and chan’s eyes meet as the sentence echoes throughout the hall. he swears under his breath as his shoulders fall, eyes closing as he releases a huff.

“chan,” you mutter, a hint of worry in your voice. he inhales sharply before shaking his head and putting on his best smile for the lady that’s decided to ruin the moment. he nods before closes his fist as he turns toward the door, his jaw clenched. he feels you tug on his sleeve, but he ignores it, heart thumping in his chest as he offers his arm out for you.

“we have to focus now,” chan replies after a short silence. “it’s…it’s not important.”

you don’t say anything else as the atmosphere in the room turns heavy.

for chan, at least.

as the crew finishes up the final preparations around the both of you, you snake your arm around his and chan tries his best not to dampen the mood any further. he straightens his posture, his lips fall in a straight line, and his jaw relaxes as he exhales. and as much as he would hate to admit it, it’s in defeat. yet again.

before he could wallow in his own despair, you ask, “are we dancing tonight, sir?”

it takes a second for him to respond. “unfortunately not, miss y/l/n.”

“not in the mood to show off tonight?”

chan scoffs softly and he hears you giggle. his chest tightens at the sound, yet he appreciates the effort in making the whole situation less awkward than it is. picking up from where the both of you left off, like he wasn’t just about to pour his heart and soul to you.

“i don’t think we need to,” chan plays along. “this party’s for us.”

“us?” you exclaim with a small smile. chan merely nods.

despite the playful banter, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed in himself. why was it so hard to just…say what he needed to say? he can have a ton of scripts at his disposal, but why is it that when he’s in front of you he’s tongue tied? he felt like an idiot, a love-stricken idiot who couldn’t say it straight no matter how much he plans it out.

one question pops up in his slew of thoughts. “if not tonight, then when?”

he may never know the answer to that question. but, one thing is clear to him.

he started this week with some form of optimism that he’ll end up with an actual connection, but now, he feels as if he’s three steps back from his starting position. he sighs internally as he fixes his posture once more. no rest for the weary because the door to the event hall slowly opens and he squints at the light shining right at the two of you. he feels you squeeze his arm gently and he gives you a reassuring look in response.

chan tunes out his thoughts of his failed confessions and his inner voice saying, “next time.” he puts on another smile for the crowd as the both of you start walking in the event hall, the thunderous applause becoming deafening.

here we go again.

#kim tries to write #bang chan #bang chan imagines #bang chan x reader #skz fluff #stray kids #skz #bang chan fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #bang chan fanfic

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queenxxxsupreme · 5 years ago

Text

Longing

A/N: This is my first Captain Syverson fic and omg I love him so much ok. But this fic is trash xD i just wanted to see the scenario somewhere other than in my head ok. I’ve seen a few other writers give him the name Logan and I really think that fits (it reminds of Logan Howlett and Syverson definitely had some wolverine vibes)

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: none :) this is completely fluffy with some angst cause I can’t help myself.

Summary: Just when you think Syverson is home to stay, his job beckons him to the Middle East.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, trying to remind yourself that you needed to stop biting your bottom lip. You couldn't help but mess with the hem of your shirt, anxiety and impatience eating at you.

Your boyfriend of six years would be returning home after spending seven months overseas. You had waited for this day since he boarded the plane to leave.

The terminal was moderately busy with people scattered everywhere. Some were hurrying to get to their departing flight while others were chatting off to the side of the room.

A small pool of green and brown U.S. Army uniforms caught your attention. Your heart began to beat even harder in your ribs and you couldn't hide the smile on your lips.

Captain Syverson led the way through the terminal with his team right behind him. They were landing in DC and dispersing from there to go to whatever flights they needed to get home. You and Syverson lived right in DC so you were able to welcome him home.

You’re too caught up watching him that you don't notice the look of unhappiness on his teammates’ faces. Your mind was too busy going a million miles a second, thinking of all of the things you wanted to do now that he was finally home.

The heavy duffle bag in his hand falls to the tiled floor with a thud just in time for him to catch you as you threw yourself into his arms.

His muscular arms were steel bars around you, holding you as close to him as possible.

“Hey, angel.” His voice was quiet but still as deep as you remembered.

You took a moment to squeeze him before pulling back to look into the blue eyes you loved so much. You expected to see all the emotions Syverson never showed, to see the excitement in his gaze when he looked at up. But there was no excitement, no happiness that you two were reunited afteronths apart.

Your grip on him loosened and something began to form in the pit of your stomach–a new ball of tension and worry.

“What, Logan? What’s-What's wrong?” You spoke quietly, afraid your voice would quit working if you spoke too loud. You feared that maybe he'd lost one of his men.

“We got orders to go back.” His whisper wasn't enough to hide that Texan accent.

Your heart fell to your stomach. You pulled your arms from around him, shaking your head.

“There's been an emergency, angel. Only reason we didn't turn around mid flight was ‘cause the plane needed fuel.”

All of the thoughts that had been swarming your mind suddenly slowed down. You couldn't process what he was saying.

“You-You’re going back?” Your voice broke and your bottom lip quiver ed. Tears came to your eyes without hesitation. “Now? But-But you just-you just got here–,”

“I know, angel.” He pulled you into his chest, burying his nose in your hair. The sweet scent of your shampoo was enough to make him second guess leaving. He missed waking up to your scent.

His eyes closed tightly as he reminded himself that this was his job. This was what he had to do.

Your shoulders shook with quiet sobs. You buried your face into his chest, hands fisting his jacket. You hadn't seen him for seven months and now he was leaving already.

Syverson could feel you trembling in his arms and it broke his heart to know that you both would be separated for an unknown length of time.

You suddenly pulled away from him. Your hands pressing against his chest. Breathing was a struggle but every inhale of oxygen burnt your lungs. Your heart was beating so loud, echoing in your ears.

What if he died? What if this was the last time you got to see him? What if he was gone for another seven months or even longer?

“I-I can't do this, Logan.” You told him, your words almost incoherent. “I-I can't. I worry-I worry so much. And I’m so alone and-and the house is so empty without you. I can't-,”

“Yes you can, angel.” His hands took hold of your shoulders. He gazed down at you but you couldn't meet his eyes. “You're a strong woman, angel. I love you.”

“I-I love you, Logan, but it’s just–I-I can't-I can't–,”

He placed two of his worn and rough fingers gently under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. He cut you off with a kiss, savoring your taste and the feeling of your soft, delicate lips against his.

“Marry me, angel.” His words were mumbled against your lips but somehow your panicking brain was able to hear him.

You pulled away, lips parted as you breathed heavily.

“What?” You whispered. Your brows drew together. You couldn't have heard him properly.

“Marry me, Y/N.” He repeated, his large hand cupping your face. The pad of his thumb, calloused from years of use, brushed across the apple of your cheek to swipe away a tear. “Marry me.”

You knew the man before you wasn't romantic. The way he said it, almost like a gentle demand, was totally him. He wouldn't take you to some fancy dinner and then to some pretty location in DC to get down on one knee to propose to you with a nice ring. That kind of romance was for children, for princesses in fairy tales.

Your life was anything but a fairy tale. You saw your beloved boyfriend of six years about as often as one would see a good acquaintance. He was a soldier for the U.S. Army before he met you and he was extremely dedicated to his job, so much so that you didn't think he'd ever want to actually settle down for anything long term. You were surprised when he so casually suggested the two of you move in together after spending a rare Sunday afternoon watching football.

You were so used to your bed being empty and to your house being empty. You were so used to the waiting and the longing for your soldier. Some nights it would make you physically sick thinking about what could happen to him.

You had gotten used to going out with friends and hearing them talk about what they'd done with their partners or being present when they spoke about double or triple dates. Not only would Syverson never agree to going on a double date, but he was very rarely home and when he was for the few months you got to keep him, you’d rather spend those days in bed with him watching TV or watching him change the brakes on your car because you always forget to get them changed.

But you wouldn't change any of it for the world. Logan Syverson was everything you wanted in life and you wouldn’t change his ways for anything.

“Yes.” You nodded your head. A new batch of tears came to your eyes and began to make their way down your cheeks.

“Yes?” An extremely rare timid smile came to his lips, almost like he expected you to say no.

“Yes, Logan. Yes!” You threw your arms around him once more, holding him as close to you as possible.

His hands rubbed your sides and then slipped around you to embrace you.

A voice came over the intercom, calling for his flight to board their plane.

He pulled away from you, taking a second to look into your eyes.

“I love you.” He kissed you once, then twice and three times. “In my closet, look in the box on the top of the shelf. Your ring’s in there.”

“How long have you had it?” You sniffled, smiling at him.

“A while.” He grinned. “Love you, angel.” He gave you one more kiss before he pulled away and picked up his bag.

“I love you, Logan.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, already missing his warm hold.

He gave you a firm nod but he couldn't hide the smile behind his stern features.

You giggled at him and watched him leave, one of his soldiers clapping him on the shoulder.

As they disappeared around the corner, you choked on a sob. You brought your hand up to cover your mouth, moving to sit in a nearby empty seat. Your knees were shaking and your head spun.

Just like that, he was gone. But at least he was still yours.

Taglist for Syverson: @promptandpros @alyxkbrl

#captain syverson #captain syverson fluff #captain syverson oneshot #captain syverson x reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fluff #sand castle #sand castle captain syverson #oneshot #fluff

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fairyoftbz · 4 years ago

Text

[16:11]

🎄Day 18 of the Christmas project🎄

pairing : kevin x fem!reader a/n: there’s a scene where the reader showers with kev, but there’s nothing beside fluff (do people take showers with their s/o without ending up doing the deed? idk.)

"Finally," you whispered with a sigh, dragging the bags full of gifts and food for the holiday season. You had just spent the day in the stores with Kevin, your boyfriend for four years now, and all the Christmases you spent together were pretty much the same, at least in terms of pre-Christmas shopping. Everyone was rushing into the stores, screaming, or arguing for the last piece, who had seen this gift first, and so on. But at least the day was coming to an end, and you could think of something else, letting go of that stress you had on your shoulders since you stepped a foot in a store.

Putting the bags down in the kitchen, you washed your hands after taking off your jacket and gloves, letting your head fall back while your body wanted only one thing: to lie on the sofa in front of a good Christmas movie. Kevin also appeared in the room and chuckled at your posture, putting the bags down on the floor before getting closer to kiss your cheek.

"Y/N, are we getting old? Not in the shape to go shopping anymore?" You shook your head with a big smile, used to your boyfriend's little sarcastic remarks. He was playful by nature, you couldn't help but make these little comments to you. He just knew they made you smile and laugh, and that's all Kevin wanted to see. "Okay, I'll put everything all away, and then I'll take a shower, I'm tired," you said as you open the fridge, bulking up whatever food you can get hold of. Too bad, you'll put it all away tomorrow, you didn't want to. Kevin was doing whatever in the hall, but you worried about keeping the food cool so it wouldn't turn. "I'm going to shower!" you screamed as you walked to the bathroom, hearing Kevin wielding himself in the hallway. "Wait, I'm coming!" he said, and you quirked an eyebrow but shrugged. Why not after all.

You started to take your clothes off, feeling two cold hands unhooking your bra. Squirming to avoid the tips of his cold fingers, you let out a yelp as Kevin laid his hands flat on your back.

"Stop!" you swatted his hand away from your back while laughing, turning to look at him with fake annoyance. Kevin smirked before pulling his sweater and t-shirt off by the back of the collar, pulling his clothes over his head before tossing them into the laundry tub while you turned the tap on to let out the hot water. Loosening your hair, you removed the rest of your clothes before slipping under the hot water, feeling your muscles relax as the water streams through your hair. Closing your eyes for a few seconds to appreciate the moment, you couldn't see Kevin lean down to grab the bottle of shampoo and squeeze it over your head, amassing a certain amount that your boyfriend watched gliding down your head.

You flinched, opening your eyes when you felt a cold, gooey liquid run through your spine, before puddling blue on the shower stall floor, slowly vanishing on contact with the water. You don't say anything, just giggled and lathered the product onto your hair, giving yourself a nice head massage. You felt lighter, feeling the blood rush through your scalp, a tingling sensation still very pleasant. Kevin gently rotated you around, and his now warm hands came in contact with your shoulders, his thumbs trying to loosen any knots you might have in your shoulders and neck. A shiver ran through you as he touched a sensitive spot on the back of your neck, feeling your body relax under his touch.

"Does it feel good?" he asked, feeling his breath against your ear. "Only if you knew," you responded with a smile, turning to gently push him back, placing your lips on his. He was quite surprised but said nothing, did little more than respond to your kiss and encircle your waist with his arms. "I love you," you whispered against his lips, making him smile, kissing you one last time before pampering your face with kisses as he straightened up, his lips resting on your forehead. His mouth lingered on your warm, damp skin, a thoughtful look painted on his face. "I love you too," he said after a few seconds in silence, only the sound of the falling water filling in the bathroom. He held you against him, your hands resting on his abdomen to not lose balance, and you lowered your head slightly to kiss the valley that separated his two pecs.

Once you got out of the bathroom and dried off, you settled down in the living room, warmed and relaxed, thanks to this long shower. Before joining you in the shower, Kevin had ordered two pizzas, and they had just arrived. Hugging each other while devouring your pizzas, you could feel that your boyfriend was quite nervous despite the kisses and the shower you had just shared. You didn't dare to ask him what was wrong, not wanting to rush him or disturb him in the show you were watching.

Despite the overcast weather and the abundant snowfall, the last rays of sunshine piercing the clouds offered a magnificent spectacle, which came to occur in the living room, the opened curtains allowing the last rays of light to illuminate your little cocoon. Forgetting the series that was rolling on the television screen, you looked outside, lightly smiling at the marvellous spectacle that laid before your eyes. Nature was beautiful all year round, but there was something mysterious and enchanting about winter.

"It's beautiful, look darling," you placed a hand on his thigh, quickly turning towards him when you felt it bouncing under your palm. But why was he so nervous? "Yes, that's beautiful," he said, standing up, picking up his soda can to throw it in the kitchen, under your furrowed brows. You got up in your turn but decided not to follow him, approaching the window to admire this spectacle worthy of fairy tales instead. The landscape in front of you looked like a painting, and you couldn't help but pull out your phone to capture the moment.

Leaning your elbows on the windowsill, you admire this magnificent view for a few more moments, hearing Kevin come back in the room.

"It's really-" your eyes widened, and you were dumbfounded as you turned around, your heartbeat quickening as you stared at Kevin. He was there, in front of you, one knee to the ground, his eyes filled with love and nervousness. You thickly swallowed, your breath stuck in your throat as the man in front of you deeply breathed in.

“Y/N, we've been together for over four years now, and I have to say, these are the best years of my life. I can't thank Jacob enough for introducing me to you, I don't know where I would be without you. From the first time I met you, my life got a new start and my days got better, full of happiness. You are my sunshine, my reason for living. Your zest for life, your generosity, and your way of being are among the many things I love about you. In your eyes, I saw tenderness and passion and I learnt to love you more every day. No words can express my gratitude for all that you have given me, in simple and difficult times. I can't stay away from you anymore, my dearest dream is to spend the rest of my life by your side and start this family we hope for. We did not yet dare to talk about it, perhaps out of modesty or prudence, but today I ask you: will you make me the luckiest man alive and marry me?" Kevin looked at you with glossy eyes, opening the little red velvet box before your eyes. He revealed a shimmering ring, an amber stone shaped in a heart in the middle.

You gasped in awe when you saw the ring, remembering that it was a ring that you had seen in a local store on your last vacation. A whole load of questions flooded your brain, but you saved them for later, still dumbfounded about all the things he’s just confessed to you. Your eyes left the ring to come crashing into your boyfriend's, your vision blurring as you nodded.

"Yes Kevin, yes I do," you whispered, and Kevin let out a sigh of relief, getting up to come and kiss you passionately. When he ended the kiss, you looked at him, and he wiped away your tears of happiness before you snuggled up against him, feeling his heart hammering in his chest under your ear.

"I love you," he whispered to you as he took your left hand, sliding the ring smoothly onto your finger before kissing you again to mark your forthcoming union. "I love you too. So much," you whispered in his ear, stroking his cheek before kissing it, hugging him tightly.

It was just the beginning.

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kiriluvbot · 4 years ago

Text

lvr boy

todoroki has a rough day, and sero attempts to make him feel better. both boys figure out that distractions aren’t always the answer to emotional distress.

—

han !!: hey shou i saw u leave dinner early are u ok?

shou <3: yeah, just a bit drained. sorry i left without saying anything.

han !!: hun u don’t need to apologize, i jus wanna make sure ur doin ok !!

han !!: is there anything i can do?

shou <3: come over ?

han !!: u bet, On my way!

han !!: ive got an idea to cheer u up bb

and that’s how hanta sero got to be hanging from his tape on the rafters directly outside shouto todoroki’s room, over his balcony.

han !!: i’m outside <3

don’t ask him how the physics works; he doesn’t know either. hanta imagined what it must be like to be the fictional american hero, spiderman, and tried to stick his tape from the most secure place on the roof and dangled downward, getting into position as fast as he could so he’d be ready when shouto peeled open the door leading to his balcony.

except he hadn’t exactly said he would be on the balcony.

and it’s cold outside. hanta shivers as a rush of wind sends him waving like a flag outside shouto’s room. he feels more and more ridiculous the longer he sits—dangles?— here, with all the blood rushing to his head. what's taking shouto so long?

inside, shouto is peering into the hall, looking for a familiar head of dark hair. he’s tired. he needs hanta to be able to properly recharge. he misses hanta. he sort of wants to cry, sort of wants to melt into the floor, sort of wants hanta to sweep him up and make him forget everything else in the world.

he frowns when he finds no one outside his door. “hanta?”

where is he?

shouto glances over his shoulder, at the doors leading to his balcony, at the thick curtains blocking out the moonlight.

surely not...

but it’s hanta, and he had said he’d be outside. hanta comes up with the craziest ideas sometimes. but how could he have gotten out there?

shouto shakes his head once, crosses the room with apprehension. pulling back the curtain, shouto nearly jumps out of his skin at the sight of hanta sero outside his door, hanging upside down with a tight grip on his tape, the widest, goofiest smile on his face.

shouto slides open the door, the rush of cool wind sending goosebumps crawling over his skin. even being this close to hanta makes him stand up a little taller, already absorbing energy to start recharging. he’s a magnet. hanta is a ball of pure, unhinged light and love. hanta is a source of comfort, a place to come home to. shouto can’t stop his growing smile as it mirrors hanta’s own.

“there you are,” shouto breathes. that overwhelming weight that just kept building through the day starts to lay off, little by little.

“how’s this for a surprise?” hanta’s waving a bit in the wind. his cheeks, nose, and ears are dusted pink. inky black hair waves with him, curling at the ends. his eyes are dark pools full of stars, full of adoration, full of mischief.

shouto could—should—kiss him.

“i’m always surprised with you, hanta,” shouto says, laughing lightly as he steps out of his room, bare feet on the wood of the balcony. they’re close to eye level, and shouto raises his hands, almost unsure, and presses them to hanta’s grinning cheeks.

“gotta keep my boy on his toes, you know?” hanta tries to lean in the closer shouto gets like a moth to a flame, curious eyes searching shouto’s face for any tells of fatigue, of sickness, of sadness. he only finds sleepy awe. “gotta change things up every now and then.”

the two toned boy plants a ghost of a kiss to hanta’s forehead. it’s not enough. “this must be a spiderman thing,” shouto muses. “i know how much you like that guy.”

“naturally. he’s the coolest,” hanta giggles at that, and shouto’s fractured heart starts to mend. his cracked facade from spending the whole day strung out, anxious for nothing, begins to crumble at his feet. hanta has a knack for pulling shouto completely apart, for piecing him wholly together, for taking the pressure off shouto’s shoulders, even if it’s just for a little while.

“i remember the movie we watched together,” shouto hums, thumbs grazing over hanta’s cheekbones. “there was a scene similar to this, right?”

hanta’s skin burns under his fingers. shouto watches his adam’s apple dip as he swallows. “something like it, yeah.”

shouto meets his eye, recognizes that mischievous look flickering over his features. he chases the light, takes in every single detail of hanta’s face, every detail he has memorized like constellations at this point, every detail he wants to place a kiss to, every detail he never gets tired of.

then, shouto gets on his tippy toes and tilts forward, holding hanta’s face, and kisses his lover boy, slow and sweet. it’s strange kissing someone upside down, but hanta kisses him back like he’s been anxiously waiting for it to come, like he’ll never get enough.

it’s not enough.

when shouto pulls back, hanta is smiling again, dizzy and red faced. in a single, fluid movement, hanta flips and releases the hold on his tape. he lands, steady on his feet in front of shouto, wind blown hair framing his face like a priceless painting. his grin, his pure, radiating joy and goodness outshines the moon, as if the sun instead resides inside his chest.

he’s too good for me.

hanta’s eyes widen as shouto takes his reddening hands and kisses those, too. kisses his palms. his knuckles. shouto has always loved hanta’s hands; clever and sneaky hands, sure and gentle hands.

he knows the patterns of hanta’s hands like the back of his own, knows the life lines, the callouses, the old scar between his middle and pointer finger knuckles. he knows the pattern of all his moles and freckles and the way they creep up his arms, up his neck, down his chest like a fairy danced to their favorite song over his skin.

after a sharp intake of breath, hanta asks, “are you alright, shou?”

not really. i’m asking for a distraction. do you think a distraction will make it all go away? all this pressure on my chest?

the sincerity of his voice causes shouto to stop in his tracks.

i didn't sleep well at all. i had a nightmare about failing the hero course. i was late to class.

he looks up, blue and gray falling on gravitational black.

i got a 60 on our history test today and i locked myself in the bathroom for three minutes trying to remind myself it’s just one single test.

hanta’s smile is dipping.

bakugo was yelling more than usual. aizawa and iida both told me i was off my game. i spilled my drink in my lap at lunch.

he grips shouto’s fingers and pulls him closer. always closer.

i had to cancel my plans with my mom this friday to retake the test i bombed. i cried after we got off the phone.

shouto has to tilt his head up. hanta sure has gotten tall.

he feels childish trying to explain why literally nothing had gone his way today, why every small thing made him want to curl up and cry for hours. “just—today was a bit overwhelming. everything going wrong and getting too loud, you know? but i’m feeling better.”

now that you’re here.

when hanta leans into his space again, shouto unconsciously warms up the air around them.

“do you wanna talk about it?”

my coffee spilled over the edge of the cup this morning and hurt my fingers and i had to sit on the floor for six and a half minutes trying to suck the tears back into my eyes.

“not really,” shouto answers. it’s not a lie.

“you’re sure?”

his breath is warm on shouto’s face, eyes wide and sincere.

“i’m sure.”

if we talk about it i’m almost certain i’ll cry again.

hanta seems to buy it. his lip ticks upward just a notch. that curiosity turns sly as he releases shouto from his hold, as his hands dance up and over the shorter boy’s shoulders, over his shoulder blades, down his spine.

“totally sure?”

the space between is no space and too much all at once. it’s not enough.

“absolutely sure.” just kiss me already, you maniac.

finally, finally, hanta’s lips find his own, right side up and certain. stars explode in shouto’s chest, behind his eyes. supernova as his fingers dip into hanta’s hair, as he melts under the attention and contact, on his tippy toes.

all too soon, hanta pulls back, humming all the while. shouto nearly pouts at the loss until hanta dips down, those searching hands taking shouto’s thighs.

oh.

the smaller boy squeaks, though he’ll always deny it later, as hanta picks him up and wraps shouto’s legs around his waist.

oh.

he’s… carrying him.

this is new.

“we’re goin’ inside,” is the only explanation hanta offers. his head whips back up in a flurry of glittering hair and a puckish grin. always glittering. always grinning.

shouto holds on tightly, arms around around hanta’s shoulders. he keeps his mouth shut for fear of saying something completely stupid. hanta is talking, though shouto’s been too focused on the muscles of his back beneath his hands to really know what he said. his chin presses into shouto’s collar. shouto wishes it were his lips instead. god.

still holding on to shouto, with those goddamn hands on shouto’s thighs—i’m gonna die—hanta shuts the door and closes the curtain like he’s seen shouto do a thousand times during his nightly shut in routine. shouto considers asking to be let down but—but his hands on his thighs—i’m gonna die, i’m gonna die, this is where it ends—

hanta’s shampoo smells like grapefruit. his hair brushes shouto’s cheek. he wants to bury his face in it, wants to move it to the side and explore every freckle dusting his smooth skin, wants to kiss every single place he can reach—good god, he’s gonna die.

then, incredibly, horribly, boldly, hanta sits at the edge of shouto’s bed. he readjusts so shouto is sitting properly in his lap, legs still wrapped around his waist. those goddamn hands slide down the sides of shouto’s thighs, over the fabric of his pajama shorts, just barely grazing exposed skin, like hanta knows. shouto lifts his head from the crook in hanta’s neck to finally get a good look at him in this soft lighting.

hanta’s cheeks are still painted pink.

there’s so much contact. broad shoulders beneath his hands. solid chest if he drags his hands down. narrow waist if he goes even further, strong abs from swinging through the air and keeping his balance. his hands on shouto’s thighs.

any and all rational thoughts shouto may have had exit stage right.

“this okay?” he asks.

shouto responds with a single nod of his head. he’s distracted, alright.

that’s a good enough answer for hanta. the raven haired boy pressed forward once again, closing the gap, aiming for shouto’s lips but landing right next to them. shouto can feel his smile against his skin. his chest is tight, his fingers subconsciously twisting the ends of hanta’s wavy hair.

everything slows down.

“there’s a dimple here when you smile, you know?” hanta murmurs, a cold pointer finger tapping the spot just to the left of his mouth. he kisses that spot. it’s horribly and surprisingly tender, plucking shouto’s weakened heart strings. “have i ever told you how much i love that dimple?”

“i don’t think so.” his head tilts back.

his lips dip beneath shouto’s jaw. “what about this? surely i’ve told you how much i love this.” his kiss is warm, his laughter tickling as he says, “the freckles here look like the little dipper.”

shouto’s eyes flutter closed as lips press under his ear.

“the little dipper, hm?”

hanta hums and shouto can feel it vibrate through his chest. he pulls back a bit, brings shouto’s scarred hero-in-training hands up to his lips and kisses all ten fingers, all ten knuckles, slowly, making sure not to skip a single one.

“and your hands,” hanta murmurs, thumb rubbing circles on the soft part of shouto’s palm. “i love how capable and powerful they are, how you can create and destroy, how you still choose to be gentle.” a kiss touches down on his right palm, a strike through his heart. the sweetness makes shouto’s teeth ache.

there’s a smirk in his voice when hanta speaks again. “and these,” he says, breath startling warm and close to shouto’s collarbones, peeking out of his t-shirt. fingers dip into the fabric, pulling down just a bit. shouto sucks in a breath as lips land true on the bone. “always wanted to kiss you here, you know?”

what took you so long to do it?!

the part of shouto’s brain that was working to create coherent thoughts is in system shut down mode. he basks under the attention, under the light, under the worship of hanta sero, of his boyfriend, of his best friend. he basks and he melts, completely unsure of how to take it, how to accept it.

“and this—“ there’s a small birthmark at the very base of shouto’s neck hanta has wanted to kiss since they were first years. so he does. “love this here.”

every single bit of you, shouto todoroki.

there’s a pause that makes shouto open his eyes and search for hanta.

the taller boy could carry on all night, reaching out for every small inch of shouto todoroki that he’s in love with and explaining exactly why he loves each minuscule detail of it, but he pauses.

shouto’s brows dip, hesitant.

hanta came here to make sure he was okay.

he holds the gaze of the boy in his lap, of the boy he’s loved since he was fifteen, of the boy he’ll love until he passes on from this world to the next. there’s a blurry daze in his blue and gray eyes, but an ever deeper exhaustion pulls at all his edges. hanta can sweep shouto off his feet left and right, tell him all these lovely things and kiss him until he can’t see straight, but those things are merely temporary distractions.

i’m alright, i promise.

he tilts his head, and his smile is almost sad.

you’re not alright, i saw it in the way you tapped your foot in class, the way you pressed your icy fingers into your forehead, the way you avoided your table at lunch. i saw it in the way you were completely silent during practice, the way you wouldn’t engage in banter with bakugo, the way you couldn’t seem to sit still at dinner. i saw it in the way you left early, in the hectic, cracked state you were in when i got here, when you opened the door.

“hanta?” his voice cracks. shouto thinks, i don't deserve this affection. this appreciation. not from someone as good as you. you deserve—someone who isn’t ready to sob when you tell him you love something about him. hanta—

hanta presses his hand flat against shouto’s chest—no, his heart. he sees the way shouto chews on the inside of his cheek, the way his multicolored lashes flutter.

“i love you here, shouto,” hanta says. “when everything is too much and too loud. when you feel like nothing is going your way, when a split coffee cup feels like the end of the world.”

shouto’s lip purses, blinking furiously. his hands twist into the front of hanta’s shirt as the smaller boy falls forward, collapsing onto hanta’s shoulder with little grace.

“‘m sorry,” is the only thing shouto can muster.

hanta wraps an arm around him, pulls him as close as they can get. his lips press to shouto’s temple, to the stray strands of ruby locks there. “you don’t need to apologize, shou.” his shirt collar is wet. “sometimes… sometimes you just need to talk, you know? you need to let it out instead of leaving it unchecked.”

shouto’s heart pounds against hanta’s chest.

“you asked for a distraction. i should be saying sorry for getting all sappy,” hanta kisses his temple again, feels shouto’s shoulders begin to shake.

shouto laughs at that, small and weak and breathless. i needed to hear it. more than i thought i did. more than you know.

in truth, today isn’t the only awful day the two toned boy has had recently. it’s been every single day, one after the other, but he refused to acknowledge how tired and just plain sad he felt. he thought that if he pulled hanta into his bedroom and closed his eyes, it would go away with time.

and then the coffee burnt his fingers this morning.

that was the final shove. the final push to send shouto hurtling over the edge, stressed and strung out and overwhelmed. he just needs a break. a healthy, peaceful break that doesn’t involve reaching too far or doing something he might regret. he needs to plug in and recharge, to lay it all out on the table and sort through his troubles, to piece himself back together and get back to normal.

hanta hugs him tighter.

and now his resolve and control is cracking and spilling out, through his veins and his bones, through his heart and his eyes. he holds onto hanta like his life depends on it, letting it all out, finally giving in, finally letting go. distraction wasn’t the answer; he could only forget for so long, as more things piled on until it crushed him.

sometimes the world is too much, too loud.

shouto cries into hanta’s shoulder until there's nothing left. until he feels at peace. until he falls asleep in hanta’s arms.

he dreams of hanta with cherry blossoms in his hair, that same glittering grin on his face.

—

*drops this and runs a thousand miles in the other direction”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29825064

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alittleprincehwa · 4 years ago

Text

txt headcanons ─ ੈ♡˳ you’re extremely famous

alexa play ─ ੈ♡˳ fairy of shampoo by tomorrow x together

─ ੈ♡˳ choi soobin

he’d be so awed whenever he thinks of you

his eyes would have sparkles while he happily smiles

sometimes giggles to himself

( the members think he’s insane )

gets all cuddly and soft when he’s around you

constantly blushing

obeys to everything you say

and you have to remind him constantly that its okay to say no

which he always forgets and continues to say yes-

binge watch all your music videos

secretly watches crack videos of you when he misses you

when your on tour and he’s not he’ll miss you so much

miss all your warm cuddles and small kisses

( a / n : i swear i’m making myself cry )

but before you go to tour

which usually lasts for 6 months to maybe a whole year

he’ll make sure to pack you 10 of his hoodies that have his scent

and be clingy the week before

seeing you collab with other big artists ( like BTS, EXO, Twice, etc,,, )

makes him so proud

a little jealous if you get too close with other artists

always there if you get nervous or anxious before an event

if he isn’t there with you he’d call you

“ It’s okay babe, just breathe with me okay? “

“ Just remember, after all of this, we’ll cuddle for hours okay? I’ll cook you some ramen when you come home. “

if he’s with you

he’ll tightly hold your hand while grazing his thumb over your knuckles

hugs you backstage before the event happens

wishes you the best of luck

so in conclusion-

I don’t think he minds that much

although there maybe some effects

like stuttering sometimes, gets all fluffy, etc,,,

but overall, he’d just look up to you

as a girlfriend and as an idol

─ ੈ♡˳ choi yeonjun

we all know he admires his sunbaenims ( BTS ) 🥺

so having you as his girlfriend always makes his heart flutter

( as cheesy as it sounds )

always be the one to first stand up and applaud when you win an award

making it even more obvious you're in a relationship

always compliments you

pretty much won’t treat you different if you weren’t an idol

as cocky as he looks outside

when you two have skinship his heart goes boom boom everytime

always wishes you luck with a kiss on the hand

( Ah yes, cry over that. )

when you go on tour he’ll miss you so so much

probably takes the chance and tries to beg the manager to let him come along

which is always a no-

calls you whenever he has the time

texts you what he’s doing almost every minute

frequent skype calls

talks about his day while touches your face

( a.k.a the screen )

maybe the skype call,,,you know,,,escalates

anyways-

your hype man

hypes tf out of you on weverse

spams you every time you have a concert and he can’t go

“ I’m gonna non-stop watch you’re fancams 😤 “

“ Shit babygirl, this is what you wear when I’m not around? 🥴 “

“ So proud of you today !! (❁´◡`❁) “

( ikr the mood swings )

admires your beautiful face shdhsh

even if he knows a crackhead lies beneath

the first one to drown you in love when you get home

dosen’t let you breathe because

he needs hugs

dosen’t let go ever aGAIN

─ ੈ♡˳ choi beomgyu

gets even more comfortable with you since he can relate to you

he’s your support or shoulder to cry on whenever you’re too stressed out about a certain lyric or choreography

and vice versa

helps you whenever he can

practices with you

your #1 supporter

buys all your albums

merch

even lightstick

you name it

sweet babie even attends your concerts 🥺

and brings the others with him

vip of course

he gets all blushy whenever you look at him

esPECIALLY

when you look directly at him while singing

after the concert, backstage;

non stop hugging you

telling you how good you were today

just some boyfriend things 🥺

usual dates take place at the dorms or your apartment

since dispatch is a bitch

order some food and just watch movies all day

while snuggling with each other 😔

─ ੈ♡˳ kang taehyun

he knew what he was getting himself into when he established a relationship with you

so he promised to be your pillar

and that’s honestly the sweetest thing ever-

cheers you up when you're about to do a concert

watches you with pure adoration

takes notes

gives you feedback later

and you of course thank him for it 😔

since he loves photography

he'll hand you some polaroids of him or the both of you

so you can look at them when you're in tour

which is like

so pRECIOUS 😭🥺

he also keeps polaroids of you since he'll miss you so much

shdjsjhdhf

calls are regularly scheduled based on where you are

would stay up till two am just to talk to you 💕

hugs you with all his might when you arrive after months

hug? More like strangle-

─ ੈ♡˳ huening kai

always questions how he came to date someone so glorious

even if you're younger than him

he sees your performances and always goes :0

asks you your ways and wants you to teach him 🥺

goes uwu everytime you help him

gets really pouty when you have to go to tour

constant texts from him

mostly to remind you to take care of yourself

and secretly slips an " I love you " 🥺

his long arms and legs will just wrap around you when you two reunite

shyly kisses your cheeks since he can't help it 😔

probably your crackhead side will show up and you two dolphins will just have a blast

I'm sorry this is short I've run out of ideas 😔👉👈

a / n : and it's done !! My motivation just flew out the window--

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holylulusworld · 5 years ago

Text

The end of my empire

Summary: Dean Winchester, notorious mobster, lady killer – the man holding your life in his hands.

A/N: I had a request for a stripper!reader fic with Dean so here we go with a mini-series to this request.

Pairing: Mobster!Reader x Stripper!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Benny LaFitte, Charlie Bradbury, Bobby Singer, Cole Trenton, OFC’S

Warnings: angst, arguments, sad reader, Benny being a good bro, scared reader, hurt & comfort, mentions if injuries/knee pain, violence

A/N: Y/M/N = your mother’s name; Y/F/N = your father’s name

Explosive - Masterlist

“What else can we do to ease her pain? I had hoped that after she got over Nick that Y/N has a chance to become happy. Sadly, the ballet company didn’t give her a chance and now her career is completely ruined.” Your mother sniffles showing Bobby the result of your examination.

“Looks bad, Y/M/N. According to Alex, the damage is irreversible. The swelling and inflammation didn’t help, though. I should’ve ripped that boy a new one.” Bobby grumbles, remembering your shaking form when he arrived at your mothers’ shop.

“That man, she’s in love with him. We can help her with money, her knee, and everything else but healing her heart again is an impossible task.”

Your father holds back a sob when he looks at the picture of you in your tutu and ballet shoes. The picture he keeps in his wallet since you are five years old.

“She was so talented, and that bastard ruined everything.”

“We both know that Y/F/N, but what can I do? Nick lied and we could only arrest him for drunk driving. Y/N made the mistake to admit she urged her idjit of a boyfriend on to drive faster.” While your mother sighs, your father balls his hands into fists.

“I will kill that man if he ever gets close to my munchkin again. He has no right to come here and fake he wants to apologize for treating my girl like …” Crossing his arms over his chest your father’s features darken. “I will not repeat that word.”

“Dean Winchester is a dangerous man. He has clubs, money and according to the feds – he’s involved in a lot of more than shady deals.” Bobby opens a folder to show your father the information he got from Cole Trenton.

“I am not afraid of a bastard. At my best times, I ran three of those guys over. I will not cower for such a pathetic little shit.” Panting your father jumps up and your mother admires the gang tattoo at his right arm.

“Darling.” Your mother gently pats your fathers’ arm when she steps closer to him.

Even after being married for over 25 years, her heart flutters when her husband gets mad. It reminds her of his ‘wild times’. “It sounds like Dean Winchester is a mobster, not just a wild guy with a bike.”

“We all know Y/F/N, I and Rufus weren’t only youngsters with a bike, Y/M/N. Back then we did a lot of illegal stuff, you know that but…” Closing the manila folder Bobby sighs. “That agent, he said Dean is dangerous, even threaten to kill Y/N but…”

“But…?” Rage in his eyes your father glares at Bobby. “Why didn’t you arrest that monster?”

“Cole Trenton gives me bad vibes. The way he talked about that Winchester guy, the way he reacted when I told him about Y/N and that Dean came here to find her made my stomach churn. I do not trust that guy.”

Bobby finally gets up to place one hand onto your fathers’ shoulder. “I promise that the Winchester boy will not get the chance to hurt your girl, but we shouldn’t involve that fed.”

“I trust your guts, Bobby. If you are telling me the FBI guy is fishy, I believe you…”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Robbing toward the edge of the bed you try to get up, but Dean holds you back. He can see you are in pain again and leaves the bed to pick you up. “Let me down I want to go to the bathroom.”

“I can help you with the toilette, Sweetheart.” Face deadpan, lips pressed into a thin line you glare at Dean. “No problem.”

“I want to have a warm bath to help my knee relax. I can do it alone…” Grumbling you rub your hand over your knee. “Mom helps me when she’s around.”

“I can do this too, Baby Girl. Let me help you, please. I’ll do anything to make you feel better.”

“Let me go and never come back – this makes me feel better.” Your eyes fill with tears, but you refuse to let them out. “You damaged me enough. Just look for another girl you can play with.”

“I never played with you, Y/N. Yes, I was an idiot, a monster, and the man hurting you but please believe me it was only as I never could trust anyone but my brother and myself. All women, friends, and even family turned me down for a few bugs.”

“My mom will strike you down with a pan again. Dad will run you over with his bike and Uncle Bobby will arrest your ass.” Arms crossed over your chest; lips pursed you groan as Dean carries you into the bathroom.

“I thought about what you said, Y/N. Maybe it’s time that I give up something important. I could give up my clubs and give them to Sammy. He was better at running the business from the beginning.”

Silent you do not react to Dean’s words. All you do is to grasp for the washbasin when Dean carefully places you onto your feet. “Wait, I’ll run the bath and help you undress…”

“Forget it! I will not let you help me undress.” Your eyes narrow and you slap his cheek harshly, only to lose balance and end up in his arms again.

“I hate you! You’re like Nick. He promised to love me, promised he would never even look at another girl. But then I got hurt and he replaced me with another girl in a blink of an eye.“

“Baby Girl, I did not replace you. All those months I was sulking in my room and slept on your side of the bed. I desperately tried to forget you but…” Pressing his lips to your hair Dean sighs. “I can’t forget my fairy. If you give me the chance, I’ll prove I can be the man you want, the one you deserve.”

“Dean, just let me go. I can never believe anything you say as when I needed you the most, you weren’t there. Even worse, you caused more pain than anyone before.” When you hear the front door, you panic. “My parents are back; you need to go.”

“I’ll not leave you alone. Whatever your mom wants to do with the pan to me, I’ll bear it.” Dean states but you push against his chest. “I’ll stay in town no matter what you say.”

“Fine. We can talk tomorrow but now go!”

“I’ll be there, Sweetheart…” Dean lifts you easily to help you sit on the edge of the bathtub. “Shame you didn’t let me undress you…”

You do not smile or look at Dean, but you toss a bottle of shampoo at him and he smirks. “Love you too, Y/N…”

“Hello, Ms. Y/L/N.” Your blood freezes and your hands start to shake when Cole Trenton out of all people stands in your mother’s café.

“I’d like to continue our conversation from a few months ago. We still haven’t found Mr. Winchester's latest victim but it’s only a matter of time.”

“Get out of my mom’s café and this town! You ruined everything. Dean he…he got mad and hurt me. You ruined my relationship; my knee and my job now leave town, or I’ll call my Uncle Bobby!”

Limping toward your purse you want to call Bobby, but Cole grasps your arm harshly and your mother drops a plate with pie.

“Let my daughter go! Do you have no manners? Grabbing a girl who can barely stand on her injured leg. You…you monster!”

Ready to attack Cole your mother grabs her rolling pin, ready to split his head but the door swings open and Dean, followed by Benny and Sam steps into the café.

“I think,” Dean dips his head, glaring at Cole. “The friendly lady said you shall let go of her daughter. If you are here to arrest me, do so. If not shove your ass out of the store and keep your hands off my girl.” While Benny pats his gun, Dean and Sam step closer to Cole.

“Last warning, Mr. Trenton, or shall I call you fake agent?” Charlie peeks out from behind Sam, waving at you. “Hi! I am Charlie.”

“Fake agent?” Gaping at Cole who still won’t let go of your arm you sniffle. “Let go of me!”

“What the…!” Bobby’s eyes dart from Benny who’s ready to shoot Cole to the agent holding your arm in a painfully tight grip to Dean who looks like he wants to rip Cole’s throat out with his teeth.

“I am Sheriff Singer, and this is my town. Let go of miss Y/L/N or I need to arrest you.”

“I am a federal agent.” Bobby huffs, recognizing Cole’s face.

“I don’t care if you are the Queen of England. This is my town, the girl you are hurting is my goddaughter and I am sure the gentlemen next to me would gladly help me get you out of this nice establishment.”

Reluctantly Cole let go of you and Dean lunges forward to slam his fist into the grinning agent's face.

“That wasn’t smart, Winchester.” Dean doesn’t care Cole snickers, nor does he flinch when the agent gets his handcuffs out. “I will arrest you for…”

Dean carefully picks you up to bring you away from Cole who tries to end his speech but Sam and Benny step closer, along with a pissed Bobby Singer.

“I think you did not understand me. I��ll explain it to you as if you are a toddler.” Bobby checks on you in Dean’s arms, a soft smile on his lips as you hide your face in Dean’s chest.

“This is my town. This is my territory and you dared to lay a finger on my goddaughter. According to your boss, the case against Mr. Winchester is one big lie.

You and your lovely fake witness Lisa Braeden tried to create a case against him and threatened my goddaughter. I saw the video you vulture dared to touch her during an interrogation. I talked your boss and he said I can arrest you if you are stupid enough to get close to Y/N.”

While Cole follows Bobby outside, a dark look on his face when his boss exits his car your mother tightens the grip on her rolling pin as she steps toward Dean who refuses to let you down.

“I’ll give you ten seconds to let go of my daughter or I swear I’ll rip you a new one.” Benny snickers while Sam takes a step backward.

“One…”

“Ma’am, I can assure you I will not hurt Y/N.” Dean gasps when your mother pokes the end of the rolling pin into his bicep.

“Two…”

“Please, I apologized and will do anything Y/N wants as I love her. I…I made a terrible mistake but I called my brother and friends to show my Sweethart, that I want to change and give up my old life.” Your mother gives Dean a disapproving grunt before she pokes him again.

“Three…”

“Dude, maybe you should let Y/N down and talk to her later. That asshole got arrested and we will stay in town for a few days…” Sam tries but Dean presses you closer to his chest.

“No…” He’s eyeing the rolling pin warily, gulps even when your mother swings it.

“Four…”

“Mrs. Y/L/N, I love your daughter. Maybe I do not deserve forgiveness, no that’s sure but I’ll do anything to get her back. You can hit me hard with that thing but I’ll not let her go.” Dean presses a soft kiss to your hair and you stir in his arms.

“Five…” Blinking Dean carefully places you onto a chair, covering your shaking form with his jacket before he nods at your mother.

“Do it!”

“I am not joking you…you bad guy.” Poking the rolling pin into Dean’s chest your mother keeps an eye on the mobster while she tries to check on your arm. “I should have hit that bastard.”

“I am sure he will get what he deserves, ma’am. Do you mind if we order some pie?” Benny rumbles.

“Pie...” Dean looks at the pie, licking his lips while your mother keeps him at arm's length with the rolling pin.

“Sammy?” Looking for help, advice, or anything to keep your mother from killing him Dean glances at his brother.

“Sorry, Dean but this is your problem.”

Benny smirks while he walks toward the counter to order pie for Sam, Charlie, and himself. “I want pie too.” Whining Dean looks at the pie. “I love me some pie.”

“Rules, Winchester.” Your mother looks at you with worried eyes when you finally speak. “I want to live here. I will not leave and if you want me, you’ll have to stay here with me.”

“Will I get free pie?” Angrily poking Dean’s chest your mother shakes her head. “You’ll have to pay for it, idjit.”

“What else do you want? Maybe I can help you with fulfilling your dream…” Dean looks at your knee and you need to stifle a sob.

“It’s ruined, always was. There is no dream left…but…”

“But…?” Dean kneels to grasp for your hand. “What dream? Tell me and I’ll help you…”

“I want to save the dance school in town. I learned to dance with Mrs. Carson and always imagined becoming like her. A retired ballerina teaching young girls and boys how to dance.”

Looking at your knee you sniffle silently. “Guess I am not allowed to call me a ballerina…not even a retired one.”

“I’ll buy it for you. We can do together. I am the big bad guy making sure that no one messes with our school and you can teach the girls.” Dean exclaims while you downcast your eyes.

“It’s just a stupid dream, nothing worth trying.”

“No…no. It’s your dream, Sweetheart. I’ll buy the school and every fucking pie in this café. We will make it…please…” He’s picking you up in bridal style, a smug grin on his face. “Mrs. Y/L/N I’ll kidnap your daughter to have a look at the school.”

“It’s a rotten building and no one dances…” Your mother stops talking when you look up at Dean who tells you he’ll make sure the dance school will be yours.

“Can you tell me where to rent an apartment? I’d like to not sleep at that motel or my car again.” Hopefully looking at your mother Dean gives her his most charming smile.

“We don’t have free apartments. Only this huge house at the end of the street, but that’s for sale and expensive.” Humming you smile.

“I liked to sneak through the fence and have a look at the house. I was huge and they had a backyard with roses and other flowers. It was nice…”

“You liked it?” Dean looks at your happy face and he knows; you love the memory of the house.

“My friends and I imagined what it looks like inside and sneak in one day. There was this fireplace as high as the whole living room and shelves full of books. It looked like in a fairytale.”

“I’ll buy it for you, and we can restore it…” Not accepting any argument Dean looks at the cherry pie. “We will eat the pie and we’ll look at the houses later. Your mom can come with us to witness that I’ll not hurt you.”

“We shouldn’t, Dean. You should go back to your life.”

“No. My life is empty and loveless without you, Sweetheart. If I have to live in this small town, run a dance school and buy a house straight out of a fairytale, so be it. Dean Winchester will retire…which means…”

“Which means?” Your mother cocks a brow, still the rolling pin in her hands.

“This is the end of my empire…”

Tags in reblog.

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trip-downtheriverstyx · 4 years ago

Text

Lauryl’s Ships as TXT Songs

Simber - Cat and Dog (this made me laugh out loud and its so Right i take no criticism also this is the best song ever written)

Turn me from a cat into a dog Now, I want you to take me on a walk Watch me be the most loyal of them all Okay, baby, here's the leash (Purr purr purr)

Helle - 9 and 3/4 (Run Away)

Be my forever Call my name Run away, run away Run away with me At the end of the world forever together Run away babe give me an answer

LOUD - Ghosting (this one inspired this post and is set during lou ghosting hades obviously)

Stay up all night with your open eyes like a zombie I'm looking for a sign of parting in the conversation I don't know yet All day all day all day all day You disappeared for a moment, you disappeared Like a faint ghost I bury it in the air What do I say to you (what do I do)

Loud Bell - Magic Island (haha this made me Cry lol)

This night where the stars are asleep A familiar and unfamiliar river Over the ashen grey Did you wait alone for me? Our clumsy promises A small island from which secrets began

Saddle Club - Angel or Devil

Tell me, what should I choose Either angel and devil This struggle in my head Why don't you just be the judge (Woo, babe) I want to reach in your heart, in your heart

Matcha - 9 and 3/4 (Run Away)

The sky-coloured magic circle, it will colour the classroom So that the summoning spell brings us together When we go through this tunnel When we open our eyes Our dreams become reality

The Ashleys - Can’t You See Me?

I’m yours, You were mine Secrets of the world That eternal promise was like magic Our Scintilla bloomed underneath the starlight Now see them burn in fire Turned into ruins, our memories into ashes

Leighly - Nap of the Star

I'm afraid of the dark silence that doesn't answer when I call out to you in the night sky Maybe we should forget it now The moments that felt like magic and the night sky I walked with you They might just disappear like dreams

Tiny Dancers - Blue Orangeade

You like red roses You like the blue sea But I like violet again I want to go to the mountains We're the opposite That's why it's so special It seems like Like Blue Orange

Romo - We Lost The Summer

Cause we lost the summеr When we lost each othеr Return my seasons Oh, it's all gone Eternal winter Now I just miss ya Give us back Oh, it's all gone We lost the summer

Namtae - 20cm

We have been together since we were kids (That's right) In that hot summer, I haven't seen you in a long time (Uh) My height is tall and my voice has deepened Quietly, every night (Ayy) My height and my feelings (Ayy) towards you that have grown (Eh) Must have grown in step with each other (My heart that's looking at you) My heart is very different from before

BFFs - Crown

There's a horn rising up on my head But I love it You become my crown The sensation of going pit-a-pat My heart is mayhem But I love it We have finally become perfect The two of us, us, us

Lemo - New Rules

Even though I know that I'll be punished I want something more exciting, give it to me If it chooses to cross the line, I want it If you want me not to do it, I do it Stupid but I Want to be a punk!

Lunch Squad - Can’t We Just Leave The Monster Alive? (my favourite ;-;)

Do we really have to break this stage to become adults To do well I want to be a boy forever Oh, in the dark maze In the twisted tangled bushes Oh, I even like the monster in the forest

Soft - Our Summer (its hilarious bc they r winter fairies)

Spread before your eyes is the ivory Milky Way Blooming gold season, like our summer No matter where you are, no matter what season If we're together, feel like summer

Attendy - Fairy of Shampoo

Whenever I see her, I'm not lonely Even if I’m with my sad heart It just disappears far away She's my fairy of shampoo From this moment on, I will love her

#headcanon #i did this whole thing for no reason i pulled up this loud post and got horribly distracted but #txt has never had a bad song its true #LOUD #loud bell #helle

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splendidlyimperfect · 5 years ago

Note

StinGray with prompt 60?

you’ll be in my heart

Prompt: “You look like you need a hug.”

I apologize for this taking so long! I know the prompt was for Sting x Gray and it is, just within the OT4 relationship. Hope you enjoy!

Rating: General AudiencesWarnings: No Archive Warnings ApplyRelationships: Rogue Cheney/Natsu Dragneel/Sting Eucliffe/Gray Fullbuster, Sting Eucliffe/Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel/Sting Eucliffe, Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Rogue Cheney/Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Rogue Cheney/Natsu DragneelCharacters: Sting Eucliffe, Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel, Rogue Cheney, Happy (Fairy Tail), Frosch (Fairy Tail), Lector (Fairy Tail)Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Polyamory, Light Angst, Fluff and Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Childhood Memories, Mother-Son Relationship, Men Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hugs, Sting just really misses his mom, and Gray's good at making him feel better, Tumblr: FTLGBTalesSeries: Part 41 of i'm with them

-----

Rain pattered down against the kitchen window, sliding across the glass and puddling outside on the windowsill. The sound was soothing, and Sting sighed, leaning against the counter and looking down toward the street.

“Hey, pretty kitty,” Sting murmured as Frosche hopped up next to him, mrowling happily and rubbing herself against him. He ran his fingers through her fur, and she arched her back, pressing up against his hand while she rumbled with a deep purr.

Sting kissed the top of her head before she turned toward the window, putting her paws up on the sill and squeezing herself between the plants that Rogue had set up there. She barely fit between them and her tail hung down into the sink, flicking back and forth as she watched the raindrops.

Sting was about to move away from the window when he saw a familiar vehicle on the street. Some of the tension that had been sitting in his chest all day loosened as he watched Gray’s beat-up car pull into the parkade below the apartment.

“Looks like Gray’s home early,” Sting said to Frosche. She tipped her head back at him and meowed happily.

A few minutes later the door swung open and Frosche hopped down from the counter, sauntering over to greet Gray.

“Hey, sweet girl,” he murmured as she rubbed herself against his legs. “How was your day?”

Continue reading on AO3

“She’s been following me around the house all morning,” Sting said, taking Gray’s jacket and leaning in for a kiss. “I think she missed you.”

“Of course she missed me,” Gray said, returning the kiss and leaning down to pick Frosche up. “Her brothers are assholes and troublemakers; she needs someone nice to cuddle.”

“Hey, Lector’s not an asshole,” Sting protested, following Gray into the bedroom and flopping down on the bed. Lector, who had been sleeping on the pillow, reached out and batted at Sting. “You’re not helping your case,” Sting muttered, nudging him away. Lector quickly grappled Sting’s foot, kicking at it with both back feet until Sting grabbed him by the scruff and set him down on the floor.

“You were saying?” Gray said, laughing as Lector sauntered out of the bedroom. He tugged off his button-down shirt and tossed it in the laundry basket, then yawned and stretched, tipping his head from side to side and sighing.

“He’s not always an asshole,” Sting amended. He grabbed one of the pillows and pulled it close, pressing his face into it and sighing. It smelled like Natsu’s shampoo.

“You okay?” Gray asked, sitting down on the bed and reaching over to brush Sting’s hair out of his face. “You look like you need a hug.”

Sting hesitated, then nodded and let Gray move the pillow so he could lie down and pull Sting into his arms. Gentle fingers combed through Sting’s hair, and Gray pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

“What’s wrong?” Gray murmured. “How can I help?”

“It’s…” Sting hesitated, running his fingers over Gray’s necklace. “I dunno.”

“Did something happen?” Gray asked. Sting sighed, then closed his eyes and curled up closer, tucking his head under Gray’s chin.

“’s my mom’s birthday,” he said quietly. Gray was still for a second, then hugged Sting tightly, rubbing his thumb over the tense muscles in the back of Sting’s neck. He was quiet, and the silence was somehow more comforting than anything he could have said.

“I miss her,” Sting said after a minute. He exhaled quietly, matching his breathing to the quiet rise and fall of Gray’s chest. “I know it’s been almost twenty-five years now, but...”

“Grief doesn’t have a timeline,” Gray said gently, words vibrating in his chest under Sting’s fingertips.

“I know,” Sting said as Gray’s lips met his temple. “I just... sometimes I can’t really... I can’t...”

“Can’t what, love?” Gray asked, shifting back and running his thumb across Sting’s cheek. The tears that had been on the edge of falling all day were pooling in the corner of Sting’s eyes and he let out a shaky sigh.

“I can’t remember what she looks like,” he whispered, voice breaking on the last word. “I mean—I have pictures, and Oma does, and I can... I know what she looks like, but I can’t remember it.” He rubbed his face, trying to swallow back the tears. “It’s all just... I know she read to me, and we made cookies and all those things, but it’s all blurry and I can’t remember, and I feel so guilty.”

Gray slid his hand down Sting’s arm until their hands were clasped, then squeezed as Sting pressed his face into the crook of Gray’s neck. “I tried to talk to Oma today,” Sting added, voice muffled by Gray’s shirt. “We went out for lunch, but she kept changing the subject. I think it just makes her sad.”

“Why don’t you tell me about your mom?” Gray suggested. “What do you remember?” He shifted until he was lying on his back, and almost immediately Frosche jumped up onto the bed to curl up on his stomach. Lector and Happy weren’t far behind, and soon Sting and Gray were surrounded by the sound of contented purring.

“She loved to bake,” Sting said softly, running his fingers through Frosche’s fur. “Especially at Christmas. I liked to lick the beaters when she was making chocolate chip cookies.”

“Hm, sounds familiar,” Gray said. Sting laughed, thinking of Natsu sneaking into the kitchen to eat cookie dough while he baked. Gray ran his fingers through Sting’s hair, curling the ends of it around his fingers.

“I used to have long hair,” Sting said as Gray’s thumb brushed behind his ear. “Well, not like Rogue’s or anything, but longer than it is now. When I started kindergarten, Mom kept asking if I wanted to cut it, but I said no, because…” He trailed off, rubbing his face with the back of his hand.

“Because what?” Gray asked gently.

Sting smiled sadly. “I wanted to look like her.” Gray made a soft sound and ran a hand up Sting’s arm. “This is hers,” Sting added, reaching up and touching the earring he was wearing. He didn’t wear it often – dangly earrings were a hazard when working with small children – but today it had felt right. Gray tucked Sting’s hair behind his ear and ran his thumb over the bright diamond.

“It’s gorgeous,” he said. He looked at Sting’s other ear and frowned. “Where’s the other one?”

Sting sighed, looking up at the ceiling before whispering, “With her.” He could feel Gray start to apologize and he shook his head, grabbing Gray’s wrist and pressing a kiss to his palm. “She had so many earrings,” Sting said, closing his eyes and picturing quiet Saturday afternoons playing dress-up in his mom’s room. “A whole box of them, one of those cedar jewelry ones lined with red velvet. It was like a treasure chest.”

He went quiet for a moment, waiting out the quiet ache of grief that welled up in his chest. “Her and my dad were going on a date for their anniversary,” he said after a while. “She always let me help her get ready. I loved to stand in her closet under all the scarves and dresses and spin in circles; it was all so soft and sparkly. She even let me try on her shoes a few times.”

Gray didn’t say anything, just kept running his fingers through Sting’s hair. “I picked out her jewelry for her,” Sting said, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. “I couldn’t decide between the diamond earrings and the green ones, so I gave her one of each and… she looked so pretty.”

Sting wiped at his eyes, sighing when Gray’s thumb brushed across his temple. “Is that when…” Gray trailed off uncertainly.

“Yeah,” Sting said, cuddling up against Gray again and shifting his leg across Gray’s thigh. Frosche meowed indignantly and flicked her tail, then moved closer to Sting until she was curled against his stomach.

“I’m so sorry,” Gray said, kissing Sting’s forehead again and holding him tight.

“I was so angry,” Sting said. He toyed with the button on Gray’s shirt, letting himself dip into the shallow end of the grief that had receded with time. “At them, at Oma and Opa, at myself. Oma says I cut off all my hair with craft scissors a few days after they died but I don’t remember it. I never grew it out again… this is the longest it’s been since then.”

Gray wrapped one of the blond curls around his finger and nudged Sting. “Are you growing it out now?” he asked. “I thought you just kept forgetting to book a haircut.”

“I did,” Sting admitted. “Well, I booked one a few weeks ago, but then Natsu went instead ‘cause he needed to dye his and I just… it got a little long in the back and…”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and flipping open his photos. After a second he found the picture he was looking for and held it up so Gray could see.

“Oh,” Gray said softly, staring down at the picture of a woman with soft blonde curls and bright blue eyes. She was sitting on a dock at the lake, head tipped back as she smiled into the sunset. “You look just like her.”

“Yeah,” Sting said around the mix of bittersweet feelings in his chest. “Everyone said that at their funeral, and it made me so sad and angry, but now…” He let himself smile as Frosche headbutted his chest.

“I think it’s a great way to remember her,” Gray said. “She sounds amazing.”

“She was.” Sting looked back down at his phone and flipped to the next picture. In it, he was three or four, sitting on his mom’s lap and holding a picture book as she read to him. “I wish you could have met her.” He swallowed around the sudden tightness in his throat as the tears returned. “She would have loved you. All of you. She loved everyone, and I just wish she could see how happy I am.”

“She would be so proud of you,” Gray said. “And all the things you’ve said about her – you’re describing yourself, too.” Heat rushed to Sting’s cheeks and he made a sound of protest, pressing his face against Gray’s shoulder. “You’re the kindest person I know,” Gray continued. “And when you talk about the way she loved you, I know exactly what you mean.”

Sting frowned, tipping his head back and gazing at Gray curiously.

“You love the same way,” Gray said, brushing Sting’s hair out of his face. “With your whole self. Unconditionally. Being loved by you is… it’s hard to explain.” He sighed. “Rogue could probably make more sense than me. But when you kiss me, or touch me, it’s like… you’re putting everything into it. You’re there, every time, loving all of me with everything you have.

“Maybe that’s how you remember her,” Gray said gently. “By loving like her. You might not remember what she looks like, but you remember how she loved you, and you love other people the same way.”

A muffled half-sob escaped from Sting and he sniffed, wiping away the tears that were streaking his cheeks. “I love you,” he whispered as Gray wrapped both arms around him and pulled him close.

“And I can feel it every day,” Gray murmured. “We all can. Your mom gave you the best parts of herself, and you give us the best parts of you.”

Sting relaxed completely against Gray, letting himself cry until he felt tired and wrung-out. When he finally pulled away and wiped at his face, the sky outside was dark. Sting heard the sound of the front door opening and all three cats immediately leaped down from the bed and ran to the door, meowing impatiently.

“We’re home!” Natsu called, and Sting could hear him and Rogue kicking off their boots and hanging up their jackets.

“Guess it’s supper time,” Sting said, voice hoarse. Gray helped him sit up, then wiped the tears on his cheeks away and leaned in to kiss him.

“Wanna bake cookies tonight?” he asked.

“Someone say something about cookies?” Natsu said, appearing in the bedroom doorway. “’cause I call dibs on licking the beaters.”

“You always call dibs,” Rogue said, nudging Natsu out of the way as he pulled off his dress shirt and tossed it onto the bed.

“That’s because I’m Sting’s favorite,” Natsu said, sticking his tongue out at Rogue and pushing him toward the bed. Rogue snapped his tie at Natsu, who yelped and ducked out of the way, hopping up behind Sting on the bed and wrapping both arms around his waist. “See, he’s gonna keep me safe.”

“You’re all my favorite,” Sting said, trying to keep his voice steady as he took Natsu’s hand and squeezed it. He looked back over at Gray with a small smile, then reached out and grabbed Rogue’s hand and pulled him onto the bed. “Do we have any plans tomorrow?”

All three of them looked at Gray, who had banned any of them from writing on the calendar after Natsu had used the wrong color marker and Gray had accidentally ended up at his physio appointment. Gray shook his head.

“What’d you have in mind, love?” Rogue asked.

Sting looked up at him. “Could we visit my parents?”

“At Ashland?” Rogue asked, expression softening. Sting nodded – the cemetery was a way out of the city, near the farm where he’d lived as a kid. “Of course,” Rogue said, touching Sting’s earring and giving him a sad smile. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Sting said, leaning back against Gray with a happy sigh. When he closed his eyes, the image of his mom in his mind was still hazy, but it was filled with a gentle warmth that tempered the ache of loss.

If the best way to remember his mom was by loving, he was going to love the three of them with everything he had.

#fairy tail #ftlgbtales #ftlgbtfics #gratsustingue #ot4 #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #sting eucliffe #rogue cheney #light angst #emotional hurt/comfort #grief #prompt #request #anon #my fic

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nautiscarader · 5 years ago

Note

7. scent with Wildehopps

more build-up than actual sex, but that story has been on my mind for some time. I’m not a particular fan of the “red string of fate” trope, but this one seemed like a decent ground for a variation of it.

()(Ao3)(next>>)

Judy first noticed it when she was sitting in her office, filing paperwork. That’s the part of cops’ life movies never focus on - how much filing there is, compared to shooting and saying one-liners. Her ears perked up, though it was her nose that picked up and enticing, savoury smell, that reminded her very much of home and her mother’s kitchen. It didn’t take her long to locate the source: a package of sweets that Nick brought into the precinct.

- You trying to butter us up, fox? - McHorn grumbled at the newest cadet. - Butter you up? Moi? - Nick replied, pointing to McHorn’s belly with one paw, while the other one, pressed against Clawhauser’s face, successfully prevented him from taking all of the cherry cones at once.

When he noticed Judy, he gallantly moved the box towards her, granting her a charming smile. She took one of the freshly baked sweets and let out a soft moan of approval, giving him a thumbs-up. But then her face changed. Though the aroma of the delicacy was certainly pleasant, it was something else that brought her attention, though she couldn’t quite put her paw on it. She took a few more on the road, and while she was nibbling on them throughout her shift, she tried detecting the missing flavour, but up to no avail.

- If you like'em so much, I can be asked on a date, and interrogated for the location of that bakery. - Nick’s voice suddenly interrupted her already stirred thoughts, as he looked at her small desk from over the screen. - If you think it will make your life easier, then you can stop it now. - she countered. - I’m not gonna give you you any head-starts tomorrow, you know. - Even for one last cone?

Nick opened his paw, hiding, as he promised, one last sweet, Judy reluctantly took, as if she was afraid it was drugged. But then, as she moved it to her mouth, she smelled it again, the sweet, but savoury smell, reminding her of salty caramel, she once ate a very fancy dinner. When she took the next bite, the taste was gone, and she was about to as Nick about it, but the fox has just closed the office doors behind him. Judy shrugged, as she knew she will have time to ask him tomorrow.

The second time happened the very next day. Some time ago, Judy was asked to temporarily take cadets through their morning PE classes, as Major Friedkin’s pregnancy forced her to stop straining her body, and she paw-picked Judy as the best candidate. During her stay at the academy she got used to the peculiar, aggressive smell of showers, both before and after classes; she didn’t judge, as she was sweating herself every morning as well. And it was when she was walking alongside the closed entrance to the male showers that she caught a whiff of the same smell.

At first, she thought that one of the guys used a shower gel with the same ingredient, but once she smelled it again, she realised she was wrong. The aroma has changed, yet it evoked the same feeling she remembered from yesterday. She looked around, as she just realised how she must have looked to others, though fortunately, the only other officer was at the far end. She breathed in again, and this time the scent was mixing with the unmistakable musky smell she expected in such a place, though it wasn’t as repulsive and sharp as she might have thought.

She turned around, and she yelped when the door of the lockers corridor nearly hit her in the face, though she managed to jump back just in time.

- Woah, careful, teach’. - Nick spoke, his eyes widened. - Hang on, what were you doing in here…? - Not what you are thinking, Nick - she replied.

Her nose twitched, detecting the pleasant whiff again. If her “shower gel” theory was correct, then it must have been Nick.

- Blueberries? - she asked, throwing a shot in the dark. She knew it was his favourite.

Nick raised his brow.

- Is that a proposition, a new nickname, or a safe word? - Stop it, Nick. - she snorted - Never thought you’d be the one to use one of those fruit-smelling shower products. - Oh, please, Judy. We all know perfectly well how this world works. Girls get the shampoos like “Delicate Raspberry Ensemble” or “Fairy Pineapple Wind” - he spoke enunciating each word - And we, males, get “The Storm of Testosterone” or “The Whirlpool of Death”. That’s how nature works.

Judy laughed, walking alongside the corridor, forgetting for a moment about her curious discovery.

For the next few months, Judy kept finding traces of the mysterious smell, to the point she even went to a spice shop in one of the Zootopia districts, in vain hope maybe they can help her, but the elusive smell kept changing, as if it was deliberately toying with her. And the answer came from the most unexpected of places.

- Oh, how I missed this. - Major Friedkin cheered, sipping a glass of cognac she was given as a present when she returned. - Well, we knew you’ve got the taste. - Judy spoke. - And thank you for taking up my duties, I have already heard the boys hate the mornings, which means you’ve done damn good job.

She replied with a would-be-polite smile, and looked around, finding an argument to leave the conversation she was kinda robbed in.

- Say, where’s-where’s your husband? I think I haven’t congratulated him yet. - Oh, he’s there, showing pictures of our cubs.

Judy followed her paw, and she took a moment to realise that the she was pointing at rather short, chubby brown bear with huge glasses, happily giggling with Clawhauser at his smartphone.

- Oh, right. - I know what you mean. - Friedkin started - How come me and him would ever get together, right? - Actually, that’s not what I- - It’s the scent, I tell you.

Judy’s ears perked up at once, she turned her head at once and even pressed her paw at the polar bear’s massive arm, preventing another drink from delaying her answer.

- Scent? - she asked, standing up on her chair, ignoring how the very unusual pose she was in mus look like - What do you mean? - Well, you know. - she replied jovially - The scent of destiny, tigers from the East came up with this, I think. It’s the smell of your mate, that only you can detect, you know. The one true love, and whatnot. Not real, but I like it as explanation. Certainly beats “I met him online.”

She continued talking, never realising Judy was no longer holding her hostage, and that the bunny was back on her chair, lost in her thoughts, as if she just received some grave news. And then, before she looked up, she already knew who joined Clawhauser and Friedkin’s husband. She took a deep breath, and once again, she was back on the trail leading her up to the red fox laughing on the other side of the room.

- Oh cheese and crackers. - Judy whispered, and grabbed the bottle of cognac, taking a healthy gulp.

She tried to rationalise it over the next day. That it was unlikely, far-fetched, and that they were simply biologically incompatible, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. And Judy would have remained in her state of deep confusion if not for the robbery.

Four police cars surrounded the bank in the cold Tundratown, and Judy, together with Nick went inside. The two split up, trying to cover all sides of the spacious hall, and she signed at the other two teams to do the same. She threaded carefully around the pieces of broken glass from the shoot-out. She looked around, trying to see the position of her colleagues, but from her side, she couldn’t see anything without giving herself away due to the low screens separating the cubicles. With a gun ready in her paws, she was abut to lean from behind one of them, when she heard Nick’s terrified voice.

- Judy! Duck!

Without hesitation, she followed him, and next moment, her ears were filled with deafening noise of the bullet that shot the material above her head. Two more shots followed, the last from the police gun, which ended the harrowing mission.

Though it wasn’t him who shot the robber, and he wasn’t injured, Nick was offered a blanket and a warm cup of tea just like Judy and the hostages, while the medical services worked in the aftermath of the robbery. Judy curled against Nick, smelling the raspberry tea in a plastic cup, taking one calming breath after another, counting her blessings.

- Thank you, Nick. - she spoke softly - I’m gonna mention you in the report. - I’m glad you’ll be the one writing it. - he chuckled - I wouldn’t know where to start… - “Officer Hopps was saved thanks to the keen eye of the brave Officer Wilde, who…” - Judy started mockingly, but was quickly interrupted. - Nose, not eyes. - Huh? - I smelled you. I think. - he took another sip - I just knew you were behind that screen.

For a moment, Judy didn’t hear the commotion around her, as she looked into her partner’s eyes, torn with conflicting emotions that seemed to have been on his mind for some time.

- I-I mean, I’m not sayin’ you smell bad, or anything, it’s just-

Nick corrected himself, but was promptly cut off by Judy’s lips pressed against his, tasting far more than the cheap raspberry tea on them.

With each piece of clothing torn from his body, Judy was closer and closer to the not-so-mysterious smell that was driving her crazy. Now that she knew exactly where it came from, and what it meant, she had no excuse not to utilise their day off, and kept digging, until she finally saw his red fur. Nick’s paws took a much gentler job at removing her clothes, to the point she was outraged that his much bigger claws weren’t turning her naked faster.

- Can’t-can’t you smell it? - she asked, drawing sharp breathes, as she nuzzled against his now-naked chest. - Oh, trust me, Carrots, I can…

He growled, and lifted her off the floor, just to throw her onto her bed, before he dived between her legs, and her small apartment was filled with a carnal, hungry scream. Though she would love the feeling of Nick’s tongue on her pussy, she wanted to smell him once more, and she desperately dragged him up, just so the musk from his chest can fill up her nostrils, and make her body shiver from the enticing, mind-bending aroma.

- Careful, fluff, or you’re gonna take me all of at once. - I wouldn’t mind that.

She looked up at him, saw the confused look on his face that turned into a wide grin as she moved down, trailing his chest with kisses, until her face was at the level of his boxers, and his raging erection. The moment she pulled them down, an aggressive, but captivating smell hit her, but it couldn’t even compare to what happened when she took him in her mouth. The salty, tangy, wild smell now combined with his potent taste exploded inside her, overfilling her senses with every version of the sensations she kept experiencing for the past months. And just when she was ready to bob her head up and down, she felt Nick’s paws on her shoulder and thighs, and she protested when he pulled her from him.

- H-Hey! - she let out a cry of desperation, that quickly turned into a moan of satisfaction when she realised Nick was turning her around. - Sorry, Carrots, but I have a flavour I’ve been dying to taste as well.

Though she couldn’t see his face now, the feeling of his long tongue against her pussy made it up for it, and she let him know about it with another moan that reverberated against his soft skin of his cock, as she took him deeper down her throat. With her lust-driven mind, she didn’t care that this differed radically from what her first time could look like, or that she acted like a nymphomaniac floozy; she only knew she had to smell him again.

And she received far more than she bargained for, when after a few minutes of her tongue-work, Nick cried her name against her overflowing sex, and her mouth was filled with a hefty, thick stream of the most delicious and erotic drink Judy could have imagined, and as if her life depended on it, she made sure that not a single drop of it would escape her lips. She gulped it down, her body shivering with each rope of cum that got into her belly, and only when she drained Nick of his first orgasm, she let a cry herself, giving Nick chance to taste the smell he was craving as well. His tongue lapped against her pussy, diving inside for more and more, and the spasming walls of her sex kept gladly producing more for the thirsty fox that revelled in the aroma his nose was pressed against it.

This time, despite her quivering thighs, Judy turned herself around, and their lips met again, exchanging the wide palette of sweet, salty, bitter and sour tastes they produced for each other. And then they parted, Judy spoke her mind.

- Mark me as yours, fox.

She dreamt nothing more of smelling him on her, not just tonight, but the rest of her life, and with a grin on his face, Nick toppled her to her back and gladly began fulfilling her wish. Time after time, Nick claimed her as his, and though he was hesitant a few times, Judy encouraged him, with a few strong words, or a strong kick of her legs closed behind his back, to paint both her insides and her fur with his spunk. The warm air of her room only helped their scents mix, and by the time they fell asleep, neither of them could differentiate theirs, and the two fell asleep, light-headed from abundance of the new aroma they’ve spent hours producing.

When Judy woke up, the memories of last night began filling her memories, causing her whole body to shudder, as the pleasant muscle pain reminded her of the many climaxes she lived through. She took a deep breath, realising it was once again, the smell that brought her from the land of dreams. She looked to the side, hoping to find her mate, but met only an empty dent in the messy bedsheets. She turned around, and her worries were gone, when she saw him just in his boxers, leaning against the doorway to her kitchen.

Apparently, mating smelled like morning coffee now.

#wildehopps #lemon #zootopia #judy hopps #nick wilde #Anonymous

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bonneyq · 6 years ago

Note

I've seen fanfiction where Levy is jealous of Juvia and Gajeel friendship because it seems those two are close. What do you think Gray would think. Maybe a story where he just ask Juvia and she just laughs

It was weird, to arrive at the Guild and nothave Juvia by his side instantly – Gray swore she could sense him gettingcloser, somehow. He had been away for three weeks and at first he thought shewas out on a mission herself, instead he saw her by the corner of the Guild,drinking and laughing with Gajeel.

The Dragon Slayer must’ve smelt him because helooked Gray’s way, then said something to Juvia, raising his chin towards theIce Mage’s direction. Juvia looked to where Gajeel indicated and she smiled atGray and gave him a wave, but made no move to go to Gray. She returned her gazeto Gajeel and started to talk to him again.

It weirded Gray out.

Fine, Gajeel was her best friend sincebefore Fairy Tail and they went through a lot, still… Gray was… Gray. Juvia didn’t ignore Gray, it was…an universal rule. So yeah, he was weirdedout so much he looked around to see if anything else had changed – were theyattacked while he was gone? Some magic ruled over their actions? Weird potion?

Yet, everything else was completely normal.

Gray cleared his throat and went to the bar,refusing to go to Juvia. That wasn’t their thing. Gray didn’t go after Juvia.It would throw the universe off balance. Sure, he had been the one to hug herfirst, kiss her first but only because shewas always next to him and Juvia knew he needed to be the one to do it becauseof his issues, but that was a problem for another time.

Ten minutes in and Juvia still hadn’t approachedhim.

Gray talked to some of his friends on the wayto a table, sat with the rest of his team and couldn’t explain why his gazekept returning to where Juvia and Gajeel were still drinking and laughing, talkinglow, leaning over the table so no one listened, he supposed.

Argh, it was so weird.

Juvia was his… fami- fri- gir- person of interest and she wasn’t givinghim the light of the day-

-and now he sounded like a five-year-old who wouldn’tshare his toys.

Great. Just awesome.

“Hey, idiot, what’s with the face?” Natsu askedfrom across the table, after taking a sip of his beer. “I mean, it’s alwaysbeen ugly, but now you are all frowny. Like before all the shit that went down.”

“Shut up.” Gray groaned. “I’m tired, that’sall. I’m just having this beer and heading out.”

“Me too. I miss my bed.” Lucy complained. “Iknow it’s part of the job but sleeping on the floor, even if it’s on sleepingbags, is not comfortable.”

“I want to have some fish with Charle.” Happysaid.

“I want a shower.” Natsu shrugged.

“You needone.” Gray couldn’t miss the opportunity. “You smell as if you were dead andpeople forgot to bury you.”

Natsu was about to argue but frowned andsmelled his armpit before making a face. “Can’t even argue with that. Lucy, I’mtaking a bath at your apartment because you have all the bubbly good-smelling stuffand I want the bubbles.”

Lucy snorted. “Good, because you are going nowhere near the bed smelling like that.”

Gray turned off his mind for a while, drinkinghis beer and he refused, at that point, to look where his gir- (he didn’t likelabels!) his Juvia, was.

Yeap, he was five-years-old again and he wantedto leave before throwing a tantrum because apparently, that was a possibilitynow.

“I’m heading out.” Gray grabbed his backpackand got up. “See you guys in a couple of days, I think tomorrow I’ll just sleepin and relax.”

“Sure.”

“Have a nice rest!”

Gray didn’t look around before leaving and justas he reached the door, he felt a soft hand slip into his, the smell of a veryspecific floral shampoo and a head resting on her shoulders.

His stupid heart skipped a beat and his stomachfilled with stupid butterflies.

Stupid-ass emotions and physical reactions – hesqueezed her hand without even realize it.

“You thought you could leave Juvia behind afterwe spent weeks apart?” The blunetteasked and Gray tried to play it cool, as if everything was normal.

“Well, you looked too cozy with Gajeel for meto interrupt.” Well, shit, he sounded jealous. Which he wasn’t, of course, butsounded like it.

Juvia didn’t even realize his slip up (shethought Gray wasn’t capable of being jealous of her, for some reason) and justlaughed, walking with him, hands still twined and he got used to it by then.

“We were sharing some old Phantom stories.” Shegiggled. “Oh, we were bad. Well, we were pretty badass, but we were so badsometimes.”

“And that’s funny?” Gray raised his eyebrows.

Juvia shrugged. “It’s our history. We regretmost of the bad things we did, but some of it was good and we shouldn’t forgetit just because some was bad. We weren’t evil, just… misguided.”

“That’s true.” Gray agreed, feeling better,especially that now they were definitely going to his apartment – she missedthe turn to go to Fairy Hills. “Tell me one.”

Juvia hummed as she thought it over. “We talkedabout how Gajeel-kun helped Juvia when her ex dumped her. He wanted to killhim.” She chuckled. “Juvia had dibs, of course, but Gajeel-kun ended up helpinganother way.”

Gray stopped on his tracks, Juvia stopping too,and then a thought hit him: Were Juvia and Gajeel ever… together? He never asked. Maybe they were. They were pretty closeto the present day – hell, Juvia was the godmother of Gajeel’s daughter.

“Juvia…” Gray started and she hummed to let himknow she was listening. “Have you and Gajeel ever…”

She frowned, waiting. “Yes?”

“You know?” From her confused face, she didn’t know. “Got together.”

“We were together just a few minutes ago.”Juvia was clearly confused.

Gray grew frustrated because really? Juvia wasso forward and yet so freaking innocent.“No, I meant… together. Hooked up or whatever.”

Whatever it was Juvia expected to hear, it wasn’tthat. “Excuse me?” Juvia asked andthen started to laugh. “What the hell, Gray-sama?” She laughed harder. “J-Juviaand Gaje-el-kun?” Gray’s face was a deep shade of red because Juvia didn’tlaugh at him. Ever.

What the fuck was wrong with the universetoday?

“Forget I asked.” Gray muttered and started towalk again, but Juvia grabbed his wrist, controlling her laughter.

“Sorry, Gray-sama. Juvia never thought youwould thought that.” She was still giggling. “When she says Gajeel-kun helped her another way, she meant he bought somestuff he thought women needed when going through a break-up. Chocolate, a bunnybear, tissues, there were even tampons inside the bag he handed Juvia.” Shechuckled. “It was sweet because he was this badass looking guy and can youimagine him buying that stuff back then?”

Gray had to smirk. “No.”

“That’s pretty much when we became bestfriends.”

“Oh.”

“Nothing ever happened. We are good beingfriends but we’d probably murder each other if we were in a relationship.” She stoppedin front of him and put her arms around his shoulders. “As glad as Juvia isthat you got the weirdest green-eyed monster ever, but she’s afraid you haven’tproperly greeted her after weeks of beingaway.”

Gray rolled his eyes just for effect and hisreputation, of course, but gave her a peck on the lips. Juvia was… his.Sometimes he needed to show her some affection (not that he minded at all.”

She smiled throughout the kiss and whispered. “IsJuvia welcomed in your apartment today?”

“Always.” He told her. “Come on, let’s getgoing. I told Natsu he stank but I’m not too far behind, I need to take ashower and rest.”

“Mind if Juvia helps you with that shower?”

Gray was horrified. “Juvia, we are in themiddle of the street! People can hear us!” People could. People didn’t care.

Juvia laughed and they started their way againand just like that, the universe was right again.

AN: I hope it was alright!

#ask #gruvia #gruvia drabble #gruvia fanfiction #gajuvia brotp #little bit of nalu #Anonymous

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spideyspence · 6 years ago

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a year has gone by (i’m waiting) ; peter parker

hi everyone im back. it’s been proofread (a big thanks to @birthday-joc). i realised i should probably mention what song inspired this fic and it’s paper hearts by the vamps. it’s a very cute song and i love it so much. anyway, this is one is cute and i hope y’all enjoy. love you guys (and thank you again for 100 followers)

When Y/N found out about Peter being Spiderman, it sent her into a bit of a crazy headspace. Her boyfriend was one of the many humans who had been turned to dust. He had gone to space. He put his life at risk every day to protect the citizens of New York and the whole world.

There was no doubt that she loved him. She had so much respect for him and his willingness to help others. Every time he went out in that Spiderman suit, her anxiety levels were high until he either stopped by hers and said good night or sent her a text to say that he was safe.

She had not removed him from her life, she could never do that. She had been friends with him since middle school and he was the closest friend she had. Y/N had Michelle and Ned, but Peter was always there for her.

That was why when she broke up with Peter, she could feel her heart-breaking and seeing Peter’s face fall like that, is something that she wishes that she could forget.

Y/N walks down the hallway at Midtown High School and it’s one of those days where she wishes she could shrink. She wants to crawl into her bed in her pyjamas and just binge watch a TV show on Netflix that you don’t need to pay too much attention to. When she was with Peter, days like this she would have texted him in the morning asking him to bring in one of his hoodies, too big for her and it would also smell like him. It settled her anxiety and allowed her to focus on her work a bit better. The jumper helped ground her when Peter wasn’t there.

Now she feels alone walking this hallway. It’s been almost a year since she broke up with Peter but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less. She told Peter that she needed space because she had become dependent on him to the point where she needed to build herself back up and not have to rely on anyone when concerning her mental health. In that past year, the love she felt for Peter has never changed nor faltered. She misses him, that was all she knew in that time and she wanted to return to his arms.

Peter had a spare period before lunch. He just had a chemistry test, so he did not have new material to study that day and he had left his maths textbook at home. He hadn’t seen Y/N by that point. He missed her, even more than she missed him. He was never too good with words. When he told Y/N that he loved her for the first time, his words had just moulded into one. Somehow, she knew what he was saying, and she replied with an ‘I love you too,’ and a kiss on his lips.

They never became sick of one another’s presence. Peter was never annoyed when he woke up with Y/N’s hair in his mouth because it let him know that what they had was real, and it was not just a figure of his imagination. They had watched many movies together that every time they watched a movie again, they knew when the other was going to laugh. Whether it was going to be a small chuckle or a ‘fall back on the bed’ kind of laugh. When Peter closed his eyes, he could still picture Y/N’s face in the light of the fairy lights she had wrapped around her headboard when it was the only thing illuminating her room.

The feeling he had when he was with her was what he missed.

They still caught up with one another. Their group was Ned, Michelle, Peter and Y/N. They could not go their separate ways because they had been through a lot together. How the three of them kept themselves strong when Peter had died was what let them know that they were not just going to be ‘high school friends’, they were going to be friends for much longer.

Peter sat in the library, staring at his notebook in from of him with a pen in hand. He wanted to write a letter or even just a note to Y/N, but he had no idea what to say. That he missed her? That he still loved her? Those were both true, but he still didn’t know what to write. So, he didn’t think. He touched the pen to the paper and just wrote.

Fifteen minutes later, he gave up. Peter re-read his emotions that he had put on paper. They sounded too sappy and he had come to the conclusion that no matter what he wrote, it didn’t matter because Y/N wasn’t going to read it anyway.

Peter sat near the bin in the library, so he didn’t bother getting out of his seat. He attempted to throw it into the bin a few metres away. He didn’t even turn around to make sure that the crumbled paper landed in the bin, nor if anyone was even behind him.

Y/N couldn’t concentrate in class. Thoughts running through her mind because she felt unsettled that day. She was in her maths class and they were studying for an upcoming test but every single noise she heard was heightened for her, so she asked the teacher if she could go study in the library instead. Y/N was a good student, so the teacher didn’t have an issue, wrote her a note and she was on her way with her books to the library.

In order to focus and calm down, she plugged in her headphones as she walked to the library and hit shuffle, just to block out one of her sharpened senses. Since she was focused on making her way to the desk and wasn’t focusing what was around her, she didn’t notice a brown-haired boy tossing a crushed-up piece of paper her way.

As the paper hit her, it startled her, but she didn’t squeal. She placed her books at her table and looked around to see what idiot decided to throw paper at her and whether they had the guts to own up. She glanced at where she was standing and the table next to there.

That’s when she saw him.

She unfolded the paper and started to read.

‘I wish I could put it into words how much I miss you. I know you’ve studied Shakespeare for school, so put some really nice quote of his in here. I really do miss you and I still love you. It hurts to see you wander down the halls alone sometimes. I know that before everything, I would have had my arm around your shoulders. I know that on days like today when your anxiety is high, you would be wearing my jumper. It’s not the dates I miss or the nights we spent watching movies and staying at each other’s place, it’s the look in your eyes you once gave me. Whenever you look at me, I search for it, like a lost puppy trying to find their owner. Sometimes I can see a glimmer in them, but I still look away because it isn’t like it was before.

I miss using your shampoo and conditioner. My hair was always so soft and lately, it hasn’t been looking it’s best due to the stress of school, Tony being on edge about everything and me missing you just so fucking much. I would say ‘I don’t know how I’ve survived this past year without us being as close as we used to’, but that would be a lie. I couldn’t care less about myself right now. I know that’s shitty and I should be caring about myself, but I truly feel happy and myself when I’m with you. I know it’s bad to rely on others for your mental health and feeling happy, but I can’t help it. Whenever you smile, no matter how big or how small it always creates this light and happiness for everyone in the room. Your happiness is contagious.

I miss you Y/N, I really do.’

‘So,’ Y/N says as she sits down next to Peter with a smile on her face.

‘You miss me huh?’

Peter looks over to you, looks back down and smiles at his notebook.

‘Yeah of course. Do you miss me at all?’ Peter asks, nervous.

‘I miss being happy and my happiness was with you. So yes, I miss you and I always will.’

The bell rings and Y/N walks back over to get her maths books and when she turns around, she sees Peter with his hand out, there for her to hold if she wishes to.

Y/N sits next to Peter at the lunch table, closer to him then she has been for too long. She doesn’t have his jumper on, because it’s no longer one of those days. The rest of the group at the table can tell what’s just happened.

‘Ned, cough it up.’ Michelle says to the other boy.

‘Cough what up?’ Ned asks, praying that Michelle will let it go.

‘You owe me $5. I told you they were gonna get back together this week.’

Y/N chuckles and she rests her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder.

She’s back to being happier, both of them are.

Happier and in love.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker #peter parker fanfic #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #spiderman #marvel imagine

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fatalelity · 6 years ago

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DEAREST ADDISON, #2: 2 JULY

I got mad at you today, Addie. I’m so sorry. I know you’ve heard it a million times today, but it only felt right to put it to paper. Maybe it’s cathartic for me to know that you’ll be seeing this again some day, and penning it all out could metastasize into some form of sincerity I don’t think I’ve given enough of today. You were helping me and I got mad. I was out of line, I couldn’t control myself. I’m so sorry. This whole time, all I’m wondering is how I should break to you that, you deserve so much better than me.

I think it’s the Huntingtons, I don’t know where it ends and I begin. It may be eating it’s way to my dopamine and seratonin receptors, but at least I’ve got my memory still. At least it still gives me time with you, and every year we’ve had before this. It’s a gift and a privilege to have you with me, so insistently by my side, for the better half of a decade. I hope no one ever makes you feel otherwise. You’ve given me your whole world, I hope someone else offers theirs to you too. I love you, no matter what the disease tells me. Nothing’s changed since the last letter.

Do you remember the time you pissed me off royally? I know there’s been more than a couple incidents, but I’m thinking of the time before we were anything, when you called me out for sleeping around? This isn’t about the fight, it’s not anything worth mentioning. What is worth putting to paper is the fact that you never left my mind. Not even when I was so determined to forget everything we had before that moment. I couldn’t stop thinking about you then, and you still plague my damn mind now Addison Montgomery.

I can’t imagine how it’d feel like when the disease takes you from my mind, Addie. It’d be like unlearning how to ride a bike. Loving you is so incredibly easy. Your heart is big as your eyes are blue. I don’t know if I have the words to describe the way you make my chest feel when you run your fingers in my hair, when I hear your heartbeat as I’m pressed to your chest. The only word that comes to mind is Safe.

That night you came over, and you didn’t pry. You let me cry, you held me in your arms, you soothed me, and you let me use you like you deserved it. But you didn’t, and I shouldn’t have done that. I needed something to take my mind of Jeremy, and you shouldn’t have been in the line of fire. Still, it worked. It’s awful, but it worked. To have you back in my life like that was never my intention.

Promise me, you’ll never do that again, with anyone else. No one deserves to be treated like how I treated you. I’m sorry. I should have said something when I heard you apologize. I shouldn’t have stayed quiet. I knew you felt guilty, I knew that you did all of that just to give me solace because you didn’t know how yet to apologize.

I’m sorry that we had to experience that. You deserve someone who can care for you like you do with me. I hope you find someone that does. Leave their ass if they don’t. You’ve granted me with so much happiness in this life that I regret I may only leave you with pain. I’m still going to try though, to make it up to you, see you smile. Keep smiling, Addie, it does miracles for me, maybe it would too for you.

I love you so much. I can’t wait to hold you tonight, when you’re back from delivering the IVF quintuplets like the damn neonatal rockstar you are. See you in the next letter.

Forever yours, 13; Remy Hadley

there is something deeply comforting with her running along the edges of an envelope she had already torn apart from the first night she discovered the series. perhaps, it was a reminder that their time together was finite and that even if she knew there was only so little bargaining power… that every moment much like their existence would be immortalized. on rainy days like this, she has the tendency to ruminate, to reminisce, to ponder these thoughts that cross her mind. it was the anniversary of mark sloan’s death : an untimely plane crash that took away his life. he was her best friend. he was there for her when her husband couldn’t’ve been there because he was absent. oh, how she had cried so much the night they took him off life-support. and yet, in moments like this when she was missing remy hadley, she has truly, never felt more alone than she does now.

comfort comes in the form of watching the raindrops pitter-patter against the windows whilst she wraps herself in her favourite blanket. sometimes, she feels as if she could still remember the lingering fragrance of her shampoo that has etched into the seams of the fabric. when she casts a vacant gaze outside of the window, she remembers the night they fought. it should’ve been thunderous, stormy, and tumultuous much like the metaphorical hurricane that came in and swept her off her feet, that destroyed and rummaged the contents of her apartment through furious pulls and pushes.

how what seemed to be catastrophic at the time only appears to be a speckle in the grand scheme of events. she still remembers the IVF quintuplets she delivered. remembering how the mother was filled with so much joy and ecstasy. in that moment, she knew, if she could she would’ve wanted a life time with her. after all, it isn’t about perfection – she had long learned that perfection doesn’t exist in her dictionary. derek was perfect. and yet, perhaps, her expectations for him strained and destroyed what little of a fairy tale she seemed to have wanted from him.

but remy? she was far from perfect. but remy cared and that was all that she could’ve asked for.

and at the end of the day all she asked for was someone to come home to. remy was her home. remy was her sanctuary. the sound of her heartbeat provided comfort, the softness of her hair was the warmth associated with it – jasmines, honey, and the faint scent of sanitizer. certainly, addison would’ve been in tears by the time she was halfway through reading.

yet, it felt as if she couldn’t cry anymore. as if her tear ducts sealed itself. as if she ran out of tears to cry. there are no more tears. only the blurry eyes damaged by what seems to be strain, by excessive stress, by restlessness. at the very least, she shouldn’t cry anymore. but it doesn’t stop the tightening in her chest, the breathlessness that she experiences.

if she immerses herself enough, she could even hear her voice. her vacant fingers tug onto the blanket that envelops her form tighter, as if to mimic the familiar embrace she found home in. she misses her. she misses her even more when she remembers her candour, remembers her kindness. but with one deep exhale, she folds the letter and returns it to where it belongs because surely, if she proceeds any further she will cry. her fingers will rub excessively ; her eyes will strain excessively, and she will need to fix it through other means.

she can’t cry. she can’t cry. she shouldn’t cry.

yet the harder she resists, the harder it is for her to commit.

she tries to tame the stray tear that gather at the brim of her eye. she clenches her eyes shut, as if that would rid it of its existence. yet, with each attempt to resist the fuller her the brim of her eyes become then… a streak traces down her cheeks. then, another drips onto the fabric… and before she could stop, her eyes are crying like the rush of a waterfall : endlessly, and tirelessly.

she misses her. she misses her. she really fucking miss HER.

but she knows, she could never come back. she knows that with each day that passes, the sound of remy’s voice would only grow fainter and fainter until she forgets how she sounds. loving her was second nature. loving her was like breathing oxygen. she didn’t need to think twice about it. she didn’t need to pretend, to smile, or to feign interest in her. it came to her naturally.

but deprived of her supply, she could barely function. she hadn’t picked up a blade in what seems to feel like months. because it is lonely days like this that she wonders: how in the hell is she supposed to live without her? because it is on days like this that she truly remembers how alone she is and that she would trade all of her yesterdays for another tomorrow with her. how she would cut off ten years of her life if it means remy hadley would be here with her.

how selfishly she wished that it was the other way around. how she didn’t want to die alone. how she wished it was remy holding her hands as she died and not the way how the sickening fate of her loved one had transpired.

she gasps for air, her chest tightens as if she could become tachycardic, as if her heart would burst and fail any moment. thus, she clutches herself tightly, as if swaddling herself with remy’s presence. as if closing her eyes would bring her back. as if, if she try hard enough she could delude herself to hear her voice in the back of her mind. as if, if she fantasizes and convinces herself that the fantasies are real that remy would miraculously resurrect from the grave : healthy, thriving, sane, and alive.

but addison montgomery is a doctor.

and doctors are painfully aware that the dead can’t come back.

keep smiling, she tells her. yet, she tries. she tries to feign a smile despite the fact that no one is around to witness. she smiles despite the fact that she doesn’t feel like she could. because if she does believe in a deity that she so fervently denied the existence of, because if she does believe in spirits and connections then… at the very least, she could try to do it for her.

because that’s what remy would want.

even if it is difficult. she has to carry on. because addison still has to carry on living even in a world without remy hadley. even if she is alone. even if there are days where she couldn’t muster the energy to leave her bed. she has to.

#prxdigaldaughter #keepsakes.#grief /#death /#too sad to format and icon press f to pay respect #submission #tfw you've been writing so much you don't know how to end so here's to a shitty end haha #* 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 : drabbles #* 𝐑𝐄𝐋 : i wish we had more time ― addison & remy

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reystars · 7 years ago

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I think if it came down to it, Lucy would erase Rittenhouse from history, even knowing what it would cost her. And then I was thinking about it. What, exactly, would it cost her?

She’d step out of the Lifeboat to an empty bunker. One that’s never been used, one that’s never needed to be.

When Mason Industries finally turns up to retrieve it, Mason slaps Rufus on the back to tell him good job. Jiya is there too, an engagement ring on her finger. Agent Christopher, the assigned government detail for all things Time Travel related, nods at Wyatt. “Good work, Logan. Now get home to your wife.”

Then they all turn, staring at Lucy. A stranger to Denise, the woman who became a mother figure to her. A stranger to Jiya, who she spent late nights with, talking about anything they could think about and binge watching crappy reality TV shows. A stranger to Mason, who helped teach her how to cook and always provided words of support when she needed them.

Flynn is nowhere to be seen.

After the situation being explained to her, Agent Christopher is weary, but she helps build an identity for the woman who never existed. Lucy hesitates to use the last name Preston. She no longer has any connection to that family--her family. But it’s the only name she’s got, so she keeps it, and they set her up with a little apartment and a job offer.

When Wyatt and Rufus aren’t around, she finally asks about him.

“Garcia Flynn?” Agent Christopher says. “I’ve never heard of him.”

Mason shakes his head. Neither has he. But Christopher can’t help but feel sympathetic as she looks at Lucy’s haunted, sad face. She does her a favor, looks up his phone number, gives her his address. She doesn’t ask what Lucy is going to do with it, and Lucy is glad.

Lucy sits in the car outside the large, spacious house. It has a meticulously curated front lawn and an idyllic white picket fence. The sun is setting and she doesn’t think anyone is home, but she’s waiting.

She’s about to pull away, feeling all the courage sucked out of her, when a sedan pulls into the driveway. She freezes, her hand stretching for her keys, and watches.

First, a woman climbs out of the passenger’s seat. She’s beautiful, long brown hair, laughing at something. She slides open the back door of the sedan and a little girl jumps out. She’s wearing a tutu and ballet slippers, her dark hair slipping out of her bun chaotically, and she has a turtle shell backpack on her back.

And then Lucy sees Flynn.

He climbs out of the driver’s side, shutting the door behind him. The little girl runs around the sedan, jumping on his back with surprising speed and mobility. He turns, laughing, a softness in his eyes Lucy has never seen before. He hoists the little girl up on his back and looks up, directly across the street, making eye contact with the stranger sitting in the car. Lucy feels frozen. Numb. She knows she should speed off, but Flynn is already walking toward her, his daughter still riding on his back.

Not knowing what else to do, Lucy rolls her window down as he approaches.

“Is everything alright?” Flynn asks, his face full of concern. Iris peeks up over his shoulder at her.

“Um, yes, I’m sorry, I’m just. I’m lost, I think. My phone died.”

Flynn nods sympathetically.

“Do you want to come inside?” he says. “My wife Lorena would be happy to fix something up for you. We can get your phone charged.”

“I’m seven!” Iris informs her from Flynn’s back.

Lucy forces herself to smile.

“No it’s okay, really, I think I’ll just uh, head back to the main road. I’m sure I can find it.”

Flynn sets Iris down on the ground, taking her hand. She’s staring at Lucy curiously. When she smiles, she’s missing her front teeth. Stepping up to the car, she leans against it.

“The tooth fairy gave me money from Cro-ay-shuh for my teeth! How cool is that?!” she says. Flynn chuckles, putting a hand on Iris’ shoulder.

“That’s enough, bumblebee,” he says affectionately, ruffling her hair. Lucy can hear Lorena calling for Iris in the distance. She darts back to the house, making sound effects with her mouth as she goes.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” Flynn asks once more. Turning the car on, Lucy forces another smile.

“It’s really okay, thank you.”

Flynn hesitates, but nods. Lucy finally pulls away from the house and when she glances in the rearview mirror of the car, she sees Flynn’s outline walking away, his back to her. Back to his family, his wife and daughter. Lucy can’t get Iris’ smile, so carefree, out of her head.

She drives for a while. She doesn’t know where she’s going until she finds herself parked in front of her mother’s old house. She hasn’t looked her up yet. Maybe she’s afraid of what she’ll find. But despite everything, she has to know. Before she has a chance to talk herself out of it, she’s knocking on the door.

Amy answers, and Lucy can’t breathe for a moment.

“Hi?” Amy says. “Can I help you?”

Lucy clears her throat, trying to blink away the tears. She looks exactly the same as she remembered, but all the details are sharper now. The color of her eyes, her blonde hair, they’re details that had started to fade. How could she ever forget? All she wants to do is hug her sister, breathe in the berry scented shampoo, and have her tell Lucy everything is going to be okay.

“Does Carol live here?” Lucy asks instead.

“She passed away about three years ago,” Amy says. There’s lingering sadness in her tone, but it’s not fresh. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

It hurts so suddenly, so completely, all at once that Lucy has to take a step back.

“No one. It’s okay. Have a nice day.”

Lucy turns around before her face completely gives her away and she doesn’t see Amy shake her head in confusion, doesn’t even hear her shut the door. Numb, her feet somehow carry her to her car. Lucy is about to turn the key in the ignition when the tears hit. She’s barely able to get a breathe in between choking sobs, leaning her head against the steering wheel.

How was it possible to have gotten everything back and be left with nothing at all?

Then she hears a knock against the glass. Just two knuckles, rapping against the window. She lifts her head up to see Amy standing outside the driver’s side of the car.

Lucy knows she must look like a disaster, and Lucy wipes her face and snotty nose with the back of her sweater sleeve, rolling down the window.

“Do you uh, want to come inside?” Amy asks.

Lucy hesitates. She doesn’t know if she can handle seeing all the evidence of a life that she never existed in. But Amy is looking at her, somehow, in the way she’s always looked at her, and she’s the only person in the entire universe that she wants to talk to. That she’s wanted to talk to every single day since she dissappeared. So Lucy nods. She climbs out of the car.

She’ll find a way to start over. Somehow.

#timeless #timeless ff #lucy preston #amy preston #garcy #I made myself sad with this lmao

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baronessblixen · 7 years ago

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Please write a prompt about the mulder family being fluffy and cute in the unremarkable house! I need some fluff in my life.

So this got long... there’s no real plot. It’s the Mulder family in the UH. That’s about it. Tagging @today-in-fic

Life with a two year old might be themost difficult, infuriating challenge Mulder has ever faced. And he's facingher now, the tiny whirlwind, their biggest surprise; his and Scully's. Shegrins up at him showing him a few baby teeth. Making him forget that heshould be angry with her.

"Do not move." Mulder says.He is serious. So very serious. His daughter, covered in Scully's expensivebody lotion from head to toe, giggles and doesn't believe his words or hisvoice. She might only be two, but she knows he's the pushover. She runs asticky hand over her face and makes a surprised noise. Mulder decides this ishis moment; he lunges forward, ready to pick up the little girl and carry herinto the bathroom. Right before he can grab her, she turns to him and startsrunning away.

She is laughing as her tiny feet clompover the old wooden floors in their house. Mulder follows her and feels out ofbreath. She's two years old, he reminds himself, and he's panting. Before shecan enter his and Scully's bedroom, he catches her. She squeals as he lifts herup.

"No more running away, younglady." She giggles and hides her face against his shoulder. So much forhis clean shirt.

"Oh oh, daddy."

"What is it,Katie?" He stops halfway to the bathroom and searches her face. The bodylotion is everywhere on her face, her clothes and in her hair. She smells likea field of strawberries. Katie looks up at him and her bottom lip starts toquiver. Her eyes fill with tears and Mulder wonders if he's been too harsh, if heshould have handled this differently. But before he can take any of it back,before he can say anything at all, his daughter opens her mouth and throws upon him.

"Oh oh."She says and giggles once. Then, as if someone flips a switch, her face fallsand she stars wailing. Mulder wants to join in, but he doesn't. He's the adulthere. So instead he holds her closer in spite of the body lotion, in spite ofthe spit up on his shoulder. He carries her into the bathroom and sets herdown. He keeps one arm around the crying toddler as he uses the other one tolean over the bathtub to let water in.

"It's all right,Katie baby." He whispers into her body lotion caked hair and ends up witha dab of it on his nose. Katie sees it and starts giggling. She touches hisnose and glances at her finger for a moment before she offers it to Mulder.

"Yummy."She says and Mulder understands; she's not only slathered herself with hermother's favorite lotion, she's also had a taste of it.

"Katie, wetalked about this. Mommy's body lotion isn't food. It isn't yummy." Katiepouts and brings her finger to her mouth. Mulder stops her just in time.

"Spawbebby."

"It's not reallystrawberry, honey. It's just so it smells nice. It makes mommy smell nice,doesn't it?" His daughter nods. Mulder turns off the water and tests thetemperature. He peels Katie out of her clothes and considers just throwing themaway. She will grow out of them soon anyway. She is growing like a weed. Or aflower, he thinks as he carefully puts her in the tub. She splashes the watersoaking Mulder's shirt. But that's ruined anyway. Another splash hits him inthe face and Katie squeals.

"We need to watchthe lotion off, kiddo."

"Smellnice." She repeats his words and he nods as he reaches for the babyshampoo. Scully picked it because it smells like strawberries. Their daughter'sfavorite smell, taste and color. He smiles as the the familiar scent hits hisnose. Katie sighs, sits still for once. It occurs to Mulder that he probablyshould have called work. He's going to be so late. His new boss isn't likeSkinner, rolling his eyes, but nodding along. Luckily he isn't like Kersheither, dismissing his every move. But he's ambitious. He wants things done.And right away. Mulder being late – again – won't look good. As if on cue, hiscell phone buzzes in his pants. He keeps his eyes on Katie while he takes itout of his pocket.

"Mulder."

"Hi, it'sme."

"Scully?"

"Mommy, mommy,mommy." Katie chants from the bathtub.

"Are you still athome? Is that Katie?"

"Yes and yes. Wehad a little incident."

"Do I want toknow?"

"No." Hethinks of her body lotion. She loves that body lotion. He doesn't understandhow it's different than any other except that it smells fruity and fresh.Better not mention that she needs to buy a new tube. Again. "Why are youcalling? Is everything all right?" Some habits die hard and this particularone never will. While partners in everything that matters, they no longer worktogether. Scully's decision to leave the FBI for good came before Katie,although not by much. He misses her there, sometimes. Walking the halls thathaven't changed in the last 30 years. All that's changed are the pictures onthe wall. He slows every time he passes Skinner. That won't change either, notas long as he works there.

"I wasn't feelingwell, so they sent me home again." Mulder puts a hand on Katie's shoulder.His daughter turns to look at him, blinking slowly.

"You'resick?" The words catch in his throat. His eyes are on Katie, who isgrinning at him, oblivious to his discomfort, his fear. Scully is a healthywoman. She gets regular check-ups and there's never been any indication thather cancer might return. That she's sick in any way or form. But. He knows howquickly life can turn around and hit you in the face.

"Mulder,"she takes a deep breath, chuckles, "I'm fine. It was the chicken."

"Chicken?"Katie's mouth opens as if she has to say something about chicken as well.

"It tasted funnylast night, but I thought it was still edible. I was wrong. I called to ask youif Katie showed any symptoms this morning, but considering you're in thebathroom with her, I think I've got my answer."

"It was thechicken and not the…" He trails off.

"Not the what?Mulder?"

"Doesn't matter,Scully. Just get yourself home. I guess I'll call in sick."

"But you're notsick."

"Scully." Hewhines and Katie laughs at him. He makes a funny face and she splashes morewater on him. He is never going to make it to work anyway. "I can't go towork when my family is home sick." Scully remains quiet; he is playinghooky and they both know it.

"Fine," shesays and Mulder silently cheers, holding his hand up so that Katie can give hima baby high five, "I'll be home soon."

"All rightkiddo," Mulder says to Katie, "we've got to make you look presentableagain."

After her bath, Mulderdresses Katie in her favorite pajamas. They were a gift from Jackson. The garmentis adorned with tiny foxes in a variety of colors. Pink, blue, green, orangeand red. 'It's so unrealistic', he mumbled to Scully when Jackson handed it tohis baby sister and she squealed in delight each time she pointed to a new fox.Mulder runs his hand through the fine strands of auburn hair trying to tamethem as best as he can. They curl at the end and Katie starts fidgeting. Hereyes are pleading with him to be done so she can wander off and play. He letsher and watches her sprint into the living room. He calls work, callskindergarten and sighs deeply. A regular Tuesday with a two year old. What alife.

Mulder passesJackson's room and sees that the door is ajar. He moves to close it when heglimpses inside and sees his son sprawled on his bed. Apparently he's not theonly one playing hooky today. Mulder steps inside and gently touches the youngman's shoulder. He hears a grumble, but Jackson doesn't wake up. Mulder can'thelp but grin. Their son moved in shortly after Katie was born. At first underthe disguise of wanting to be close to his new sister. Neither Mulder norScully complained. For the first time in forever their family was complete,their life more of a fairy tale than a nightmare.

"Hey, time to getup." Jackson isn't one to oversleep; he is very much like Scully in thatrespect. He takes his education seriously, is determined to follow his mother'sfootsteps and study medicine. Not today, though, as it seems.

"Five moreminutes?"

"Did you eat thechicken too?" Mulder asks sitting at the edge of the bed. Jackson might bean adult, but to him and Scully he's just their son, their boy. There are somany things they never got to experience with him. He is thankful for everymoment he is here in their house, in their lives.

"Chicken?"Jackson turns around and blinks at Mulder through tired eyes. "Whatchicken?"

"Your mother andKatie had bad chicken. They're both sick."

"Hm, no. I didn'thave the chicken," he yawns and stretches, "What time is it?"

"Shortly after 9am."

"Fuck."

"Jackson…"

"Katie isn't evenin the room." He rolls his eyes, runs his fingers through his hair makingit stick up even worse. "Sorry." He adds after a moment. "Wait,why are you still home?"

"Playing hookytoday." No use in lying to his son.

"I heard Dana throwup this morning and got up to check on her," Jackson says, "I toldher not to go to work, but she said she was fine." Mulder nods, smiles athis son. "I went back to bed and I guess I forgot to set my alarm. I'mgoing to miss my lecture." Jackson glances at him, seems to wait for himto say something. Mulder knows he shouldn't. But it's one lecture, it's oneday. Their son is smart; too smart even.

"You don't needmy permission to stay home."

"I knowthat." Another eye roll. "Do you think Dana would…"

"I know for afact that even Dana Scully has played hooky once or twice in her life. There'sa place for you on the family couch today in case you think you might havecaught the chicken bug too." Mulder winks at his son before he leaves tocheck up on Katie in the living room.

"Mommy, mommy,mommy." He says to him when she sees him and Mulder is surprised thatScully is there already, too, on the floor with their daughter. He crouchesdown, his knees protesting, and tilts his head.

"Hey you."

"Heyyourself." Scully says with a small smile.

"Is it safe tokiss you?" Mulder asks.

"Kiss, kiss,kiss!" Katie cheers him on, clapping her hands. Scully peppers theirdaughter's head with kisses and the girl laughs loudly and kicks her legs.

"You smell likestrawberries, baby." Scully throws him a look; she knows.

"I was gettingdressed," he defends himself, "I don't know how she found that tube,Scully. I'll buy you a new one." She nods and runs her fingers through thegirl's hair. "I thought that's why she was sick. I don't know how much sheate of it. Maybe you should get one that tastes like broccoli, Scully." Jacksonchooses that moment to join them.

"Jack, Jack,Jack!" Katie holds up her arms and her big brother picks her up and whirlsher through the air. Mulder just hopes she won't be sick again.

"Why are you home?"Scully asks and Jackson looks at Mulder, then back at his mother.

"I uhm… I had thechicken?"

"But only Katieand I-" She trails off, makes the connection, "Looks like we've allgot a bad case of the chicken." She motions for Jackson to sit down on thecouch and he does, Katie playing with his hair. He needs a haircut; somehow heis always in need of one. Mulder knows he can't say anything; Jackson is grownp, makes his own decisions. But sometimes he wishes he could just drag him to asalon, sit him down and get him a decent hairdo.

"What should wewatch?" The remote control is in Scully's hand. She never watches TV andshe glances at Jackson and Mulder. Jackson shrugs and tickles Katie whogiggles. Mulder doesn't care either. He's having one of his moments. At least that'swhat Scully and Jackson like to call them. He is happy. No, he is more thanthat. It feels like a dream, a good one. He's sitting here with his wife andtheir children. There's no drama, there are no monsters. He's never been thisthankful for bad chicken.

"How about thatmovie there?" Jackson points at a small picture. Mulder is not going toadmit it looks blurry to him. Katie jumps up and down on the couch.

"Boss Baby?"Scully asks.

"I figured we'vegot one here," Jackson ruffles Katie's hair, "might as well learnsomething." And that's that. All four of them settle together on the couchwith Katie crawling over Jackson's lap to get in between her parents. Half thecouch is empty as they huddle in one corner, sitting as close together aspossible. It doesn't take long for Katie to fall asleep. Mulder can tell by howheavy she feels against him and by her deep breathing. He chances a look atScully who has one hand on Katie's back. There's a smile on her face as shewatches the screen, but he doesn't think she's paying much attention. Just likeJackson next to him. His son, grown up or not, has nodded off as well. His headlands on Mulder's shoulder as he sleeps on. He chuckles and Scully turns tohim.

"You like themovie?"

"No idea,"he admits, "I'm just… I like this. Us, here. The kids asleep." Hechuckles again.

"I'm surprisedI'm still awake." Scully says and as if to make a point, yawns.

"So am I. You cansleep, you know. Seems like I'm the only one who got some decent sleep lastnight."

"Hmmm."

"Are you worriedabout your body lotion? I'll buy you a new one. I promise. I will put itsomewhere Katie can't reach. I can't believe she actually ate it." Heshakes his head, marvels at his tiny daughter. Do all two year olds eat bodylotion? "Do you think we need to take her to a doctor?"

"Hm, no."Scully yawns again. It won't be long until he's the only one awake.

"No?"

"No. It's a handmadebody lotion, Mulder. Why do you think it's so expensive? It only has edible ingredientsin it. It's completely safe."

"You boughtedible body lotion?"

"You're notsupposed to eat it," Scully explains with a sleepy sigh, "but it'sall right if you do. She's your daughter, Mulder."

"Huh?"

"I bought itbecause she's like you: she eats everything." Mulder wants to saysomething, defend his honor. There's no use; they both know it's true. He looksdown at his sleeping daughter. Edible body lotion, who would have thought.Jackson moves against him, cuddles closer. He never thought he'd get toexperience this. When he turns to Scully again, to tell her what he's feelingand how much he loves her, her eyes are closed, her breathing even. He closeshis eyes, too, content in knowing that he can tell her later.

#i wrote a thing!#i didn't think it would turn out this long #family fluff #hope you guys like it #i need to write something else for a change i feel #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic #Anonymous

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