#anyways true final is on saturday

[ceruleanharley]

croatia and morocco love each other so much that we're gonna play another match this world cup i love that for us

[leviiackrman]

Me: I wanna be productive so bad! I wanna finish my drawings!!

Illness: how about barf up a lung?

[dollfacefantasy]

Kiss It Better

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!bunny-hybrid!reader

summary: on a day planned to be just for just you and leon, he gets called into work. it dredges up some old memories, and upon returning home, he wants to make it better by taking extra care of his baby bunny.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, cockwarming, daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, hurt/comfort, reader copes with her past at the shelter

word count: 6.1k

a/n: yay leon and his baby bunny finally return. i hope this lives up to the first part lol which can be found here. i have another part planned as well if people are interested. as always reblogs and comments mean the world <3

“I could never say no to my sweet baby bunny.”

A statement Leon had said off-hand in the heat of the moment. Something he’d told you as a comfort, a way of warming you up for your first intimate moments together. He hadn’t put much thought into it before it rolled out of his mouth. 

But damn, if only he’d known how true it would prove to be.

The words were ringing through his head right now as you dragged him through the mall on another Saturday he dedicated entirely to spending time with you. He’d already bought you a fair amount of stuff from cute frilly socks to pretty pink panties to some tiny t-shirts he knew he’d regret as soon as you used one to get your way. And now you were heading towards a shop tucked away in the farthest corner of the shopping center. His only hope was that the location meant it was the end of the line, the last stop on your trip.

From what he could see, it sold stuffed animals amongst other items that could clutter up his house. Luckily, the small plush toys seemed to be the only things drawing your attention. Your eyes scanned the rows before fixating on a specific one that sat on the bottom shelf. You crouched down to get and pulled it to your chest, standing up again so Leon could see your selection. His eyes soften as he notices your little cottontail twitching with excitement.

He can’t help the smile that spreads on his face at the sight. His sweet girl standing there with a small plush cow in her arms. The tufts of black and white fur jutted out the top of its head near a set of foamy horns. You looked up at him with puppy eyes, which he’d come to view as unfair since he’d chosen a bunny for a reason. But they worked on him all the same.

“Baby-” he starts, but you interject, predicting his argument.

“I don’t have a cow yet,” you plead, “It’s just one more.”

“Yeah, this one is just one more. And so is the next one, and the one after that, and the one after fifty more of these things,” he teases.

“C’mon, please,” you beg, stepping close to him to lean against his chest.

“Is this your way of telling me you want your own bed again? You’re just gonna fill the one we share with more and more of these until there’s no room and I’m pushed to the floor,” he jokes.

“No,” you deny, “Plus I put them away at night anyways.”

“Most of them,” he corrects.

“Cause I need my bear to sleep,” you say with a little pout.

He swears he almost swoons. You’re too fucking cute. He knows he’s spoiled you rotten. You’re treated better than the average hybrid to put it lightly, but he was past the point of paying that any mind. That shelter he’d picked you up from never let you have stuff like this. In his mind, he was righting their wrongs, burying those sad memories with as much cute shit as he could afford. And if other people didn’t approve, if they thought he should keep you silent and on a leash, he couldn’t care less.

Looking down at you now, playfully pleading with him for that stuffed animal, he knew he could never treat you like that. He rolls his eyes and messes with your hair, gently scratching the base of your floppy ears.

“Fine,” he says, “One more.”

You all but cheer with your excitement, bouncing up to give him a fat kiss on the cheek. He takes the stuffie from you and walks to the register to pay for it. You walk, lacing your hand with his and swinging your arms back and forth.

He looks over at you and instantly remembers why he always ends up giving in. Why he can never say no. Now that you had opened up, he couldn’t get enough of you. He’d loved you before that day a few months ago, the day when he’d caught you during your attempt at self-soothing with his pillow between your legs. But since that day, a whole new layer of you had been revealed to him. The sweet and shy bunny he’d met at the shelter touched his heart first, but the affectionate and needy girl you’d allowed him to see owned it now.

He pays for your little cow, adding another bag to the collection hanging from his arm, and leads you out of the store. You tuck yourself under his arm, clinging to his abdomen.

“Thank you, daddy,” you say quietly and press a kiss to his chest.

His heart throbs at the sound of the sweet name you’d attributed to him months ago. He has to remind himself that you’re in public before any other part of his body reacts.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says and strokes one of your ears with his free hand.

Once the pair of you reach his car, he loads your stuff in before giving you a pat on the ass as you climb in the front seat. You’re all smiles, and he couldn’t feel better. He gets in the driver’s seat and switches the car on. Your hand goes for the controls to the music right away. He always let you pick when you were with him. Each song acted as a little glimpse into you and what you liked.

As you’re selecting one you like, he feels a buzz in his pocket. He fishes his phone out as you share some of the stuff you like about the song you put on. You then start asking him where you’re going next, but the plans slowly begin to unravel as he reads the message displayed over the picture of you he had as his screensaver.

“Shit…” he mutters to himself before looking back up at you. Your ears droop in tandem with his face dropping. “Baby, I gotta drop you back at the house. I gotta take care of some stuff at work for a bit.”

He sees the disappointment in your eyes, and it kills him.

“But… I thought you took the day off,” you say. Your mood rapidly depletes. It wasn’t his fault, but it wasn’t fair. This was supposed to be a day where he was all yours. Twenty four hours where the D.S.O. laid no claim on him.

“I did, but I’ve told you how it is sometimes. I can’t get out of it some days,” he says.

“But you already stayed late all week. What else do they even need you for?” you ask. It may be irrational, but you can’t help how your mind floods with a sense of abandonment in the moment. You knew Leon would never do that, but the years you spent in that shelter had done a good job of convincing you otherwise.

“Just some formality stuff. I’ll be as quick as I can. You know I wouldn’t choose working over being with you,” he says.

Now he’s the one pleading. Your ears are flat on your head, and your eyes are fixed on your seat below you. He knows you feel wounded now even though you’re holding it in.

“If you’re mad it’s ok,” he whispers and reaches out to stroke your jawline, “You can be upset, honey. I won’t get mad at you. I know you were excited about today.”

As much as you had opened up, he could tell you still shied away from showing too much negative emotion. He knew you’d gone through some punishments at the shelter you were still too scared to talk about.

“It’s not your fault,” you say and shrug, dejection all over your features.

He sighs and starts the car, pulling out of the parking space, and heading towards the house. “I know it’s not, but you can still let out some frustration. I wouldn't think you’re ungrateful if that’s what you’re worried about. You wouldn’t get in trouble,” he says, keeping his tone gentle.

You bring your feet up onto the seat and retreat into yourself a bit. With a simple shake of your head, he knows the topic has closed.

He lets out a quiet sigh as he drives down the road.  It drips with the frustration that he’s letting you down. He can’t reach inside your head and pull out the negative effects of the shelter. He can’t tell the D.S.O. to fuck off and let him spend as many hours as he wants with his precious girl. All he can do is pull into the driveway and watch you get out of the car, your posture slightly slumped with the encroaching feelings of loneliness. You pull your shopping bags from the car. At least you give him a little parting kiss so he doesn’t feel completely emaciated.

He watches your sad trudge into the house before taking the car back out of the driveway and down the same road in the opposite direction.

Inside the house, the silence dominates you. You pad down the hallway to the bedroom that had once belonged solely to Leon. Dropping the bags of clothes near the door, you then hop on the bed and toss your new little cow up near your other pillows. Your eyes linger on the ceiling. You’d become familiar with the insignificant bumps and ridges above that provided a distraction on sleepless nights. Nights where you just needed to tune everything out and count them to avoid being haunted by the past.

Before Leon had taken you in, you always imagined you’d enjoy the quiet of a real home. The shelter always echoed with loud cries of sorrow, screams of anger, and whimpers of hopelessness. You’d lie on the thin mattress tucked in the corner of your area and try to dream of the days your bed would be lush with pillows and blankets, decorated how you liked and  surrounded by the peace of you and whoever had chosen to love you.

And now those days have come. They’re real. You didn’t have to deal with the constant atmosphere of despair or the looming threat of punishment for acting like a human being. So why was it so easy for you to tumble into sadness like this? Why did the quiet no longer mean sanctuary but rather the absence of the person you loved most in this world? You could never work it out. It was too hard. Any time you tried you ended up spiraling into even more self loathing. Because there’s nothing to be sad about anymore. There’s no reason to feel like this. That stuff shouldn’t bother you; it’s nothing more than a collection of ugly memories at this point. Why couldn’t you be grateful for the life Leon had given you? The man gave you just about anything under the sun you could want, so why did one minor inconvenience have to throw you off this badly?

The bags by the door didn’t make you smile anymore. They only brought guilt. You didn’t deserve them. All the gifts and love he lavished upon you would never make you into what you were supposed to be.

Your thoughts consume you for longer than you notice. The sky darkens outside, tinting the room with a violet haze. You lie on the bed under your self-made cloud of gloom for hours, not noticing how much time has passed until you hear the garage door closing and footsteps getting closer. You glance at the bedroom door as it opens silently.

Of course, it’s Leon. His eyes fill with concern at the sight of you. He’d seen you down before but never so deflated. His face now resembles how he looked when he caught you humping his pillow all those months ago, but it’s also distinctly different. He still has curiosity in his gaze, not able to pin down what exactly is the reason for the present circumstances. Though the reaction this time is more worried than surprised. Your present state doesn’t shock him; instead he feels a protective instinct flare within him.

He approaches the bed and sits next to your limp form. His palm rubs up and down your arm slowly. “Hey baby,” he says softly, “You doing ok?”

You look up at him and nod. Sitting up, you scoot to him and align your side with his. Your legs extend out in the opposite direction of him as your head rests on the curve of his shoulder. “I just missed you,” you say softly, your arms encircling the circumference of his bicep.

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and starts rubbing your back. “You do anything fun while I was gone?” he asks.

“Nothing special,” you respond, “Think shopping made me sleepy.”

You speak with a soft tone of voice, attempting to further the idea that this was merely a bout of tiredness. His eyebrows rise with suspicion. As cute as you look with your cheek squished against his shoulder, he pulls your body around and seats you on his lap. His fingers sweep down your jaw and guide you to look up at him.

“You sure you’re just tired? Nothing else? We weren’t out for that long. I just wanna make sure you’re alright,” he says, trying to show you with how he speaks that it’s not an accusation.

But you remain firm in your convictions and nod. “Mhm, I’m already feeling better. I just needed a little rest,” you assure him and tuck your face against his neck.

It’s not a lie. You were feeling better now that he had returned, each passing moment had little improvement for your mood. But he knew something still wasn’t right. He strokes down the silky expanse of your ears while his other hand massages the base of your tail.

“Well, I missed you too, y’know? Couldn’t stop thinking about my sweet baby bunny the whole time I was at work,” he says.

You were already melting against his chest from the physical contact, but now a smile graces your features. “Really?” you ask, looking up at him again.

“Really,” he confirms, “I felt pretty bad leaving you all alone when it was supposed to be our day.”

“Oh, you don’t have to fe-” you start before he interrupts.

“No, I told you the day was gonna be for us. So how about this?” he asks, rubbing his thumb back and forth over your chin, “How about instead we make it a night for us? I’ll give you a nice bath, put you in some of the new stuff I got you.”

He kisses your head again, then your temple, then your cheek.

“Maybe daddy’ll even give you a special treat before you fall asleep,” he murmurs before kissing your lips.

Taking in a deep breath, you nod. You’re helpless when he treats you like this, disagreeing doesn’t even seem like an option.

“Will you get in the bath with me though?” you ask.

He grins and rises off the bed with you in his arms. “Of course. Anything for my baby bunny.”

The two of you head to the attached bathroom. He sits you on the counter while drawing the bath. Steam drifts up into the hair from the hot water pooling in the tub. He lights some candles, dims the lights, and lets you pick out the scent of bubbles you want.

You sit on the laminate countertop, lazily swinging your dangling legs as you watch him. He checks the temperature of the water multiple times and stares at the clear liquid coming from the bottle of bubble bath. Once that’s taken care of, it’s your turn. He slips your shirt over your head and your bottoms down your legs like you’re the most delicate thing on the face of the earth. Kisses land on your jaw as he pulls your panties off too and drops them in the hamper with the other articles of clothing. So meticulous about everything, at least when it came to you.

He scoops you up again and brings you to the bath, setting you down in the water before twisting the faucet off and discarding his own clothing. Then he climbs in behind you, slotting his body between yours and the cool marble.

“C’mere, baby. Nice and close to daddy,” he murmurs as he pulls you onto his thighs.

You sink into his chest. The feeling of his skin against yours is almost enough to make it all better, enough to make you forget about earlier. You nuzzle into his muscular front, making him smile. He strokes your face and takes care to avoid getting your ears wet.

Both baths and showers used to make you anxious, and he knew that. One of the details you had shared with him about your life at the shelter was having to share the space with all the other hybrids, including the bathrooms. You’d told him how much you hated it, and he could only imagine. He tried extra hard now to make both as comfortable for you as possible, pampering you like an absolute princess.

Thinking about all this, him going above and beyond for you like he always did, makes you turn more into his body. Your arms loop around him, and you place your head beside his, obscuring your downtrodden expression from his vision. Your chin rests on his shoulder as he returns the embrace and holds you closer.

“My perfect girl,” he whispers.

The words are complimentary, but right now, the second in particular stings like a blade. You nestle your face against the warmth of his throat and tighten your limbs around him, trying to drown out the bad swirling inside of you with the feeling of his flesh on yours.

He knows you’re still acting a little unusual. Maybe your heat was right around the corner and it had you feeling extra needy. Maybe you were just still a bit sad about missing out on a day with him. He wasn’t totally sure, but he just wanted to make it better. And the way you were starting to press against him, breasts flush against his chest and the warmth of your thighs pressing against either side of him had his cock starting to stiffen up.

“Sweet thing… you wanna feel a little closer, hm?” he murmurs, fingertips rubbing tiny circles into the small of your back.

You weakly nod.

“Is this close enough? Or should daddy get even closer? I think being inside would feel even better,” he whispers.

You nod again, this time with more motivation. “Please daddy,” you mumble.

“Of course. All you had to do was ask,” he says. He lazily strokes himself a few times beneath the water, getting himself a little harder before he lifts you slightly and slides in.

A soft moan drifts out of you as he lowers you again. You put your head back down on him and sit with the comfort of being full.

“There’s my baby bunny,” he coos in a low voice.

He also takes in the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in. The feeling of your warm, wet embrace wrapped around him.

The two of you sit quietly for a while more, the bathroom silent except for the occasional trickle of water when one of you shifts. Flickering lights from the candles paint the walls in dim orange as the scent of the bubble bath takes over the air completely.

But to Leon’s dismay, your mood doesn’t seem to be brightening up. You don’t start squirming with the need to ride him like you normally would. You don’t get extra sappy with him and start going for more kisses or longing looks. 

He reaches for the wash cloth resting on the brim of the tub and soaks it in the water. He squirts some soap onto it and gently rubs it up and down your back. He can feel your muscles losing some of their tension, but you’re still withdrawn. He continues tenderly cleaning you off while you sit with him inside you.

After a few moments more, not knowing becomes unbearable. “Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.

“Nothing, I’m-”

“You’re not just sleepy,” he interjects. His voice is still loving despite the confrontational manner of the conversation. 

He gently guides you away from his body so you’re kneeling straight up in the bath. His eyes scan you over, trying to make this easier by figuring out what it is, but he can’t. He brings the wash cloth up to your chest and starts brushing it against your chest, between your breasts, and down your belly.

“I know something’s wrong, and I know you’re scared of talking about things like this. But I would honestly prefer you telling me what it is, even if it comes out harsh, to sitting here and trying to figure out what’s bothering you,” he says as he rubs your skin with the soft cloth.

“I don’t know,” you say timidly.

“I’m only asking because I care. I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is. Seeing you hurting hurts me too, baby,” he responds.

“I’m not lying. I don’t know,” you say again, some defensiveness seeping into your words, “I don’t know why I feel bad. I don’t know how to tell you what’s wrong. I just- I felt sad earlier, and I know I shouldn’t feel sad which makes me more sad.”

He sees the panic rising in your eyes and hears your words becoming more rushed. In an effort to keep the situation controlled, he pulls you back to his chest, hushing your worries by engulfing you with his arms. You reciprocate the motion, eager to retreat from your emotions. He takes a pause to grapple with what you had just said.

“What do you mean you shouldn’t feel sad?” he asks.

“Because… because there’s no reason to be sad,” you answer.

“If you’re sad, then there’s a reason to be sad,” he says and looks down at you with growing concern.

You shake your head. “No, there isn’t,” you whimper. You start to feel tears collecting in your eyes while your throat feels like it’s constricting. “You make everything so perfect for me, and I can’t do the same for you.”

He’s beyond confused at this point. He feels a couple tears fall against his neck, and all he can do is hold you tighter.

“Woah, woah, baby, c’mon,” he says, trying to prevent more tears, “What are you talking about? Perfect? I don’t expect you to be perfect.”

“Yeah, exactly because you are perfect. You never push me. You never ask for too much. You never do anything bad, and I still get like this,” you cry.

“... Is that a bad thing?” he asks, still lost.

“No, but I just wanna be perfect for you too. You work so hard all the time at your job, and then you come home and you have to deal with me,” you weep and cling onto him more, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” he says in a hushed voice, “You’re exactly what I want. I couldn’t ask for anything more than you.”

“Yes, you could. You deserve someone who can give you what you give. You deserve someone who’s not fucked up by stupid stuff from the past,” you cry, “I’ll never be a perfect pet, and I don’t wanna disappoint you.”

His chest aches and tightens up when he hears that. He starts to pull out, figuring this wasn’t the time to be balls deep inside you, but you stay locked around him so he stays put.

“Sweetheart, you’re not… I don’t see you as…” he starts, being careful with his words.

You continue your quiet crying against him.

“You’re more than a pet to me,” he decides, soft but firm, “You don’t disappoint me ever. You can’t disappoint me because I don’t have expectations of what you should be. You’re not some dumb animal that I want to mold into a fantasy. I know you were treated like that before, but that’s not what you are to me. You’re my baby bunny. My little love.”

More tears spill out onto him. The bathwater ripples with the shaking of your body.

“You’re not fucked up,” he whispers, “That stuff you went through at the shelter, that’s a big deal. I don’t expect you to just be able to move on from that like it’s normal. You need some extra care, and I’ve known that since the first day you came home with me. It’s not a bad thing. It’s something I love about you. I’m not dealing with you when we do things like this. You’re not a burden to me.”

“Promise?” is all you can choke out right now.

“I promise, baby. Cross my heart and hope to die,” he murmurs and kisses your temple. He sighs and squeezes his arms around you before saying a little more amidst the quiet of the bathroom. “I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly how you feel. But I know how it is to get shoved into a life you didn’t ask for. To get expectations put on you that you can never meet. I don’t want you to feel like that with me. I love you, and I’m gonna love you whether you’re a perfect ‘pet’ or not. That’s not what’s important to me.”

You know he’s being genuine. You hold yourself closer and press a few faint kisses to his throat. “I’m sorry,” you cry.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he whispers, “Just try and calm down for me, sweet girl. Take some deep breaths.”

You do as he says and work towards settling down. Your breathing slows, and the tears slowly stop. He grabs another washcloth and wets it. He guides your head up and gives you a small kiss before dabbing at your cheeks and cleaning your face of any remaining sadness. Your eyes flutter shut and relax under the loving care of his movements. He tends to your hair next, caring for it how you need.

Once your bath is done, he pulls out of you. You give him a little pout, bringing a smirk to his face.

“Patience, little one,” he teases before standing up with you in his arms.

He taps the stopper with his foot, draining the bathtub as he steps out. He sets you down so he can wrap a towel around his waist and then bundles you up in a big fluffy one. He dries you off and brings you in front of the mirror. He applies some product to your ears, something he’d gotten to keep them from drying out. You can’t help the smile on your face as his fingers gently rub down your long, fluffy ears. You can feel his love through his motions. He follows it with your hair routine, going through each step with precision and making sure to do it just how you like.

Before he takes you to the bedroom, his arms curl around your waist and he slots his head next to yours, gazing into your eyes through the reflective glass of the mirror.

“My baby bunny,” is all he says before pulling you out to the bed and laying you down on it.

He gets some of your lotion, a scent he’d become so familiar with. He rubs it all up and down your legs, taking time to lightly massage as he works. His hands glide all over your body, over your hips, up your sides, across your chest, and down your arms to your hands. Every inch of you was going to feel soft as silk if he could help it. The soft sighs of pleasure that come from you are enough to keep him thoroughly invested in the process.

When he’s finished, he plants a kiss on your lips and gets up. He heads to the door where you had dropped the shopping bags from earlier. He’s rifling through them, pulling out some new items you could wear to bed. He fishes out a cute t-shirt and some smooth panties when he hears your voice call to him.

“Wait, daddy?” you say.

“Yeah, baby?” he responds immediately, looking over his shoulder at you.

“Come back,” you request.

He looks at you curiously but stands up and walks back to the edge of the bed where you were sitting. Looking down at you lovingly, he holds your jaw and squeezes your cheeks. “What is it?”

“I don’t wanna get dressed yet… Maybe I could still have my treat… if you want to,” you initiate timidly while grabbing the hem of his towel.

He smiles and breathes out a laugh. “Yeah? You’re feeling better and need daddy again?” he asks teasingly, letting you tug the towel loose. It crumples to the floor behind his legs and unveils his cock to you.

“Always need my daddy,” you say, looking up at him.

“Don’t I know it,” he teases.

He pushes you back on the bed and crawls on top of you. Leaning down, he kisses and nips at your neck. His hands squeeze your hips. You nuzzle the side of his head affectionately. Out of the corner of your eye you see him swat away the plush cow that sat nearby on a pillow from when you’d thrown it earlier.

“Hey,” you say, feigning protest, “That’s mean. He didn’t do anything.”

“I’m sure he’ll forgive me,” he says with a grin.

Your body is already exposed from the bath, and he takes advantage. He kisses down along your collarbone towards the valley of your breasts. His palms cup them at the sides as his lips coast over them. He always took his time with you when he could. He’d get to rush when you were in heat and soaked just from being in the room with him.

Your fingers lace through the strands of his hair as you draw in a sharp breath. He laves at your nipples and the sensitive flesh of your breasts. His tongue caresses along the curves slowly, building your anticipation and causing your tummy to start fluttering.

His hand slides down your body, dipping between your legs to seek out your center. His fingers brush against the velvet folds and feel how they’re beginning to grow slick with your arousal. He swirls around your clit before pressing down on the sensitive nub and rubbing. Your lips part as you mewl.

“Is daddy already making you feel good, baby?” he coos.

You nod as your face starts to morph into that pouty look you get when you’re worked up. He loves every second of it and continues flicking his middle finger against the bud.

“You gonna let me show you how perfect you are, hm?” he asks.

You simply whine in response and tilt your head back against the pillows.

“That’s my girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you get like this,” he says.

He swipes his fingers up and down some more until he feels you're wet enough and ready to take him. He was certain you could take it without as much prep. Over the last couple of months, you’d you’d shown him the phrase “fucking like rabbits” was true after all, but he liked making you feel like you needed it. He like dragging his tip against your entrance, teasingly prodding the head of his cock at your hole. He savored the way you whine and squirm for it. Just like you were doing right now.

He pushes it in you, a deep groan coming from him as he sinks in all the way to the hilt. The way your eyes flutter and droop drives him crazy. His arms cage you down on the mattress as his knees sink into the plush blankets for leverage so that he can start thrusting.

“Perfect fit, that’s for sure,” he grunts, “No one else can take my cock like you can.”

You nod, whimpering and holding onto him. “Made for my daddy,” you say before gasping.

“Yeah you were. My perfect angel bunny. Sent down just for me,” he says and starts rocking his hips.

You writhe within the confines of his arms. Your breasts push up against his chest as your back arches. He fucks into you deep as he can, just how he knows you like it. Gripping your wrists, he pins them on the mattress, keeping you secure and in place so that he can piston his hips against you without interruption.

His own head tilts back, eyes shutting and lips separating the smallest bit. You gaze up at him like he’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. Every bit of him makes you clamp around his length.

“Such a good girl,” he mutters, “This is just what you needed. Just needed daddy to breed you and get you nice and calm again.”

That word makes your fuse burn faster, and you nod vigorously. “Can’t help it daddy,” you whimper, “I’m just a bunny. Don’t know any better.”

“Oh, I know, baby. Sweet little bunny like you needs to be bred. You need daddy’s cock to function, don’t you? Nothing feels right if you haven’t been bred,” he says, picking up more speed.

“Mhm,” you squeak.

Your legs start trembling hard as he hammers into your sweet spot over and over. To stabilize you, he lets go of your wrists and places his palms on the back of your thighs. He’s pressing you so hard into the mattress it feels like you might drop through straight to the floor. You cry out for him again and again, spurring him on.

“Good girl. I gotta breed my perfect little bunny. Fuck you nice and full like you deserve,” he grunts. The bed creaks with the force of his movements.

He pants as he drills into you. His head eventually falls forward to your shoulder again, but his hips don’t stop rolling.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum so hard, you’re gonna end up with a whole litter,” he moans.

Your eyes roll back and your legs lock around his waist. “Need it, daddy. Please,” you whine and clutch at his shoulders.

“I need it too baby. Need to knock up my sweet baby bunny. Gotta get you nice and full so everyone knows you’re all mine,” he says.

You’re both almost at the peak, gripping each other as tight as possible, sucking in air like there’s a limited supply. Both of you are moments from snapping when Leon’s eyes screw shut, his mind clouded by images of you pregnant with his babies. It’s too much, and he’s snapping into you like he’ll die otherwise.

“You’re gonna be the prettiest mama to our perfect babies,” he moans against you before his body starts sputtering.

The feeling of his cum flooding into you is enough to throw you over the edge with him. You seize up, back arching off the bed like you're possessed. You babble out some words of love, but all of it gets lost. You’re so jumbled up from the high, you both can only cling to each other as you ride it out.

You’re still breathing heavy as you come down, and so is he. Puffs of his breath come out right next to your ear. He lazily kisses below the lobe as you come back to reality.

“You see how important to me you are? See how much I love you?” he murmurs as he carefully rolls over and brings you to rest on his chest with him still buried inside you.

You nod and peck his jaw as you settle against him.

“Good. I never want you thinking like that again. If you ever need a reminder of what I think of you, I want you to tell me, and I’ll give you this same reminder.”

“I will,” you agree softly as he strokes your back.

You’re both exhausted from the exertion and the long day. He’s content to just melt into the bed while tangled up with you.

“Gonna keep you plugged up for a while, baby. Gotta make sure it takes, my sweet girl,” he mumbles as his eyes start drooping.

You gaze up at him, pretty sure you have hearts in your eyes. Your doubt and sadness had been abated for now. You nuzzle him and kiss his chest before trying to get some rest yourself. 

“Love you daddy. So so much,” you whisper.

[beginningofwonderland]

Angel - Park Seonghwa

Pairing: domSeonghwaxfemReader

Genre: smut (MINORS DNI!)

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: During a gaming session with your best friend San you admit to him that your boyfriend Seonghwa is too soft to you. You complain about his angel persona and want him to fuck you right instead. To your demise, Seonghwa accidentally listened in on your conversation and is now determined to make all your wishes come true.

Warnings: establishing a safeword but NO USE of that safeword, rough sex, oral sex (both receiving), deep-throating, choking, unprotected sex (don't do this!!), creampie, dumbification

Seonghwa littered soft kisses from your jaw to your lips and smiled at you like the human incarnation of sunshine.

"You feel good now, baby?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yes, I do angel." You nuzzled your head into his shoulder in response.

You did feel good. After a cuddly makeout session that had turned steamy in the laziness of a saturday morning Seonghwa had just finished eating you out for what felt like hours. He was an expert with his tongue, making you come multiple times until you had to pull him away from your sensitive core because he would go on forever if he could.

But still you felt like something was missing. With the way he always held onto you like a delicate flower, his fingers merely ghosting over your skin. Sometimes you wished for them to just grab you, to leave you bruised and crying beneath him until you couldn't take any more.

You and Seonghwa were still a relatively new thing and you were sure he had this cute little image of you inside his head that you were afraid to destroy. But deep down inside, you just wanted him to treat you more roughly when it came to the bedroom.

"I'll make us some coffee," he pulled you from your dirty thoughts and you released him from your hug so that he could get out of bed. When he left the room, you sighed. You had tried to give him hints before, telling him to go harder, moving your own hands on top of his to squeeze your skin, but he continued treating you like fine porcelain.

You soon got dressed and joined Seonghwa to make some breakfast. You two shared pancakes in the morning sunlight that fell through the wall length windows in Seonghwa's apartment as you talked about your plans for the day.

"I have a meeting with Hongjoong and then I'll have to run some errands today," Seonghwa explained. "I won't be back before dinner."

"Then I'll meet up with San online for some gaming later. We haven't been able to play in ages." Since San had moved to the other end of town, you two met online more often than in real life and usually used that time to catch up on each other and discuss the hottest gossip. You two had been best friends for years and you had actually met Seonghwa through him.

"That sounds good. Say 'hi' to him from me."

You finished your breakfast and Seonghwa soon left for his appointment with Hongjoong. You started off your day slowly and watched some Netflix before taking a shower and getting dressed. You usually stayed at Seonghwa's place over the weekend since he had the bigger and much nicer apartment out of the two of you.

He even let you make your own little gaming area in his office room where you could play when you stayed at his place. You got yourself a cold drink and finally settled into his comfortable office chair to go online and play with San. He had agreed to meet up only minutes after you had texted him. He usually stayed in on the weekends anyway.

"Hey Sannie," you greeted him through your headset as soon as you joined the call with him.

"Helloooo," he answered in a bright spirit.

You two started setting up the game and soon joined the first match while exchanging small talk. It was a comfortable routine for both of you. Somehow talking to each other while busying yourself with a game just made everything easier. Before you even noticed, you two were already playing for hours.

"So how is it really going right now, San?" You asked during an annoyingly long loading screen. "How is living with Wooyoung?"

A deep sigh was hearable through San's microphone. "He's being Wooyoung, like always. But lately he got into cooking so at least I get meals now to compensate for his annoying ass."

You laughed at his whiny tone. You knew how the two friends were around each other; always teasing and annoying each other but still inseparable. "Just don't fight over a stupid puzzle again. I'm sick of finding pieces whenever I visit you two."

San chuckled at the memory of how he and Wooyoung had thrown puzzle pieces at each other in a petty fight. "And how is it going with Seonghwa?" he asked in return.

"Good," you answered. Your mind couldn't help but wander to the worries you had had just this morning.

"Oh god what is it?" San asked in a panicked tone.

"What do you mean? I said good!" You tried to defend yourself.

"Yeah, but you should've heard yourself saying it. Terrible would've sounded nicer."

You groaned in frustration. You didn't mean to make it sound that bad.

"What is it?" San pressed on. "Cause I swear to god if he treats you badly I will collect Wooyoung and we will kick his ass-"

"He treats me very well, don't worry," you interrupted San before he could get any more dumb ideas.

"You sure?" the man asked sceptically. The next match finally started and you didn't even realize your rambling as you answered him.

"Yeah, in fact he is a literal angel. He already knows all my favourite candies and brings me some everytime he visits the store. He always lets me choose what to watch even if he hates the cheesy horror movies I like. I mean he basically let me turn his office into a gaming room for me."

"I'm happy to hear that. But what is the problem then?" San asked with confusion evident in his voice. "Does he not fuck you right?"

You didn't want to admit to it but the prolonged silence spoke volumes. San laughed at the other end of the call.

"Damn, and I always thought he had it in him. He acts like he does at least. You two do fuck, right?"

San couldn't see but you blushed helplessly in front of the monitor. "Yes, we do. God this is embarrassing."

"How is this embarrassing? You always told me about your dates before Seonghwa. In detail," San argued with you while quite literally saving your life in the match you couldn't concentrate on any more.

"That was fine because you didn't know any of those guys. But you've known Seonghwa longer than I do and this is... embarrassing."

"You're being annoying. You can talk to me Y/n. Maybe I can help," he tried to coerce you into spitting out your problem. "Also I'm nosy. So what's the problem?"

What you didn't notice was that Seonghwa had already returned to the apartment. He had made an effort to open the door as silently as possible. He knew you would still be gaming with San and wanted to surprise you with a self-cooked dinner after you were done. He had sped through all his errands, so that he could come home earlier.

After returning he couldn't resist to check in on you for a second. He wanted to make sure you hadn't noticed his early return and also get another glance at you before preparing dinner. You always looked so cute at his desk with your headset and controller.

He cracked open the door to his office carefully. As expected, you were completely focussed on the game and didn't notice a thing. His eyes flitted over your tight crop top and the sweat shorts you were wearing in the heat and his mind already started wandering places at the sight of your glistening skin. What he didn't expect was what you were talking about.

"The problem is that he treats me a little to well."

Is she talking about me?

Seonghwa was stunned into his place. He knew he shouldn't eavesdrop but he couldn't resist staying a little longer to hear what else you had to say.

"I think you'll need to elaborate on that," San replied audibly confused.

"He treats me like a porcelain doll!" you finally admitted. "I think he has this image of me as his cute, innocent girl that he doesn't want to hurt. But I really wished he would just fuck me without holding back."

San chuckled at the other end of the call. Meanwhile Seonghwa was frozen into his spot. He couldn't believe his own ears. He would've never guessed that this was what you wanted and was surprised by your words.

But more than that he felt a burning heat spread through his whole body as he processed what you said. You wanted him to have his way with you without holding back. The thought made him dizzy.

Ever since you two were together that was exactly what he had been doing: holding back. He thought that you deserved someone that loved you tenderly and carefully. So he tried his best to be that person.

"That sounds like you should just talk to him," San replied after some pondering.

" know," you said. "I want to tell him but I don't know how. It's kind of hard to bring up..."

Seonghwa swallowed hard as he felt bad that you were afraid to speak up to him. You were right. He didn't want to hurt you because he couldn't stand the thought of you hurting. But now that he knew that was exactly what you wanted... he felt every little bit of self control leave his body. He left his place at the door before he could fuck you right there in his office chair and closed the door silently behind him. He had different plans with you.

"I'm afraid he might not like it," you shyly added to San in the silence.

"Trust me," San snickered. "He is heads over heels for you. He won't push you away. Also I happen to know Seonghwa well enough to assure you, that's exactly what he likes."

You smiled at San's reassuring words and you two continued your game. Talking to him had actually made you feel better. You planned on talking to Seonghwa as soon as the opportunity came up.

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

You put the controller back into the drawer which Seonghwa kept free for only you and stretched your limbs after getting out of the chair. You had played longer than expected but it was nice to catch up with San.

Just as you made your way into the living room to maybe watch some more Netflix until Seonghwa returned, you heard some rumbling in the kitchen. The noise took you by surprise and you got scared for a second, thinking it might be an intruder.

"Hwa?" you called out carefully and wandered towards the kitchen. Your heartbeat quickened when noone answered you.

You turned the corner only to see Seonghwa deeply in thought apparently concentrating on the stir fry in front of him. You relaxed as you saw him standing in the kitchen and not a robber.

"You're home already! Why didn't you come say hi to me?" you asked cutely and wrapped your arms around his torso careful not to interrupt his cooking.

He looked down at you almost like in a haze and it took a few seconds before he answered.

"I didn't want to interrupt your gaming session so I thought I'd cook us some dinner."

"That's very nice of you," you said and placed a tender kiss on his cheek. He really did treat you so well. You should talk to him after dinner.

But Seonghwa still seemed to be caught up in something. His eyes stared into the frying pan blankly and his hand stirred in a robotic motion. You eyed him carefully, wondering what could be going on in his head.

"Is everything okay, Hwa?" you asked him worriedly.

In response Seonghwa seemed to snap out of his focus and smiled at you: "Of course, sweetheart."

But his answer sounded posed, his voice a little too melodious as he tried sounding happy. You let it slide for now, not wanting to push him, maybe you were over-interpreting his behaviour.

What you couldn't know was that Seonghwa had spent every single second since he heard you talking to San imagining the things he wanted to do to you. His hand moved without him even noticing as he prepared the meal but his mind was all over the places he wanted to fuck you in now that he knew how much you wanted him to ruin you.

All of the possibilities clouded his mind and he found himself almost a little mad at you for not speaking up to him. All he wanted was for you to be happy but you would have to let him.

Both of you set the table and Seonghwa finished cooking dinner. You two settled down in an unusual silence as he started to fill your plate.

"How was your meeting with Hongjoong?" you asked, trying to get him to talk.

"Good," Seonghwa answered once again, his mind miles away from the meeting with his friend. In fact he couldn't even remember what they had talked about anymore.

His short reply worried you even more. "Are you sure, you're okay, Hwa? I feel like there's something you're not telling me."

Before he could hold himself back Seonghwa huffed out a breath of air and looked at you with a glint in his eyes. The intensity his gaze suddenly held took you by surprise.

"You think there's something I am not telling you?" he asked you back with a cocked up eyebrow. He was still standing while you had already sat down and his hands now came down onto the table to support himself as he looked at you with dark eyes.

 A cold shiver ran over your skin by the insinuation of his words. What was he talking about?

"What do you mean, angel?" you asked him in confusion.

Seonghwa slowly made his way over to you, his eyes fixed on yours like you were his prey. He stopped only inches before you before bending down to be at eye level with you. You could feel his hot breath on your lips.

"Angel. That's the problem about me isn't it? I'm too nice to you aren't I?" he asked with a pitying voice. He wasn't actually mad at you, but your question had stirred the tiniest bit of anger within him that mixed with all the held back sexual desire he had for you after overhearing your talk to San.

You couldn't answer him. How did he find out about what you had only just admitted to your best friend? Every sound got stuck in the back of your throat as Seonghwa stared at you so intensely. The way he hovered above you excited you wildly.

Your boyfriend seemed to take pity on you as he answered your unasked question: "I wanted to see if you were still playing with San when I overheard your little conversation."

A rush of embarrassment ran through you and you lowered your head to hide the blush on your cheeks. But at the same time you got excited. Judging from his behaviour he must have overheard the most important part. When he laid a finger under your chin to lift your head back up, you were already putty in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Hwa. I swear I wanted to talk to you about it," you started apologizing before he even asked you to. An amused grin spread over Seonghwa's handsome features and a small chuckle left him.

"And when exactly, princess? After I eat you out again for hours and you tell me you feel perfect? Did you lie to me too?"

He knew he was getting cruel but the way your eyes widened and you looked at him through those puppy eyes, he was sure he was pushing exactly the right buttons. The panic in your eyes only added to the burning desire inside of him.

"No! I didn't lie to you, Seonghwa! You are so good with your tongue, please I'm sorry." You almost stumbled over your words, eager to calm down the flames behind his hungry eyes.

"Sorry for what exactly? Tell me and I might forgive you." He said those last words slowly, almost in a whisper. Like he wasn't really sure about the idea of forgiving you.

"I'm sorry for not telling you what I want."

"And what is it that you want?" A dangerous smirk spread on his face. He wanted you to say it. Wanted to hear your pretty little voice repeat the words you had spoken to San before.

"I want you to be more rough with me," you almost whispered in admittance as you couldn't help but get shy under his stare.

"What did you say, baby? I couldn't hear you." His hand tightened it's grip on your chin and you almost moaned, already arching your back a little under his touch.

"I want you to be more rough with me, Seonghwa," you repeated louder this time, eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

"No, no. Exactly what you said before, baby!"

You had to rummage through your memory for a second before you could recall the words, you had spoken to San before:

"I really want you to just fuck me without holding back."

"Good girl," he hummed out and you couldn't help but shudder. "Now was that so hard? You know I couldn't help but get a little mad at you for telling San but not me. But now that you already look so pliant for me I can't really hold a grudge."

You swallowed and looked at him expectantly.

"So I can have my way with you now, beautiful?" he asked eagerly, eyes darkening by the second.

"Please," you answered already desperate for him to touch you. You never knew Seonghwa could be this way, but his dominant behaviour already drove you to insanity. If you had known, you would've told him way earlier about your desires.

"Then there's just one more thing," his expression suddenly turned soft again. "I need you to choose a safe word in case I get too much for you. If I make you uncomfortable in any way I want you to stop me. Okay, baby?"

You nodded at him with warm eyes. He made you feel so incredible safe. "How about eavesdropping?"

"You really want me to punish you, don't you?" Seonghwa said in a low tone and lifted your chin just a tiny bit more to show you who was in charge.

"I'm sorry, I'm just joking. I'll go with..." Your eyes flitted across the room in search for a useful word: "sunset."

Seonghwa smiled at you: "Better." Then his eyes darkened again and the warm smile dropped from his face as he looked you up and down.

"You know what I always wanted to do with you?" he asked tauntingly, his thumb running over your bottom lip and his eyes following its trail.

You gave a small shake of your head to show him you didn't know the answer. A smirk tugged on one end of his lips in response.

"You know how much I love it when you're giving me blowjobs, don't you? But I always wanted to fuck your pretty little mouth and make you choke on my cock until you can't breath anymore."

His direct words sent a jolt of electricity through your body and you couldn't stop a moan escaping your lips. His eyes flitted up to yours in surprise at the sound.

"So eager already? Then how about we make that your punishment for not telling me what you actually want, princess?"

You nodded quickly: "Please."

He huffed at you. "Please what, baby? It looks like I need to teach you how to talk properly from now on."

"Please choke me on your cock," you replied shamelessly, eyes blown wide as you stared at him from beneath.

Seonghwa groaned at your words and suddenly he grabbed you by your shoulders and shoved you down to the floor on your knees. He observed you cautiously, worried he might be too rough with you but the fire in your eyes only lit up more as he manhandled you onto the ground.

"Get those pants off of me unless you want me to edge you all night, will you, baby?"

Your hands scrambled to open his belt and jeans in an embarrassingly fast tempo. As you pulled his pants and underwear down, you were surprised to see that he was already fully hard. You would have never thought that your little talk had already turned him on so much.

You grabbed his length eagerly and looking up at him through hooded eyes you started slowly licking along the tip. Seonghwa's eyes fluttered in response and his hand weaved into your hair, to get a firm grip on your head.

"If I were you I wouldn't tease me that much," he grunted out as you continued your kitten licks on his tip. The dark glow in his eyes made your heart race and you quickly took him fully into your mouth.

Seonghwa was rather long and you couldn't fit him into you completely without choking. You did your best to take him as deep as you could but you already felt him hit the back of your throat.

"Am I too big for my small little girl?" he asked tauntingly, pushing you onto him just a tiny bit deeper, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You never knew you would enjoy the feeling of his cock pressing down your throat so much. But maybe it was just the general idea of him using you like he pleased that turned you on so much that your panties were already soaking.

Holding tightly onto your hair, he started fucking himself into your mouth. Seonghwa started off slowly but as you met his thrusts eagerly he sped up his tempo quickly. Soon your eyes fell shut as choked moans reverberated through your throat along his cock. Both your hands grabbed onto his thighs for some kind of hold.

Your whiny noises and the eagerness which with you sucked his dick surprised Seonghwa. He never expected you to be so into it, but as he watched you fall apart on his cock without even getting pleasured yourself, he soon started throbbing in your mouth with an impending orgasm.

Tugging firmly on your hair, he removed your lips from his cock and watched a line of spit trail down your chin as you opened your eyes. The fucked out look on your face almost made him paint your face in cum but he managed to hold back as he bend down to your face and shared a messy kiss with you.

"Didn't know you were such a hungry little slut," he said with glinting eyes before pulling you up from your knees.

You almost stumbled into his arms, your legs not quiet awake from being in the same position for too long. Seonghwa's strong arms caught you and pressed your body to his own for a short moment. The warmth of the embrace made you smile. His grasp held an intimacy that let your heart flutter in almost unbearably strong affection.

"Now you better hurry onto the bed before I ruin you on the carpet right here," Seonghwa rasped into your ear before shoving you off of him once again.

The strong command once again made electricity surge through your body and you hurried to the bedroom. As soon as you sat yourself on the bed and faced back towards Seonghwa he was already in front of you. His pupils blown wide in a state of desire that you had never seen him in before. He grabbed your face harshly between both his hands and shared a deep kiss with you as he hovered above you.

Your hands wound into his raven locks in response, sharing breathless moans as your tongues clashed with one another. One of Seonghwa's hands wandered down to the hem of your shirt and reading his thoughts you interrupted the kiss for him to quickly dispose of your shirt. Left only in a lace bralette and your tiny shorts Seonghwa devoured the sight of you.

"You were right, doll. You do look like such a innocent, fragile little thing to me." His eyes now landed on yours again. "That makes me want to ruin you even more."

He roughly pushed you down onto the bed before crawling over you. As he buried his lips in your neck you could feel his throbbing cock rubbing against your thigh, making you whimper under his touch. All you wanted was for him to touch you but Seonghwa had his own plans with you.

Sucking harshly on your skin he started leaving marks all over your neck. "You like that? Want me to mark you all over?" he asked in between two hickies.

"Yes, please Seonghwa. Make me yours."

Your enthusiasm only spurred him on. His hands started squeezing your breast now, playing with your nipples through the thin fabric covering them. You couldn't help arching your back and trying to rub yourself on his thigh to get some kind of friction where you most wanted it.

In an instant, Seonghwa's hands rushed down to your hips, pinning them against the bed. "Did I allow you to do that, doll? I thought you wanted me to have my way with you?" His eyes were down right intimidating as he looked at you beneath him.

"I'm sorry, Seonghwa. I'll do anything you want."

A small chuckle left him at your desperate response. He had you exactly where he wanted you.

"Strip," was all he said then and within a heartbeat you started removing your shorts and panties, followed by your bra. In the meantime Seonghwa also rid himself of his shirt, leaving you both naked.

He scooted down on the bed, slowly spreading your legs so he could lower his upper body in between your thighs. Looking up at you through his predator-like eyes, he made a show of dragging his fingers slowly over the skin of your inner thighs. When he started placing delicate kisses all around where you needed him the most you started shaking beneath him.

"Please, Seonghwa. Please just touch me."

"Want me here?" he asked tauntingly, starting to gently rub your clit with his middle finger.

"Fuck, yes!" The tiny amount of pleasure already had your lashes fluttering.

"But you want more right? Want me to destroy my little girl and have my way with her?"

You nodded frantically, not being able to bring out anything but whimpers beneath Seonghwa's grasp.

"Well don't make me stop now since you wanted this," Seonghwa said before burying his tongue between your legs.

You really never lied to him when you told him he was insanely good at eating you out. As his tongue circled around your clit, two of his fingers buried themself in your cunt and you closed your eyes in pure pleasure as he started pumping them in and out of you.

Usually he would work you up gently with only one, but after your confessions from today he was way rougher with you now. As a result you felt yourself being thrown towards the edge much faster. Your pleasure already starting to build up as his pace only quickened.

"I'm gonna cum," you warned him through heavy breaths.

But either Seonghwa was too lost between your legs or he didn't care because he just kept on lapping at your core when your high finally crashed down over you. You moaned out shamelessly and as your hips started trembling, Seonghwa pinned them down firmly with his arm.

"Please," you pleaded at him to give you a break but he didn't show any mercy to you.

"I'll make you come as often as I want," he spits at you as his thumb takes over his tongue in pleasuring your sensitive clit. "This is what you asked for, baby."

A mad smile spread on his face that let shivers run over your entire body before he lowered his mouth done again and buried his tongue inside of you. You had to close your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. All of a sudden, the overstimulation was taken over by lust again and you reeled towards another orgasm faster than you had ever done before.

"Fuck," you moaned before a few more firm circles of Seonghwa's thumb pushed you over the edge again. This time you didn't tremble but went full on limp beneath him. Your ears were ringing as the intense feeling rushed through your body. Faintly, you notice Seonghwa finally detaching from your core.

"Look at you all messed up and I haven't even fucked you yet," he snickered as he crawled on top of you. Seonghwa let his fingers graze over your cheek, taking in the beauty of your fucked out expression.

"You still feeling good?" he asked then in a slightly softer tone. But as soon as you mumbled a weak "yes" he was back to his demon self.

"I'll make you feel even better then," he said before slowly burying his hard cock inside of you.

At this point you were dripping wet but you still gasped at his size and the feeling of him finally filling you up. "Please, fuck me, Hwa!" you managed to beg him through big doe eyes and fluttering lashes.

Seonghwa moaned in return before starting to pound into you in a steady rhythm. He didn't go too fast but every single thrust hit you deep inside and soon you found yourself clinging onto his arms, as your life depended on it while he rearranged your insides.

Never had you ever imagined that asking Seonghwa to be rougher with you would give you this amount of pleasure. He was everything you had ever wanted and more.

As his pace increased you felt your head starting to swim more and more. Any coherent thought was lost to the way his hips snapped into you and his heavy breaths played like music in your ears.

"I love you, Hwa," you suddenly confessed through high pitch moans. You told him that quite often, but with the way you were buried beneath him, completely at his mercy, the words stirred something inside Seonghwa.

"Fuck, baby. Me too." His thrusts turned sloppy for a few seconds before he recovered a little. "You look so fucking perfect like this. I won't ever hold back on ruining you again, I promise."

You simply whimpered in response, unable to form a coherent sentence. Seonghwa lowered himself down to catch your lips in a desperate kiss while keeping up with his thrusts. Both of you were breathing heavy, but you still clung to each others touch as if your life depended on it.

"I'm close," Seonghwa moaned into your mouth between open-mouthed kisses. As his release neared, his eyes turned softer and he caressed your cheek with his thumb adoringly.

"Please come inside me," you pleaded him.

His eyes fluttered at your request. "Anything you want, baby."

And with that Seonghwa stilled deep inside you, groaning as his cum spurted into you. As soon as his cock started twitching you came one more time. This time it felt warm and comforting as Seonghwa held you so tightly and stayed deep within you until you stopped trembling. You wanted to stay like this forever: him buried deep beneath you and nothing on your mind but pure bliss.

When you finally recovered a little, you caught his lips again for a few more lazy kisses. "You were fucking amazing, angel," you praised him in between kisses.

"All this and you still call me angel?" he joked but you knew he didn't mind. His eyes only held love and adoration as he stared down into yours.

Slowly, he pulled out of you and laid down beside you before pulling you into his chest to rest. "I really wish you had told me earlier. We missed out on a lot."

"I don't mind catching up," you answered with a chuckle.

I wrote this over a long time span so I'm not too happy with it but I hope you still enjoy!

[imaginespazzi]

Part 4: Warning Bells

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

I don't think I can do this again (do you remember it too?)

(In which a self-admittedly all over the place writer takes you on a bit of a rollercoaster)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff, Angst, Pining (the usuals)

Words: 6.1K

TW: Swearing, Mentions of Divorce

A/N: Hi lovelies :) Guess who made a deadline again? I'm as shocked as y'all are but I do wanna just warn y'all that August is gonna be really busy for me so as much as I'm gonna try to stick to schedule, there's a pretty good chance I won't. I really appreciate y'alls feedback with live-reacts/long reviews and it's truly the motivating factor behind my writing so pretty please keep sending them. I did edit (as usual) but please let me know the most likely existent typos anyway. As always, let me know what you liked, disliked and what you wanna see next. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3

March 2033 

Here’s what Azzi has learned about motherhood: having kids means that there will come many times in your life, when you will look around you and wonder how the hell did I get here. It’s that thought that’s currently plaguing her as she finishes hanging up the WELCOME HOME banner on the living room wall in her ex-girlfriend’s new apartment. And when she’s talking about kids, she’s not talking about her five year old who’s currently sticking purple hearts on every surface she can find. No, she’s talking about her 6’5 teammate who she’d once “adopted” as a joke in college, but who’s basically become her surrogate child ever since they’d ended up on the same WNBA team. 

It had started as a casual conversation when Jana, as she often did, had shown up for an impromptu lunch. The topic of Paige was hard to avoid considering it was Stephie’s favorite subject, heightened by the fact that Paige was coming back soon and Stephie was far too excited to finally have her Miss Buecks back. Jana was more than happy to indulge the little girl in conversation about what Paige had been like at UConn. And if Azzi had lost herself in those memories for a moment, transported back in time to a world that had once been blooming with promise before wilting in a darkness she’d created herself, well, she’d done an excellent job not letting it show on her face. 

The real issue had started when Jana had casually let slip her idea of surprising Paige with a little welcome party. And as Stephie had started reciting all the different things they could do -because of course me and Mama will help you Aunty J, Azzi had glared at Jana, only to receive an innocent smile in return that told her everything she needed to know. She’d been set up. 

That’s how, instead of spending her Saturday curled up on her comfortable couch with a book in her hands, Azzi is here instead and in true fashion, she’s the only one actually getting anything done. Jana, who had just left about twenty minutes ago to pick Paige up, had invited some of the other girls on the team to come help out yet, something about more hands on deck. Those supposed helpful hands had spent the last hour blowing up and popping balloons and getting nothing else done.

“I can’t believe y’all have me decorating for the woman who cost me my first national championship,” Joyce laments, “I still have nightmares from that game.”

“You gotta let that hurt go Aunty Joy,” Stephie says impishly, mimicking what Jana would normally say whenever the infamous 2025 South Carolina vs UConn national championship got brought up. 

“Don’t sass me Miss Stephanie,” Joyce sticks out her tongue at the little girl, throwing a purple balloon at Stephie’s head, “hasn’t your Mama taught you that we don’t mock people’s pain.”

“Ignore her Steph,” Tessa says, bumping her former Gamecock teammate as she shares a devilish grin with Azzi’s daughter, “she’s just upset she only won one. Some of us have two.”

Joyce guffaws, throwing another balloon, this time aimed at Tessa, “dude we’re supposed to be on the same team. What would Coach Staley say to you teaming with UConn people of all things to bully me?”

“She’d thank me for making sure you didn’t get a big head,” Tessa snipes back. 

Whatever response Joyce has to that quip is cut short by the doorbell ringing and Azzi feels her heartbeat quicken as Stephie lets out a squeal, dropping everything to go answer it. Things had been different since the facetime call almost two weeks ago. They’d accidentally on purpose settled into a routine where Stephie would call Paige at exactly 7 p.m. and Paige would answer on the first ring, promising to stay on the phone till the little girl fell asleep. And it would’ve been fine if that’s all it was. But then Paige started staying on the phone till after Stephie fell asleep and suddenly it was like they were back to their teenage selves, talking about everything and nothing, trying to learn every page of each other’s story all over again. 

Azzi had missed so much about Paige in the last couple of years but there was nothing she’d missed more than just talking to her best friend. She’d missed the way Paige would tell a story, going off on a million tangents in between. She’d missed the way her eyes would light up when she got to a particularly exciting part of the story, specks of gold shimmering in the blue like sunlight hitting the ocean. She’d missed the way Paige’s hands would be flying animatedly all over the place, even when she was whispering. She’d missed the way the blonde would pause halfway through to observe if Azzi was still listening, making sure all of the attention was still on her. And she’d missed the way that when it was Azzi’s turn to speak, Paige would hang onto every word like it was gospel, intently listening like she’d never forgive herself if she couldn’t recite everything Azzi had just said from memory. She’d missed the way Paige would let her emotions freely flicker across her face, because whatever happened to Azzi, Paige felt it too. 

She’d missed and missed, convinced the pain would be the end of her, until she’d tricked her mind into forgetting. And now Azzi’s beginning to realize that remembering it all again, might just be the thing that kills her. 

“Nevermind,” Stephie walks back to the room, sulking slightly, “it’s just Aunty Liyah.”

“Oh thanks Stephie babe. That makes me feel so wonderful,” Aaliyah says, walking in behind Stephie with an offended expression on her face, “and here I thought bringing cupcakes would make me popular.”

“Tell me those are store-bought Chavez. I ain’t trusting them if you made them yourselves,” Joyce says, side-eyeing the cupcakes. 

“Trust me I would never waste my precious time baking for y’all ungrateful ass-”

“Aaliyah,” Azzi shoots her younger teammate a sharp look.

“-ungrateful people,” Aaliyah corrects sheepishly, “cupcakes because y’all clearly don’t appreciate me.”

“I pre-ciate you Aunty Liyah,” Stephie says innocently, trying to get a better look at the aforementioned cupcakes, “you got the pu-ple ones right? They have to be pu-ple for Miss Buecks.”

Aaliyah bends down to Stephie’s level to show her the box of sweet treats “the perfect purple cupcakes for your Miss Buecks. How come you never wanna do nice things like this for us Stephie?”

“Because Miss Buecks is special,” Stephie retorts matter-of-factly.

“Oh so we’re not special?” Tessa asks, raising an eyebrow at Stephie.

“‘Course you are but Miss Buecks is special-er.”

And while her teammates all pretend to dramatically gasp at that, shaking their heads at Stephie, Azzi feels like someone’s squeezing her heart, twisting and twisting but never fully breaking it. She wonders if that might hurt less.

It’s another 10 minutes later when the doorbell rings again and Azzi watches her daughter’s face break into an incandescent grin, filled with hope, as she rushes to open the door because it has to be Paige this time. Azzi follows after her, trying to keep her breathing under control as anticipation clings to her nerves. Azzi’s gotten so spectacularly good at lying to herself that she tells herself this next one with ease: there’s not a single part of her that’s eager to see Paige again. 

“SURPRISE,” Stephie screams, flinging the front door open with as much strength as she can muster. She doesn’t give Paige a chance to react before she’s throwing herself against the blonde’s legs, hugging her thighs. 

It takes a second for Paige to register what’s happening, but when she does, it’s Azzi she’s looking at. Everything seems to move in slow motion as they stare at each other, the reality of the moment suddenly settling in. Paige is here. In Oakland. They’re going to be teammates; they’re going to see each other almost every day. Just like they used to. Except nothing is like it used to be and as that bitter truth comes up like bile in Azzi’s throat, she has to force herself to look away. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie calls out, tugging at the hem of Paige’s white shirt to get her attention, “do you like my surprise?”

Paige tears her eyes away from Azzi, leaning down to pick Stephie up before peppering her faces with kisses and making the younger girl squeal in delight, “best surprise ever.”

And Azzi really, really, can’t watch this. Not when it makes her want to walk over and cocoon herself in with the two of them, makes her want to pretend that she’s living in another life, one where she hadn’t thrown away the chance of a happily ever after with the girl she’d fallen in love with at fourteen, 

“Oh yeah Stephie, your surprise. Take all the credit. Not like the rest of us did anything,” Joyce rolls her eyes goodnaturedly, before pulling Paige into a one-armed hug, “welcome to the Bay Area Bueckers.”

Tessa and Aaliyah are next, both sharing warm hugs with their new teammate. Once they’ve had their turn, all eyes seem to turn to Azzi expectantly and the brunette blanches under their gaze. Other than Jana, who suddenly seems pretty heavily interested in the doorframe, the rest of her teammates don’t know about her past with Paige. So it’s only natural they’d expect her to greet Paige with all the cordiality of an old friend. 

“Y’all good?” Joyce asks slowly, looking between the two of them, “do you want me to introduce y’all or?”

“Shut up,” Azzi murmurs before drawing in a deep breath and stepping towards Paige. She tries not to fixate on the way Paige’s jaw flexes when the blonde swallows, tries not to think about all the patterns she’d once carved against that little patch of skin because she knew it drove Paige insane. The thing is Azzi can’t even really remember the last time they hugged beyond a for-the-cameras one at a game. But as she wraps her arms around Paige, the older woman’s breath tickling against her ear as she grips Azzi’s waist, it doesn’t feel that much different from how it used to be. Paige’s arms are still safe and strong and Azzi still wants to melt into them. But what’s different is that Stephie’s in between them now, tiny hands securely fastened around both of their necks. And Azzi almost, almost gives into the feeling of belonging as she whispers two simple words that mean just a little too much.

“Welcome home.”

***

Seven pairs of eyes watch as the movers move box after box after box into Paige’s apartment, until there’s more cardboard than floor visible. The three non-UConn girlies are wide-eyed as they watch the pile grow endlessly. Meanwhile Jana is laughing while Azzi tries to hide a smile behind her hands as the realization that she’d have to unpack all of her stuff hits Paige in waves, and her expression grows more and more somber. Once the movers are finally done, it’s Stephie, whose hand is still firmly clasped in Paige’s, who breaks the silence. 

“You have a lot of things Miss Buecks,” the little girl crinkles her nose, as she points out the obvious, “do you really need all of this stuff.”

“Of course I do Stephie,” Paige says indignantly and Azzi scoffs, earning her a withering glare from the blond. 

“Aight well it was nice to meet you-” Joyce starts, slowly backing away from the mess until Jana blocks her way. 

“Oh no you don’t. I told y’all we were all gonna help her move in. Call it team bonding,” the Egyptian says, her voice vaguely threatening. 

“Most of the team isn’t even here,” Aaliyah points out cautiously. 

“That’s not the point,” Jana rebukes, “alright team listen up. Here’s how this is going to go-”

“Maybe Paige should take charge. It is her apartment,” Tessa says slowly. 

“If we put Paige in charge she’ll tell us all to go home and procrastinate doing anything until after the season,” Azzi says, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. 

Paige pouts, “hey! I’m not that bad.”

“Oh you absolutely are.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“O-kay,” Jana claps, breaking apart the bickering, “it’s good to see the two of you are apparently younger than Stephie,” she holds up a hands a both Paige and Azzi start to splutter in their defense, “now as I was saying before being rudely interrupted. We’re gonna split this up. Joyce and I are gonna do the living room. Aaliyah and Tessa, y’all are gonna fix the guest room. Which leaves,” Jana smiles, and it’s only because Azzi knows her so well that she can read the menacing sparkle behind it, “Paige and Azzi to tackle the master bedroom.”

They both open their mouths to protest but are quick to get cut off by an excited Stephie, “I’mma help Mama and Miss Buecks!”

“Of course you are, why would you ever help anybody else? Clearly you don’t love us anymore. Not since your precious Miss Buecks got here,” Joyce says dramatically and while Paige smirks and the rest of the girls pretend to act mock offended, Azzi uses the distraction to sidle up to Jana. 

“What the fuck are you playing at El-Alfy,” she hisses under hear breath.

Jana shrugs innocently, “the master bedroom is the hardest because Paige has so many fucking clothes so I’m letting y’all old heads do it. Some of us are below 30 ya know.”

“Cut the bullshit,” Azzi snaps. 

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about Fudd,” Jana says airily as she starts to unpack a box, leaving Azzi muttering curses under her breath. 

“Hey-”

Azzi spins around at the soft voice, only to find herself crashing against a solid body. It’s instinct, the way Paige’s hands immediately reach out to steady her and it’s instinct, the way Azzi’s hands grab at the lapels of the blond’s shirt. Goosebumps trails up her skin as Paige's breath, hot and heavy, fans across her face. They’re too close; way too close and yet the idea of stepping away feels like a sin. Azzi gulps as her thumb accidentally brushes Paige’s collarbone and the other woman shivers under her touch. She thinks she could probably get drunk off the feeling of knowing that she can still affect Paige like that. 

“You uh-” Paige swallows, fingers squeezing involuntarily against Azzi’s hip, “you don’t have to listen to Jana. I can- I can figure it out myself.”

“N-no,” Azzi stutters and she wonders if Paige feels a high from the way she still affects Azzi too, “there’s um- you have- uh- you have a lot of stuff. I can-,” she sucks in a deep breath, “I’ll help.”

“You sure?” there’s a vulnerable edge to Paige’s tone and any resolve Azzi could ever have melts immediately. 

“I want to help,” she says softly, letting a small smile slip onto her lips. 

The smile she gets in return is bright and sparkling, just like Paige herself and Azzi’s heart lurches, pleased to be the one receiving it, pleased to be the one who’d elicited it, “Good, cause I really wanted your help.”

Azzi shakes her head, trying to ignore the warning bells blazing in her head at the fact that they’re still holding each other, “why’d you pretend you didn’t?��

“I just wanted to hear you say it first,” Paige says, biting at her bottom lip. It leaves a light mark and Azzi finds herself wanting to soothe it over with her own tongue.

She thinks it might have been easier if it was just a little harder to fall back into Paige. It shouldn’t be so simple to fall back into late night conversations, so simple to fall back into easy teasing, so simple to fall back into feeling at peace in Paige’s arms. But it is. 

“Mama, Miss Buecks,” it’s Stephie who breaks their bubble but instead of jumping away from each other like they should, they step apart only enough to let the little girl into the space between them, so she can lace her hands through both of theirs, “are you ready?”

“Before you go Paige,” Tessa calls out, holding up a clear bag of corner guards and edge protectors, “what are we doing with these?”

Paige shuffles her feet nervously, “you um- you put them on the edge of like tables and stuff.”

“Bro but they’re for people who have children?” Joyce says, giving Paige a weird look, “you have a kid we don’t know about?”

Paige’s eyes flicker to Stephie for a brief second and Azzi freezes, a warm realization tickling up her spine. Butterflies erupt in her stomach, their wings fluttering to the beat of what’s mine could have been ours. 

“Of course not. I’m just super clumsy so precautions and all that,” the blond explains, shooting Jana a glare when the taller woman barely masks a giggle, “quit procrastinating by asking all these questions and get to work.”

“Has anyone ever told you the importance of first impressions? Because I’m telling you Bueckers, using your teammates as unpaid labor the first time you meet them is not it,” Aaliyah gives Paige a pointed look. 

“This wasn’t even my idea in the first place,” Paige defends. 

“True,” Tessa nods with a sickly sweet smile, “but you’re gonna pay for the pizza anyways.”

“I’m not pay-”

“PIZZA,” Stephie squeals, “Miss Buecks you’re gonna get us Pizza?”

“Yeah Miss Buecks,” Azzi smickers, crossing her arms as Paige’s stubborn retort dies on her lips, “you gonna get us pizza?”

Paige glares at her before she’s swinging Stephie up onto her lap again. And she really needs to stop doing things like that because it’s not remotely good for Azzi’s mental health to watch the way Stephie seems to fit perfectly in Paige’s arms, “of course I am Steph, what do you want?”

The two of them are lost in their own world discussing pizza toppings as Paige starts walking over to the master bedroom, until suddenly they're both turning around, looking at Azzi with identical expressions. And the brunette feels her heart tap out this could be my everything against her ribcage. 

“You coming Azzi?”

“Mama, are you coming?”

I’d go anywhere with the two of you, Azzi thinks as she nods her head, a light skip in her step as she moves to catch up with the two of them. 

“Of course I’m coming.”

***

Less than 10 minutes into trying to unpack, Azzi realizes that she’s the only one trying to unpack anything when she looks up from where she’s been folding t-shirts -trying and failing at not breathing in their familiar scent- to find Stephie decked in a colorful cardigan that goes all the way down to her toes, her feet clad in a pair of PB4’s that must be three times the size of her own shoes. A pair of Louis Vuitton sunglasses hide almost her entire face as she strikes pose after pose and Paige diligently takes pictures of her. 

“YES Stephie,” the blond indulges, “work it girl. There you go babe, hold that pose for me. You’re a natural in front of the camera.”

Stephie giggles and Azzi feels her heart constrict. Her favorite sound in the whole world has never sounded more like a signal for danger. 

“Ahem ahem,” she coughs, narrowing her eyes at the two people in front of her, “doesn’t look like y’all are unpacking to me.”

“Mama Miss Buecks has so many pretty clothes,” Stephie gushes, completely ignoring what her mother just said. 

“They’d look even prettier folded in her closet,” Azzi says pointedly. 

Stephie pouts, “you don’t think I look pretty?”

“You look really pretty in my clothes Stephie,” Paige cuts in, tapping the little girl on the nose before she turns her gaze towards Azzi, “just like your Mama used to.”

The silk material shirt slips out of Azzi’s hand as Paige’s words drizzle around her, like the rain after a drought. It takes every little bit of strength she can muster to force herself to ignore Paige’s words and pick up another shirt to fold even if she can’t stop the rouge tint that colors her face. There’s this part of her that’s been dormant for years but every little interaction with Paige threatens to awaken it and Azzi’s scared that if she lets that happen, she’ll never be able to put it to sleep again. 

“Just- just focus on unpacking,” Azzi mutters darkly. 

She spends the next hour or so, keeping her eyes downcast, her complete focus on the task at hand. Because if she looks up, if she lets herself see the way Stephie and Paige are folding clothes together while giggling about something, if she lets herself see the way Stephie climbs onto Paige’s back so the woman can give her a piggyback to the closet to deposit the folded clothes, she thinks she could fall in love with this moment, capture it behind her eyelids and let it live there forever. But this moment doesn’t belong to Azzi. Because Paige doesn’t belong to Azzi. Not anymore. 

Azzi’s taken away from her thoughts when she feels a tiny hand wrapping around her neck from behind, Stephie’s warm body pressing against her back and just like that, all the tension in her muscles seem to dissipate. 

“What’s up sweetheart,” she asks, turning her head to press her lips against her daughter’s temple. 

“Nothing Mama,” Stephie says sweetly, “just wanted to give you a hug.”

“Sure you’re not just trying to get out of helping Miss Buecks unpack?” Azzi asks slyly, pulling Stephie from behind her, so the little girl’s lying on her lap instead. She can feel Paige’s eyes focused on the two of them and even without looking, she thinks she knows what she’d find in them if she did. 

“Of course not Mama,” Stephie grins and then squeals as Azzi begins to tickle her. 

“I think you are,” Azzi sings-songs as she continues to poke at her daughter’s stomach, reveling in the way it makes the child laugh. 

“N-no Mama stop, stop,” Stephie manages to wrench herself out from Azzi’s grip, darting to hide behind Paige’s legs, “Miss Buecks save me.”

“There’s no saving you now Stephie-bear,” Azzi roars dramatically as she picks herself off the floor, smirking at her daughter as she wriggles her fingers menacingly. 

“You know what the best way to stop someone from tickling you is Stephie?” Paige says slowly, sending the little girl a conspiratorial wink.

“Don’t you dare-” 

“You tickle them back,” Paige yells and Stephie eyes widen with excitement, “did you know your Mama’s extremely ticklish?”

“Paige no,” Azzi starts moving back, hands held in surrender. 

“You started it.”

“Yeah Mama, you started it.”

“Paige. Stephie. Ple-” Azzi cuts herself off with squeal as two sets of hands start mercilessly prodding at her ribcage. She can’t get away, not when Paige has her securely wrapped from the back and Stephie’s pressed against her front, both of them laughing maniacally. They’re a mess of limbs that’s becoming harder and harder to tell apart as the three of them topple onto Paige’s bed. And Azzi thinks maybe she doesn’t want to escape it at all. She thinks she’d like to freeze them in this moment instead. Forever. 

“Pizza’s here,” someone yells from the living room and it’s Stephie who stops first, immediately jumping off the bed at the mention of food, leaving Paige and Azzi alone. On Paige’s bed. Barely an inch of distance between them as they try to catch their breath. It’s Azzi who sits up first, smoothening the wrinkles on her shirt. And just as she’s about to stand up fully, she feels a hand circling around her wrist. 

“It’s gonna be weird being alone tonight,” Paige confesses softly and Azzi feels her breath hitch.

“Didn’t you live alone in Dallas? At least after the divorce?” she tries to keep the bitterness out of her voice at the last word, a bitterness she knows she has absolutely no right to feel. 

Paige shrugs, her shoulders brushing against Azzi’s, “I did but I knew Dallas. I don’t know this place.”

“What exactly are you asking me?” Azzi asks even though she knows. 

“I’m not asking you anything. I don’t know if I have that right anymore” Paige says softly, letting go of Azzi’s wrist as she starts to walk towards the living room, turning her head back slightly once she gets to the door, “I’m just telling you I don’t wanna be alone tonight.”

***

Damn Paige Bueckers and her vulnerable eyes and her earnest tone because Azzi would, really, really like to be enjoying her slice of pizza right now. Instead everything tastes like ashes as Paige’s unsaid plea rings in her head. There are so many reasons why Azzi absolutely shouldn’t give in, why she should grab Stephie, get into her car, drive home and never look back. This involuntary dance the two of them are starting is far too familiar to what they’d done when they were teenagers and the vivid memories of the day the music stopped and they’re feet stopped moving still haunt Azzi every time she lets herself think of it for a little too long. And she shouldn’t push herself into this fire again, not when there’s Stephie to think about, but there’s a tiny little problem. She thinks she might be addicted to burning in Paige’s flames. 

So when the pizza’s done and the house is more or less in order, and her teammates are ready to leave, looking expectantly at Azzi, she finds herself leaping into lava, “um- I think Stephie and I are gonna stay for a little bit longer.”

“We are?” Stephie asks, a huge smile stretching the length of her face as she looks up at her mother. 

“Yeah. Um- Paige’s bedroom still um- still needs some work,” Azzi tries to justify her decision, ignoring the heat of the blond’s eyes that seem to be perpetually stuck staring at her. 

Joyce raises a perplexed eyebrow, “it looked done to me.”

Paige clears her throat, “there’s definitely uh- a couple more things that need to be handled.”

“It’s almost Stephie’s bedtime. I could stay and help-” Jana begins, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.

“No,” Paige says, a little louder than necessary, “I mean you’ve already done so much for me today Jana,” she manages a smirk, “let Azzi pull her weight a little bit too ya know.”

Janna narrows her eyes but doesn’t push it. It’s oddly domestic, standing side by side with Paige bidding goodbye to their teammates, Stephie in between them happily waving at the people that are leaving. The warning bells get louder and louder; Azzi continues to do nothing to stop them. 

“Mama, how long are we staying?” Stephie asks innocently. 

“We um-” Azzi chews at her lip, finally giving into the temptation to look at Paige, “we’re gonna stay with Miss Buecks tonight so she doesn’t feel alone.”

The shrill scream that escapes Stephie’s mouth could probably break glass as she turns herself around to grab at Paige’s waist, “Miss Buecks I’m gonna stay with you! We’re gonna have a sleep-over.”

Paige laughs, kneeling down so she’s face to face with the little girl, “yeah we are.”

“Are you scared to sleep alone too Miss Buecks?” Stephie asks cautiously, cupping Paige’s face with tiny hands. 

“Just a little bit,” Paige admits, leaning into Stephie’s touch. 

“Me too,” Stephie whispers shyly, “that’s why I sneak into Mama's bed and she gives me lots and lots and lots of cuddles. Mama’s cuddles are the best,” she turns to Azzi, “Mama will you give Miss Buecks cuddles tonight too?”

“I uh-” Azzi swallows, taken aback by the question, “I thought you didn’t like sharing Mama’s cuddles?”

“I don’t,” Stephie agrees, “but I’d be okay sharing them with Miss Buecks.”

***

Azzi had planned -a loose term because really she hadn’t planned on any of this- for her and Stephie to take the guest room. Paige had been ready to give up her own room on the grounds of politeness. And Stephie was insistent that she needed to sleep in between both Mama and Miss Buecks tonight because it’s a sleepover we all have to stay together. Obviously out of the three of them, only one of them was going their way and it didn’t take a genius to figure out who that would be.  That’s how they’d ended up here, dragging chairs and pillows and blankets into the middle of the living room to create a makeshift fort. 

Azzi’s putting on the finishing touches, stringing purple fairy lights Paige had produced out of nowhere, when Stephie emerges from Paige’s bedroom where she’d gone looking for something to wear in lieu of pajamas. 

“Mama look what I found,” Stephie beams, proudly pointing at the black t-shirt she’s found that covers her whole body, “it’s you and Miss Buecks when you were littler.”

It’s their SLAM cover t-shirt and Azzi feels tears prickling at her waterline as she’s met with the picture of a younger version of the two of them. Back when they’d been so hopeful and carefree, ready to take on the world as long as they could do it together. Back when they’d been 2 in a million.

“I can’t believe you still have this,” Azzi whispers, unable to stop herself from running her fingers across the version of who they used to be. She wonders what those girls would think of them now; those girls who’d laid and bed and pinky promised forever. She thinks they’d probably be appalled at the fact that Paige and Azzi had spent eight years barely speaking. She thinks maybe they’d hate her for what she’d done. She thinks maybe she hates herself a little bit for what she’s done to them. 

Paige is leaning against the wall, her voice quiet when she speaks, “I couldn’t let it go.”

And they both know she’s not talking about the shirt. 

“Can we watch a movie?” Stephie asks, diving into the fort and peering up at the two adults. 

Paige recovers first, “yeah- yeah of course Steph,” she looks at Azzi, “do you- do you want something else to sleep in?”

“I’m good,” Azzi says, trying to inconspicuously brush away a rebellious tear. The shirt she’s wearing feels itchy against her skin but she doesn’t think she could handle wearing something of Paige’s. She scooches into the fort, leaning back against one of the pillows and Stephie’s quick to curl into her and Azzi absentmindedly rubs her hands down her daughter’s back. Paige switches on the TV, letting Stephie dictate a movie choice before letting herself into the fort, laying down on Stephie’s other side. 

“Miss Buecks come cuddle,” Stephie demands from where her head is laying on Azzi’s chest. When Paige hesitates, the younger girl takes it upon herself to pull Paige’s arms over her, making the older woman lie on her side so she can drape her hands over Stephie's stomach, accidentally brushing against Azzi’s ribcage. Stephie lets out a satisfied sigh, lying back down against Azzi, crossing her arms so she can hold Paige’s hand with one and latch onto her mother with the other. 

“Perfect.”

And it is. The sound of Stephie’s chatter slowly fading away mixed with Paige’s quiet breathing is the perfect lullaby and Azzi finds herself drifting off into the best sleep she’s had in years. 

***

Sunlight peeks in through the window and Azzi groans at the interruption. Her whole body feels a little stiff, not used to sleeping on the floor like this. A quick glance at her phone tells her it’s 7 a.m. and Azzi’s just about to let herself fall back asleep when her eyes land on the two sleeping figures next to her. Stephie’s face is buried in Paige’s neck, one arm slung over her waist. Paige, mouth slightly ajar as she sleeps, has both hands fastened on the younger, holding her tightly against her chest like she’d fight the world if someone tried to steal her from her grip. They look happy, content, at peace. And Azzi can’t breathe. 

The warning bells in her head create a cacophonous commotion that she can no longer escape. It hits her like whiplash that she can’t do this. She doesn’t know what had gotten into her last night, why she’d agreed to this, to any of this. But she can’t do this. 

“Stephie,” Azzi whispers urgently, trying to pull her daughter out of Paige’s grasp, “Stephie wake up.”

“Az?” Paige asks groggily, stirring in her sleep, “what’s going on?”

“We need to go home,” Azzi says and she can’t bear to look at Paige. 

“What?” Paige is far more awake now as she glances at her phone, “it’s 7 am Azzi. What’s the rush?"

Azzi ignores her, still trying to wake Stephie up who groans, “Mama too early.”

“Steph-”

“Azzi,” Paige’s voice is firm as she wraps her hand around Azzi’s wrist, slipping Stephie off of her, “what is going on.”

Azzi grits her teeth, “nothing’s going on. We just need to go home.”

“Azzi-”

“We shouldn’t have stayed last night Paige,” Azzi bursts out and Paige freezes. 

“Come out of the fort Azzi,” the blond says, her voice eerily calm as she stands up. Azzi follows after her, heart beating rapidly against her chest as she tries to keep the tears at bay. 

“We need to go home,” the brunette repeats, struggling to breathe, “this was a mistake,” Paige flinches and Azzi feels a knife turn in her own hurt, “we can’t do this.”

“Do what Azzi?” Paige asks exasperatedly, still trying to keep her voice low for Stephie’s sake. 

“This,” Azzi all but shrieks, throwing her hands up, “it’s too much, too quick and Stephie- Stephie’s getting attached and I can’t- I can’t let that happen.”

“Why not?” Paige argues stubbornly. 

“Because these last two weeks she couldn’t fall asleep without you on the phone. Because you’re all she talks about sometimes. Because she’s gonna want you forever,” Azzi’s voice breaks, “and she can’t have you forever.”

“Az-”

“And you’re getting attached too. I see the way you look at her and it’s amazing but it’s not- it’s not sustainable Paige. For either of you. Because you’re gonna find someone soon,” the words taste sour on Azzi’s tongue, “and you’re not gonna have time for her and missing you is going to kill her and the guilt of that is going to hurt you. I’m trying to pro-”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Paige’s voice is hard now, eyes gleaming with fire, “you’re basing all of this on a hypothetical that might not even come true. You’re not protecting anybody. You’re projecting.”

Azzi reels back, “I am not projecting.”

“Yes you are,” Paige hisses, “you’re not scared of Stephie or me getting too attached. You’re scared of yourself getting too attached.”

“Mama? Miss Buecks,” Stephie’s tired eyes look warily between the two of them, “what’s going on?”

Azzi plasters a smile on her face as she picks up her little girl, trying to pretend that the truth in Paige’s words haven’t just made her feel hollow, “we’re going home Stephie.”

“I don’t wanna go home,” Stephie fights against Azzi’s grip, looking helplessly at Paige, “Miss Buecks I wanna stay. Can I please stay?”

“You have to listen to your Mama sweetheart” Paige says softly, heartbreak written over her face as she moves to press a kiss against Stephie’s knuckles, “but I’ll see you soon okay. I promise.”

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whimpers and Azzi has never hated herself more as she rushes out of Paige’s new house, willing herself to not look back. She buckles Stephie in the back, pretending she doesn’t see the way Paige is watching them leave from the porch, like she’d do anything to stop it. And then she drives away. 

It isn’t until she’s safely in the confines over her own room, that Azzi finally lets the tears fall. And she consoles herself with the fact that it’s okay to crack her daughter's heart, to crack Paige’s heart, to crack her own heart, if that’s the only way she can stop their hearts from breaking altogether.

[talaok]

can you write actress!reader and their daughter visiting pedro on set or pedro coming back home and surprising his daughter after being away filming please

i just love dad!pedro fluff

Warnings: surprisingly a touch of angst but really just a pinch I promise

“Hi,” you smiled, greeting Craig “Thank you for doing this”

“Of course” he reassured you “he talks about you all the time anyways, and… this way he’ll probably want to get scenes right, right away so it’s a win-win” he joked, making you chuckle.

Suddenly, you felt a tug at your hand.

“Sweetie, say hi”

Your daughter looked up at Craig, her dad’s big brown eyes cute as ever.

“Hi,” she waved, or at least tried to, wave at him.

“Hi there honey, you’re bigger each time I see you”

“‘S not true, I’m always the same,” she said between giggles

“Oh no you’re growing my friend,” he said, crouching down to her level “Next thing I know you’ll be taller than me”

“But that’s impossible“ she laughed

“We’ll see” Craig teased, getting back up to you.

“We should go”

__ __ __

"Heard that sweetie? we have to be real quiet now" You whispered as Craig led you onto the set

"Can you do that?"

She nodded, and you couldn't help but smile to yourself, she would have never been this obedient if not for what she knew was about to come.

"Here" Craig murmured as he closed a heavy white door behind you "We should almost be done with the scene"

You followed him until he stopped right in front of a little screen that showed what the camera was filming.

The scene had already started, and it followed Pedro as he walked around a makeshift apartment.

He had sent you pictures of him in character before, but seeing him in real life was much different.

They had made streaks of his hair and beard white, and he was wearing a black and green flannel that looked approximately a hundred years old.

You liked this rough look, he didn't believe you when you first told him, but seeing him now only made you more sure. He looked hot, and you made a mental note to tell him later.

Your daughter's hand was still gripping yours, but her eyes were wide with amazement as she watched her own daddy at work.

She had been down the whole day. It was a beautiful sunny Saturday and no matter what you tried to do with her, read her her favorite stories, bring her to the park, make the swing fly real high like she begged you do to each time... nothing worked, and only once you set her down to talk, she had confessed what was wrong all along.

She missed her dad.

You already had half a mind that's what it was, but you weren't sure, and when she finally told you, you felt your chest warm a bit.

Of course she did, just as you did,

Pedro had been really busy with this project, and he tried to be home as much as possible, God knows how much it pained him too, but today was Saturday, and he usually never worked on weekends, and as much as your daughter was used to not seeing much of him during the week, they used to spend every waking moment together on Saturdays and Sundays, and she didn't like the change of routine, not one bit.

The recalling of your morning was suddenly interrupted by a loud "Cut!"

The silence that filled the air before was gone in a second, as seemingly everyone rushed on set.

"You wanna go again?" Pedro asked who you assumed was the director.

"no we got it, it was perfect"

"great" Pedro smiled, starting to walk off the set, but the moment he did, something caught his attention.

"Daddy!"

You glanced beneath you, and to your amusement, your daughter wasn't there, instead, she was running towards your husband.

“What?" Pedro's eyes widened, but he wasted no time crouching down to catch her as she ran right into his arms "Peach?" he asked, hugging her tight while standing up.

"Hi" you smiled walking up to them

"Sweetheart!? what is happening?" he said, beaming

You shrugged, caging a grin between your teeth "We missed you"

And at that, he had to pause, his glimmering eyes glancing between the two loves of his life.

"I missed you so much Daddy!" your daughter joined, her pigtails hitting Pedro's cheek as she hid her face between his shoulder and neck.

"I missed you too angel" he promised, stroking her back and kissing her hair "Missed you a lot" You took a step closer, taking his free hand in yours and placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

"hi," you repeated yourself in a quiet whisper

"Hi" he smiled, kissing you again

"Hey!" your daughter suddenly interrupted, making both of you chuckle.

"sorry baby" you excused yourself, leaning away "he's all yours"

She made a satisfied sound before her eyes started attentively examing Pedro's face.

"you look old" she stated, making you snort.

Pedro feigned a gasp, clearly stifling a smile "What did you just say to me?"

Your daughter giggled “you look old, daddy”

“I can’t believe this! You don’t see me for a day and already think I look old!?”

“Your hair is white!” she laughed pointing at them.

“I can't believe this!” he kept up his farce, obviously entertaining her “I’ve always looked like this! Since when do you not like my hair?”

“‘S not true” she shook her head, still chuckling ” This is not your hair”

“It sure is”

”No it's not, you have brown hair like me daddy!” She protested ”tell him mommy!” She called for your help, turning to you.

”You’re right baby” you reassured her

”See? Mommy says I’m right”

”Alright, alright, you caught me” Pedro smiled, giving up ” You’re too smart angel” he kissed her cheek, starting to walk towards some chairs off the set.

Your daughter stayed gripped around him like her life depended on it even as he sat down.

”so did you have fun today?” he asked, setting her on his knees.

“Me and Mommy went to the park”

“That’s nice” Pedro smiled, stroking her hair.

“I wanted you to be there” she suddenly pouted, and you saw the look in your husband’s eyes. You saw how much those words affected him, how much they pained him.

“I know” he said “I’m sorry”

“I’ll make it up to you sweetie”

“How?” she asked, with that sassy tone she had recently discovered.

“Tomorrow, we’ll do whatever you want”

“Anything?” her eyes sparked with mischief

“Anything, peach” he promised seconds before she nestled into his chest again, hugging him even tighter.

— — —

In just twenty minutes, your daughter's soft snores started making their way to your ears.

You smiled, watching her sleeping so peacefully on her daddy’s shoulder.

“You spoil her too much” you teased, your fingers gently playing with Pedro’s ones as you set beside him.

“How could I not, have you seen her?” He whispered, still petting her hair.

A familiar smile spread on your face, but before you could fully take it in, a small sigh fled your lips.

“She misses you, Pedro,” you said, your eyes finding his, and in them, a somber understanding.

He already knew. And it destroyed him every day.

“I miss you” you added with a small frown.

He turned his palm to hold your hand, a small gesture, a small -I’m here-

“I know” he spoke after a brief moment “I miss you too”

You nodded, a quiet understanding passing between you.

“I’ll never work on weekends again,” he said

“Pedro that’s not in your control” You shook your head

“I don’t care, I’ll stand my ground” he murmured, his thumb drawing patterns on your hand “I can’t go on like this sweetheart, I want to be there for you, for both of you, and I’m tired of not doing that, I’m tired of missing you all-day baby” he whispered, frustration tracing his words.

You rested your head on his shoulder, a small -I’m here- of your own.

“I know” you spoke, softly rutting your head against his shoulder “It’ll be alright, we’ll find a way”

“Thank you for doing this” he murmured, feeling like the luckiest man in the world sitting between you “I love you”

“I love you too baby” you smiled, leaning up to give him a quick kiss.

And immediately, even if still asleep, your daughter's small arms tightened around his neck possessively, a small “daddy” escaping her lips.

You chuckled, as Pedro absolutely melted at the image

“She’s such a daddy’s girl”

[gigglesandfreckles-hp]

@jilymicrofics august 7: domestic

She looks like a sunrise, sitting up on the counter, one knee pulled up to her chin, the other leg dangling toward the floor. She’s wearing James’s oversized jumper, the sleeves pulled down over her hands as she takes a long sip from his father’s favourite mug, her gaze fixed on the window. It’s what affords James this moment at all, leaning against the wall of the kitchen, watching her.

“Is that mine?” he finally says, because the only thing better than seeing her like this is seeing her when she looks at him.

A bright smile lights up her face as she turns her head. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He smiles at her in response, stifling a yawn. “You’re up early.”

Lily holds up the mug, her hands almost disappearing in the sleeves of his jumper. “I smelled coffee.”

“Dad definitely made that for you,” he says, chuckling. “Neither of my parents drink coffee. Surprised they’ve even got it in this old house to tell you the truth.” He glances around the kitchen, smaller than what he’s used to at the main estate. The truth about this ‘old house,’ though, is that James has always loved it a ridiculous amount.

“Where are they anyway?” Lily asks, pulling her other leg up onto the countertop.

“Market,” James says. “Mum goes every Saturday morning of the summer when we’re at Godric’s Hollow. Seems she took Dad along today.”

Lily smiles fondly, then her grin grows. “So it’s just the two of us? With this whole house to ourselves?”

James chuckles and walks over toward her. “This ‘whole house,’ hm? Pretty sure I cross the length of it in ten steps or so.”

“I like it here,” she says, her fingers tracing the edge of the worn wooden countertop.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She sets the mug down and hops off the counter, her bare feet landing softly on the worn wooden floor, and walks toward him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. “In fact,” she says, her voice muffled by his shirt, until she stands up on her tiptoes and drops her lips to his ear, “I like it so much I’d like to live here one day.”

James stiffens, his arms tightening around her waist. “Is that…right?”

“Mhm,” she murmurs, “so maybe put a bug in your parents’ ear now, yeah? Before you ask me to marry you.”

“Before—! Evans…what—”

She falls back down onto the balls of her feet and smirks up at him, self-satisfied. “Oh, please, James. I know you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, even as he feels his face burn. Shit, shit, shit.

She continues to grin. “I’ll let you have your secret, Potter. But can I at least know if you’ve already got a ring?” She takes one look at him and squeals. “You do! God, Potter, why are you so obsessed with me?”

It’s not completely true. He doesn’t technically have a ring in his possession, but he’s told his mother which one to set aside for when the time comes. And in moments like this, with Lily standing in the Godric’s Hollow cottage kitchen, putting ideas in his head about what forever would be like, were he to spend the rest of his days walking down the stairs to find Lily drinking coffee in his jumper on the countertop—well. It gets a little tougher each day not to make the time come right now.

[trulyumai]

Fall Baking

pairing: eddie munson / gf! reader

synopsis: it was finally fall. more rain, more sweaters. this also meant the return of the infamous, ‘Hawkins Fair.’ eddie could care less about it really, but you were ecstatic.

warnings: none, fluff only!

A/N: im baking like crazy right now so this automatically came to my head. I’m ready to drown in pumpkin bread and warm coffee.

Eddie knew you loved the fall.

When the leafs started to turn, the weather getting colder and sbittier than normal, yeah, that was when that thing happened to your eyes.

They’d get all shiny and well, cute.

He was the opposite. He could do without the hindrance of rain bearing against him anytime he wanted to take out the trash or walk to the corner store.

But seeing you so happy about little sprinkles of condensation made the man weak.

So he detested the cold weather a little less for you.

And you know what the cold weather brought?

Fall excursions.

Aka: The Fair.

“Guys, you’re not gonna believe this!” Slamming your lunch down on the table, your body molded against his in one solid motion.

Eddie grunted out in surprise, but it didn’t stop you from talking about the surprise you had in store.

“The fair is coming back!”

Only stares were given, Gaven looked over at Jeff who was returning the same empty, confused look.

Eddie jumped in with a clearing of his throat, being the best boyfriend ever he had to save the day, right?

“No way, baby!”

“Way!” You giggled, relaxing into Eddies hold as you dug out the celery sticks in your little box.

“And, the school is accepting student stalls, that’s gonna be so much fun!”

“Why is that fun— ow!” With a harsh kick to Gavin’s knee, Eddie changed the subject.

“That’s cool babe, you could do a baking themed one. Your treats are to dieeeee for.”

“Oh yeah! Been a while since I got the iconic Mrs. Munson brownies,” Gavin sighed out. Already imagining the pillowy, chocolaty goodness that was always oozing with warmth.

“That’s not what I named them.” You laughed, “Buuuut if you boys help me out with the stall I promise to bake one thing if your choosing!”

This garnered the attention of the hellfire club fast. Eddie was almost jealous at how entranced you got everyone.

“Anything?”

“Can you do cakes?”

“Ooooh the brownieees!” Almost everyone talked over one another, already fantasizing about the treats they’ll ask for.

“Uhhhh babe?” Eddies rings were cold against your thighs, your dark green skirt rid up against the tops of his legs, showcasing your pretty and soft skin.

“Mhm?” You replied, already turning towards your wild haired boyfriend.

“And what do I get? I mean I love your baking, obviously! but I can get that anytime.”

That was… true.

Damn it you thought you had everyone sinched into the plan. But of course Eddie would try to sneak something else into play.

“Well ummm,” he stumped you this time.

Furrowing your brows, you bit lightly on the inside of your cheek. Thoroughly searching your brain for anything Eddie might approve of.

Clothes? No, Eddie only wore his favorite staples anyway. Maybe you could offer to clean his room? No, you just did that last weekend when he was too busy snoring on the couch.

Think, think!—

“I knooow what I want.”

You knew that tone. That deep drawl that makes his voice come out in a low, teasing hush.

Eddie indicated you closer with just a wag of his index finger.

You felt the weight of his breath hit the side of your face, warm and light.

“I want,” he breathed in this time, dragging his lips closer and closer until they brushed against the side of your jaw.

“You, to spend the night, every nite this week.”

“Eddie!” Rolling your orbs you pushed his face away. “That’s kinda impossible. You know how my parents are—“

“Pretty please, sweetheart? It’s been forever!”

“I just spent the night on saturday!”

“That was literally forever ago.”

“Eddie.” Your fingers brushed with his temple, lightly pushing against them.

“That was two days ago.”

He only shook his head in rebuttal, moving his legs until your frame was once again close to his.

“My point still stands. Forever ago! And you need my help, who will keep these idiots in check?”

“Hey!” A few club mates responded back, but quickly went into their own baking conversations.

“Not all week. Two days,”

“Three!” Eddie challenged. With a mocking squint to your eyes you huffed out a breath.

“Fine! You win. Three days.”

“Yes!” Eddie cheered, smothering a sloppy kiss on your cheek and raised a hand to high five Gavin.

What a dork.

“You won’t regret this baby. I just got new snacks, cleaned my room—“

“You cleaned your room?”

Eddie cleared his throat and his long fingers came up to play with the loose hair around your neck.

“Well.. no, but it’s still clean from when you did it— ouch!”

Grabbing the man’s soft cheek, you began to pull.

“Hey hey, easy easy, I was just joking!—“

“Sooooo funny, Eddie.” Laughing, you watched as his fingers came up to the pinched spot, rubbing it with a soft tenderness like you had plucked the skin right off his face.

Grabbing at your celery you joined into the groups conversation. Trying to remember each and every goodie the gang wanted you to bake.

This is gonna be a long week.

But at least it’s fall, right?

….

Right..?

[silent-stories]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑 - 𝟐

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie finally works up the courage to talk to you again and he's not disappointed.

Part 1

"I'm sorry, I won't." You repeated for about the hundredth time as you placed some brushes in a jar and then on a shelf.

The lesson had been over for a few minutes and your classmates were getting ready to finally leave.

Aaron rolled his eyes as he washed his hands at the sink located in the corner of the art classroom, watching the water wash the red paint off his hands, coloring the liquid as it descended.

It almost looked like blood.

"Your parents won't be home for two days. Two fucking days, Y/N. And you don't want to have a party?" He turned to you with his usual smile he used when trying to get someone to do what he wanted.

It was not going to work with you.

"Well, I'm sorry. I'm not really one for parties." You shrugged.

Aaron had spent all of class trying to get you to throw a party on Saturday night since your parents were away for the weekend, your house was big, and you had a pool.

Aaron insisted. "But it will be fun. We can invite your friends, Jason and his team and-"

"Aaron, c'mon. Even if I had this stupid party, I wouldn't invite those people."

They were the last people you wanted to see at school, let alone invite them to a party.

"What's wrong with Jason? He's been one of the first people I've talked to since I moved here, besides you, and he's a really cool guy."

You liked Aaron, you had met him a week ago when he asked if you knew where the art class was and you had accompanied him, saying you were going there too, but sometimes he would say things that would skyrocket your want to slap him.

Over the next few days you'd gotten closer and closer and you'd noticed how most of the girls – and even some of the boys – watched Aaron at school.

He was new and that equaled interesting, he was blond and green-eyed, which for many cheerleaders equaled cute.

You also suspected that many of them were jealous that he was spending so much time with you instead of them.

Anyway, you didn't like him that way, of course you had to admit that he respected the canons of beauty to which people paid attention, but there were things more important than how symmetrical someone's face was.

"Cool? Do you want me to make you a list of all the reasons why I don't like that asshoke? He's selfish, obnoxious, vain, a bully....should I go on?" You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Nah, I'd like to listen to all your reasons but I have to go, honey. I'm going out with Jason and his friends later." He said running his fingers through his blond curls.

You raised your eyebrows, still hoping you misunderstood what he said.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I told you, they're cool guys."

"Like a stick up your ass."

Aaron burst out laughing. "Y/N, c'mon!"

"What? It's true!"

Aaron shook his head before grabbing his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow, okay?"

He smiled at you as he usually did, showing his perfect white teeth and rested a hand on your arm for a few seconds.

His smile was sometimes frighteningly reminiscent of Billy Hargrove's.

One thing you couldn't stand was the way he was always touching you. One arm around your shoulders, one hand on yours or your arm.

It always seemed like something too intimate, like the way he called you "honey" all the time, but you thought maybe it was your problem.

"Yeah, bye." You placed the last rags covered in color stains in their appropriate drawer.

"And think about the party!" He yelled before walking out the door, leaving you alone in the classroom.

"I won't!"

Eddie lingered in front of art class, watching some students leave after the last bell of the day rang and wondering why he suddenly had no idea how to start a conversation.

The last one to leave the class was the boy he had seen you with the day before, the one Dustin said was Aaron and that he wasn't your boyfriend.

As he walked out of the classroom, his gaze briefly met Eddie's, who was leaning back against the wall thinking about what he could do or what he could talk about with you.

And that look, it was definitely not the look of the nice guy next door who brings you cake as soon as he moves next to your house and offers to mow your lawn.

It was Jason's same look, it was the look of everyone who looked at Eddie as if he were trash.

It was the look of everyone who was sure Eddie was the leader of a satanic cult that no one would want anything to do with.

It was the same look as everyone who referred to him as a "freak."

Just the thought of you spending your time with that guy made Eddie think he had no chance with you and that he'd better go home and try to get over you. As if it was possible.

Suddenly, Eddie found himself alone in the hallway and for a moment he thought that you too had left the classroom and that he, too immersed in his thoughts, hadn't even noticed.

But no, it wasn't possible, he always noticed you.

He reached the threshold of the door and finally saw you, intent on moving a canvas in the corner of the room, on your hands there were still some traces of color that not even the water had managed to sweep away.

"Need a hand?" Eddie asked, surprising even himself.

You whirled on him, probably startled by the sudden voice but when you saw him, you smiled and Eddie almost forgot how to breathe.

"No, it's okay. I'm done. What are you doing here?" You asked as you grabbed a book off a table and stuffed it into your bag, before slinging it over your shoulder and walking towards him.

What was he doing there?

He wanted to see you, he wanted to hear the sound of your laugh and talk to you about any topic that crossed your mind because he was undoubtedly in love with you but too cowardly to tell you.

"Henderson told me you were here and I thought I'd come by and say hi."

He hoped it didn't sound stupid.

"Well, hi." You laughed as you walked out of the classroom, closing the door behind you.

Eddie watched you take a few steps ahead of you in the hallway before you turned to him.

"Are you coming or not?"

"Yeah, sure." He hastened to catch up with you.

"Today I'm walking home. This morning I woke up earlier than usual and it was sunny so I didn't use my car. Would you like to... walk me home?"

Eddie glanced at you to meet your sincere, hopeful expression.

"I don't live very far from here, don't worry." You added.

"Yeah, yes. Of course." He answered quickly, already kicking himself for letting you think that he didn’t want to go with you. He would have wanted even if you lived on the other side of the world.

You felt good spending time with Eddie.

You didn't quite know what it was but you felt the same sensation you felt when you sat in front of a fireplace in winter with a blanket on your legs and a book in your hands.

It was a feeling of calm and tranquility. You felt like you were really being listened to when you talked about the things you liked, that you weren't judged and you simply felt safe when you were with him.

It wasn't the same feeling you had when you were with Aaron. It was not even close.

Before you rounded the corner in the hallway, Eddie heard voices talking to each other.

"Wait, um-" Eddie didn't know how to say it. "There's  someone. It's okay if you don't want to be seen with me."

It was like a reflex, a habit. No one wanted to be seen with him other than the Hellfire kids and his friends in his band.

His words hit you like a knife and your heart started bleeding for that sweet boy you barely knew.

All those years he'd spent being treated like he didn't deserve to, like no one would ever deserve, like a freak, had made him think that no one would want to be seen even to talk to him.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair for all of Hawkings to judge a person they didn't even know for who he really were.

"It's okay, Eddie." You you reassured him as you rounded the corner, finding two cheerleaders talking to each other.

And Eddie, hearing your simple words, for a moment really thought that everything was okay. That there was no social barrier to divide you, that you were really friends and that he had the possibility to become something more for you one day.

He also liked the way his name sounded when you said it.

As you walked down the hallway, Eddie suddenly felt your fingers brush his and when he realized it wasn't by mistake, your hand had already met his and you intertwined your fingers with his.

Strangely, Eddie didn't catch his breath or start sweating like he did whenever you were even near him.

He wasn't even nervous anymore. But he smiled.

He felt as if someone had lifted a weight off his chest and now he could breathe easier, as if with your hand in his everything could really be fine.

When you passed the cheerleaders your hand was still holding his, stready, secure, not letting go.

When you got out of school you kept talking all the way home and every time Eddie heard the sound of your laugh he wished he could record it so he could listen to it whenever he wanted as if it was his favorite song.

You only let go of his hand when you arrived in front of your house.

"And then I told my uncle that I'd found a job, but I actually sat on the sidewalk every day downtown and played my guitar with a hat on the ground hoping someone would leave me a dollar." Eddie finished, noting that he was talking to you about personal facts that few other people knew about.

"If I had known, I would have come and left you a few bucks, you know." You commented.

"I was twelve, Y/N. So you were ten. I don't think you had much money to waste at that time." He laughed.

"When I was a kid I had ice cream almost every day. I could have given you my ice cream money."

Eddie smiled. "Would you have given up your daily ice cream for me?"

"For you, that and more" You chuckled as you opened the gate to your house. "Thanks for walking me home." You added.

"Anytime, I like hanging out with you." Eddie still didn't understand where he had found all that courage.

One corner of your mouth curled up. "I like it too."

"See you at school, then?" He asked.

"See you at school, Eddie." You repead before disappearing behind the door of your house.

He stood there for a few more moments, even getting a glare from your neighbor watering the flowers in her garden.

When he said 1986 was going to be his year, maybe he'd been right.

Part 3

I thought I'd write a part 2 and stop but... I kinda like this. Maybe a little series will come out of this?

Who asked to be tagged in the second part will also be tagged in all the other parts so if you want to be removed, let me know <3

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat

Love you from afar tags: @capitanostella @enam3l @saramelaniemoon @ang3lb44by @einkitty @themorriganisamonster @esme-viridian @daisyridleyyyy @whenshelanded @eggo-segual @comfortcharactercraze @callmeyn @expiredcum21 @unholyyylita @squidscottjeans @twilight-love-nochu-main @idkatee

[yooglefics]

Reveal — Part two: editing

Pairing: Yoongi x fem!reader ( camboy!yoongi x camgirl!reader )  Wordcount: 1,735 words Genre: 18+, mdni, remainder to not use fanfics as your only source of sex ed. Summary: Yoongi is just helping a friend help you, but is he even supposed to listen to this?. Part 2 of Reveal: recording. Read it for context. This is just why and how we got to that ending. More warnings under read more.

Includes: Mentions of selling sex content. People recording sex acts. Mentions of sexual activity ( doing things and also talking about doing things and thinking about doing more things ). Mentions of past and not past masturbation ( f and m ).  Dirty talk? I guess?. Sprinkle of possessive yoongi? Is not my fault i sweaaaar Author's note: Remember when I started writing something short and silly lmao, what a time. Btw, I have never used OF so if something I say about how they use the website is actually not true / completely wrong just pretend please lmao. Anyway, I thought it'd be fun to write Yoongi's side, hope you like it! If you do please remember to leave a comment, reblog, ask, follow and what not. Thank you for reading <3

Saturday is probably Yoongi's favorite day of the week. No waking up early, no work, and not worrying about having to do any of those the next day.

That's why he groans when his phone rings with messages from Jungkook. He knows is him because he is the only one who still insists on sending him a million messages instead of just one. 

Love the guy, but he can be annoying.

The fifth ring comes and hopping is the last one, Yoongi finally reaches for his phone and rolls to his back. 

JK: hey JK: are you awake? JK: and free today? JK: i need a favor JK: yoongi?

Yoongi: with what? If I have to leave my house is probably a no.

Both of them know that actually, even if it ruined his plans of relaxing, he would say yes. Because that's what friends do.

JK: no no. You can do it at your house  JK: I need to edit an audio for my friend JK: but I'm on the schedule today JK: and if I don't send it back quickly she will back out JK: please? 

Yoongi: ok. Send it to me. Yoongi: you own me, tho.

Throwing his phone on the bed, he gets out of it to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, getting ready to sit in his studio for at least an hour. He knows is probably a bit extra to use his expensive equipment for whatever this favor is, but if he is going to help, he is going to do it right.

Opening Jungkook's messages on his laptop, Yoongi almost wants to laugh at himself.

JK: [ killmepls.mp3 ] JK: is and OF thing, btw JK: don't listen to it in public lol

Yep, definitely Poducer Min equipment is too extra for this. But, fuck it.

The archive is already downloaded when he opens the software, starting a new project and naming it the same as the audio plus final, to not get confused. Plugging in his headphones he starts playing it, already noticing whoever this is, is pretty quiet at the beginning and he would most likely have to cut it off, still, he listens to make sure.

A few taps followed by a “hi..” is the start, and he chuckles at their giggles.

He decides to let that in, but cuts the next few seconds where only their breathing can be heard along with some clicking and fabric moving. Is too long of a pause for this kind of thing and the clicking gives a way they weren't ready to start. Sure they wouldn't mind.

They put music on? It sounds familiar but is pretty fade out, so he can't really be sure, and then “This angle is kinda…” 

That's him.

That's his voice.

“Hot,” the voice continues before he can rewind.

“You can't tell me I'm mean anymore. I'm spoiling you,” his own voice travels again on his headphones. “I'm giving you this view and I'm giving you what's probably the thing you all ask the most: hands.”

What is this? Some kind of joke?

Did Jungkook put them up to this?

“I hate him. I'm gonna sue him,” 

That gets a laugh from him, even if he is still confused about what is happening.

Maybe it's just his imagination?

Should he ask his friend?

More movement of fabric. Maybe bed sheets or clothes. More breathing, a bit faster than last time and then, a groan. 

He can leave that in.

Wait, that's right. He is supposed to be editing this. He has to go back and…

“This angle is kinda…” his voice says and he hits pause. Is really him. Is that possible?

He feels like he is imagining things.

“Jungkook, I swear if this is some kind of joke or something,” he rambles taking his phone out.

Yoongi: did you listen to it?

JK: no, didn't have time JK: why? something wrong? JK: don't tell me it can't be used JK: she is gonna be sad :(

Yoongi: who is she?

JK: dunno if i can tell you 

Yoongi: technically I'm doing a favor for her. I think is fair 

JK: good point JK: is afterhours(y/n)

He opens a new tap on his laptop, goes to the website and searches for the username through his followers. And sure enough there it is. Subscribed a month ago.

He clicks to see your perfil. The first post he can see without being subscribed is a picture of a lilac lingerie set on a bed with the caption “very early birthday present”, from a week ago. 

He considers subscribing to see more, but he stops himself from clicking, remembering Jungkook didn't even want to tell him who you were. Oh, shit. What would you do if you knew it was him editing your audio? Would you back out? Or be sad?

Now it feels kind of wrong, like if he were invading your privacy.

He clicks around on his computer again, audio track back to the zero seconds mark. He hears the “hi” and the giggles and stops it before his voice appears. 

“Okay, this is going to be posted. It was recorded with the intention of being posted for people to hear,” he reasons. “If it's not posted I'd just forget about it and if it is… I'd… subscribe? To make up for listening?”

Clearly that part is not completely made up on his mind, but he doesn't have to decide what to do right now, he has to finish editing. And so, Yoongi clicks around the software again, cutting and deleting another section, the one where you can hear his voice and even his music before.

That's it. It was a familiar track because it is his. He composed that himself to put in the background of his videos exclusively. He figured putting his own touch would help if something was posted outside his page, never imagining hearing it in the background of someone else's video or audio was even possible.

It shouldn't affect him this much. After all, people touching themselves to his videos is half the reason he likes making them. What can he say? Is a turn on to have that effect on others, it builds his confidence up.

But actually hearing it is different. 

Groan and fabric moving, a bit too close to the mic he considers doing something about it, but “I want you to touch me,” is the perfect whisper. Just the right volume, just the right words.

No more audio of SugaD can be heard now, you probably turn down the volume of the video or pause it. Yoongi is curious about it. The idea of your sounds being a reaction to his past self is doing things to him, and Yoongi would like to ignore them before getting too distracted, but is kind of a boomer not knowing exactly what your reactions are for.

Maybe he can open his video, it wouldn't be hard for him to synchronized it with your audio and—

No.

That would cross the line. Is enough that he—

“Are you hard?” your voice continues, timidly he thinks. 

Is this your first time doing this? That's why you couldn't edit yourself?

What would you do if you knew he was listening and his dick was calling for attention at all your little sounds?

He stops your recording, considers taking a break, going back to bed. But he knows just forgetting about this would be hard and in the end he would have to come back and finish helping.

He unpaused it.

More moans echo throughout his headphones and he fixes them on top of his head, as if that would help him concentrate. You just sound so pretty, and when you plead he wants to give you anything you ask for, his dick twitching with desire.

He could just— no. That'll be wrong. Is enough he is letting it affect him this much, he can't just—

His leg bounces under his desk, hand glue to his mouse even when he is just listening now. Only stopping and going back a couple times to fix the volume of background noise, making it less or more obvious depending on the flow or your moans.

A groan of his own cuts the silence in his studio when you form words again. “It feels so good, oh god.” And Yoongi wishes he knew what. Wishes he could see you, could touch you. Could make you sound and feel that good in person.

“Uh uh,” short moans leave your lips, and it sounds so much like you're agreeing with his thoughts he really considers sneaking a hand down his pants. Allow his mind to wander and imagine what you would look like under him. Or on top. Or just coming undone by him.

But he doesn't. He just listens to your recording, your breathing, your pleas and your cut out warning when you cum.

“Fucking hell,” Yoongi angrily whispers. And for a second he considers doing the SugaD special of cutting it out of the final audio, but that's too selfish.

Or perhaps is more selfish leaving it. Considering he wants the world to hear how you sound when listening to him.

Yoongi managed to leave the studio without touching himself. But is not really as impressive as it sounds since his hand is on his dick the minute he goes back to bed after listening to the final edit of your audio one last time. The excuse of being just to make sure is perfect is just that, an excuse. And your pretty sounds replay on his head while he jerks off until orgasm.

JK: thank youuuu JK: she says thank you too!

Does that mean you know he was the one editing it?

He opens the app on his phone, looks for your perfil again and debates a couple minutes his options. 

What's the worst that can happen? You blocking him? He would understand, but if he actually doesn't do anything, doesn't play his chance, he wouldn't forgive himself.

And so, he subscribes. Page refreshes instantly and a new post greets him.

[ afterhours(y/n):

Surprise, surprise. Is my birthday month but I keep spoiling you, ain't I the best? 😝 

      [ VoiceReveal.mp3 ]

                                                                         ]

Doesn't even have to listen to it, his fingers move on their own, “the cutest”, he comments.

♡ Tag list: @m00njinnie , @sexytholland , @seoullove96 , @thelilbutifulthings , @disneyprincessshuri ,

( is hereee! I appreciate u guys hehe <3 ) ( if anyone else wants to be tagged in the future, let me know )

➪ Part one. | ➪ Part three. | ➪ Updates for this verse | ➪ Ko-fi

➪ Main masterlist. | ➪ Updates in general | ➪ Request & chats ♡

[heartofjasmina]

Yaaay the return of the queen! Hope your travels were lovely and safe.

Anyway, back to pervy Shameless Saturday business (but fluffy bc I like to freak it sensitive style): imagine going soft dom on Shoji. It's not something he ever thought himself wanting, thinking he needs to always give. But when it happens and you're treating him so sweetly and calling him a good boy and making him feel oh so safe and loved, this burly stoic absolute unit of a man just melts right into it and realizes he NEEDED this.

Aww thank you nonnie! ♡ My travels were exhausting but so so worth it. Life outside of the states is much slower and forgiving, and I miss it already tbh lol.

Shoji believed since he was a small child that he was built to provide for others. When he grew up, and grew to be bigger than most, he cemented this belief as all of his partners expected such protection and guidance from him.

But those relationships fizzled out as quickly as they had begun, for a reason Shoji couldn't put his finger on. He just felt used up in those relationships. Drained, like he was giving more than he had.

Then he met you, and for the first time he's questioning his beliefs about himself.

You buy him flowers, you leave him sweet notes in his lunch box when he goes off to his hero agency, and you even give him massages when he's had a hard day.

It flusters him at first, first because he's unused to this amount of attention, secondly because he finds he likes it.

In bed it's even worse. You have him boneless and submissive in a way that fuels you to continue, because you're finally seeing the true nature of your giant boyfriend. Behind all the service top energy he's been giving you since you first started dated there's a sweet boy who just wants to be praised and manhandled a bit.

So when you tie his hands together behind his back and take your time sucking him off, throating his shaft until he's crying, all he can think of is how greatful he is to you.

With every orgasm you pull from him, with every "good boy" that leaves your lips with a breathless, hungry tone, every session of aftercare with you-- he's restored. No longer drained, but poured into with all the love you can muster.

Now, pro hero Tentacole finally realizes he's built to pour into others and have them do the same in return.

[schemmentis]

Revelation - Pt. 2

Pt. 1

Warnings: Depiction/Talking of Anxiety & Depression

Word Count: 1.7k

By the next night, Melissa has had an entire existential crisis. She practically bullied poor Jacob from the living room without meaning to. Seeing him, though, had only reminded her of the previous night's realization and made her decidedly not want to spend time with him. Lest he find something else to say to tip her world upside down all over again.

She's already dreading Monday and being in the same room as you. Except…that's really not true. She's always happy to see you. She just isn't sure what to make of this shift of her understanding of her own feelings. She hardly wants to risk losing you in her life. You have a wonderful relationship. You're her closest friend. She doesn't see Barbara outside of work half as much as she does you.

If she sees you Monday and can't pretend things are as usual, you'll know. You've always been able to read her better than most. Even in the early days of getting to know each other. Now that she's spent the last day or so thinking over practically every moment spent with you since you met she realizes that's part of how you got so close. You were always ready to see beneath the surface of her reactions and responses.

You never let her standoff nature deter you or intimidate you before she accepted you would be around Abbott for a long time as opposed to the others that went in and out. You didn't like all the same things but the things you did you enthusiastically shared with her. The things you didn't, you still appreciated that she liked and would entertain or participate in those things with her. Just because she liked them.

Melissa slumps at the head of her bed with a groan. “Schemmenti, you are so fucked.” She mumbles into her pillow. Not the first time since yesterday she's thought it but it is the first time she's said it out loud.

She's worried about seeing you again, nervous. Still, she knows at the end of every day she'd choose to spend time with you anyway. So, her only choice is to just…see what happens. Melissa Schemmenti hates just seeing what happens. She hates surprises.

Her groan sounds again when her phone rings from somewhere next to her. It's already too late on a Saturday night to be getting called. Double too late when she's been working herself up with thoughts of feelings all day.

She lifts her head enough for one glaring eye to see her screen. The sight of a photo of the two of you you'd insisted on taking, and setting as your contact photo in her phone, lighting up her screen makes her sit up. It's definitely too late for you to call her.

Quickly, she's swiping the accept call button with her thumb. “Hon?”

She hears the sniffle after your quiet ‘hey’ in greeting. She doesn't bother asking if you're alright. She already knows the answer. “Do you need me to come over?”

“It's late…”

“That's not what I asked. Yes or no, Hon?”

She's about to pull the phone away from her ear to make sure she didn't accidentally hang up when you finally answer. “Yes, please.”

“I'll be there in ten, I'll use your spare to get in. Just hang tight for me.” She answers as she pushes away from her bed. She lets you be the one to end the call as she pulls on a hoodie and grabs her car keys. She doesn't bother telling Jacob she's leaving.

With the hour, she makes it to your apartment in eight. She plucks the spare key from its potted plant hiding place and lets herself in. She locks the door behind her, setting the key and her purse to the side table nearby.

She frowns slightly as she glances at the living room and kitchen as she pass through the short hallway to your bedroom.

What feels like forever ago, she had told you about Joe. The aftermath of her marriage and how it made her feel. You'd both been drinking that night but neither of you were drunk. She'd been just tipsy enough to feel comfortable sharing, at least with you. In return, you'd shared your own struggles with depression and anxiety.

Your apartment is not dirty. It's perhaps the normal level of weekend disarray. There are only a few dishes at the side of the kitchen sink. That she would guess is from breakfast. The blankets on your couch aren't folded.

It isn't really messy but Melissa knows these small things aren't like you. You tend to be on top of even these little things since you learned the mess of things can increase your anxiety about your depression worsening. It's small, but she notices.

“Hey,” she greets softly when she steps into your bedroom. She catches your answer, muffled by your blanket held to the lower half of your face.

Melissa sits on the edge of your bed, her legs swinging up to sit properly next to you. As if she has a hundred times before. “C’mon,” She coaxes softly, her hands waving you to her.

After a moment, you shuffle closer to her. Instantly, her arms are around you, holding you to her. You adjust to share your blanket with her.

She scoffs when you attempt to quietly apologize. “Don't give me no apology, Sweetheart. I don't need one. You called, I answered, huh? That's all there is to it. You'd have done the same for me.”

She nods at your soft agreement. You would have. Without question.

“You wanna talk about it?” She asks, in a whisper that sounds more like she's shared a secret.

“I don't know what happened.” You sigh, glad for the way she squeezes her arms around you in reassurance. It lets you feel like you can keep speaking. “Game night at yours was fun and I told myself when I left I'd get home and finish grading those quizzes from Thursday so I wouldn't have to worry about them all weekend. The next thing I knew I'd just been sitting around and scrolling on my phone until late. I figured I'd get up and do them this morning but…”

“Hard day to get outta bed?”

“Something like that. I just kept thinking of everything else I needed to do too and then what if come Monday I still can't even get myself to get up and then the kids will—”

“Shh,” Melissa cuts you off gently. A hand rubbing against your arm to soothe at the same time. “It's okay. You aren't gonna leave the kids like that. I know you. And it's okay to take a day or two off once in a while anyhow. But instead of worryin’ ‘bout Monday, let's worry about right now, alright? Right now, you're gonna stay right here with me and relax. Take a deep breath with me, Hon?”

You do. Following the pattern of Melissa's own breathing that is slow and purposeful. You let yourself slowly start relaxing at her side.

“Good.” She praises quietly when you keep your breath in time with hers. Even after the one requested deep breath. “We’re gonna stay here, and if ya need to talk it out more then I'm here to talk it out with or just listen. Or I can talk ya little ear off until you fall asleep. We’ll worry about everything else tomorrow.”

“I have no idea how your kids stay awake during story time.” You tease her gently, smiling into her shoulder.

“Why’d you think I only read to ‘em when they're real good?” She answers easily. You can hear the smile in her own voice.

“Thank you. For being here.”

Again, Melissa scoffs. “I don't need thanks any more than apologies, sweetheart. I've got you.”

You resolve, as you fight your eyes closing to sleep, that you'll be there whenever Melissa calls you too. No matter the hour. It's only whisper to tell you to not be ridiculous and sleep that has you actually giving in to rest.

When you wake the next morning, Melissa isn't next to you. The distant sound of rustling from your living room tells you she didn't go far though. You bring yourself to rise from your bed, vaguely noticing your full laundry hamper is gone from the corner of the room.

You dont think too hard on it though. You're not fully awake and it wouldn't surprise you if you moved it and forgot. Yet as you continue out to the living room, you do begin to question.

The dishes are washed and on the drying rack on your counter. The fruit bowl you keep for the mornings you don't plan well enough for breakfast so you have something quick is in its usual spot. Though the counter has been cleaned around it and a few of the pieces of fruit you noticed turning are gone.

You turn to see Melissa curled up on your couch. Nestled comfortably in the corner of one of the arm rests. The blankets are folded and laid across the back of the couch. The quizzes you meant to grade this weekend are in a pile next to her.

“Mornin’ Hon.” She greets without looking away from the paper she's marking. She finishes grading that particular students quiz, setting it to your coffee table. The stack on the table, the stack you realize is the ones she's graded, is much larger than the few left next to her on the couch.

“Mel, you didn't have to do all this.”

The hand holding one of your red pens waves your statement away. “It was nothin’. I woke up a little early and couldn't get back to sleep. I figured I could take a little off your mind. So I did.”

You pluck one of your other red pens from the coffee table, claiming the last few quizzes as you sit next to her. “Alright but I'm helping you finish, at least. Then we're going to breakfast.”

“You're gonna bribe me with pancakes to walk around the farmers market at this ungodly hour.” Melissa says. It isn't a question. She already knows it's exactly what's going to happen.

“Yes.” You admit with no sign of regret before you set about finishing the last few quizzes.

[thetravelingtyper]

On The Same Page pt2 (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader Bookshop! AU)

After a recurring nightmare, you and Sam decide to open the shop early...only to have an early arriving customer.

Part 1, part 3

Oh, the boy's a slag, the best you ever had

The best you ever had is just a memory and those dreams

Weren't as daft as they seem, not as daft as they seemed

My love, when you dream them up

You awoke with a jolt at your alarm, the cursed song striking once more before you could silence your phone. As you sit up the irony is not lost on you. Your dreams of late had been haunted by the caricature of your ex, some cartoon evil laugh chasing with the constant ringing of your phone. The dreams always ended the same, except for this last night:

He was upon you in a moment, clawed hand reaching up your leg. You kick and kick but the words never escape your sewn mouth. The words of your ex-coworker swarm you like angry flies, bold and ugly.

“Disgraceful”

“Stepped over for the CEO’s daughter”

“They were shoddy anyway…”

The voices all fade into your ex’s final words to you: “I never loved you anyway.”

That crushed your heart into ash and scattered it into the indifferent winds. But before he could drag you back, a shape formed in your conscience. Heavy boot steps silence the laughter and a large figure passes in your peripheral vision. In the haze of your dream, he passes the shelves, the bookstore emerging from the darkness to surround your ex and the harpies. 

Your panic slows in the familiar setting and with a kick you send your ex stumbling backward. Turning your face up from the hardwood floor you look towards the figure as the haze clears. It's a man, tall and in black, just browsing but something draws your eye. And as you feel yourself awaken his eyes, hardwood and honey, meet yours. 

You hear shuffling before there is a knock on your door. You call him in and Sam’s head pops in. Green eyes hidden behind black curls meet yours and he pauses upon seeing your slouched shoulders.

“Nightmare again?” He kicks a pair of jeans aside and enters your room.

You stand, make your bed swiftly, and turn to address him in the glory of your Rainbow Fish Pajamas. 

“Yeah, except there was a man this-”

“You got Soap on the brain again?” It comes out immediately and you flush before rushing forward to hit your older brother figure. He was and wasn't wrong. In the following weeks after Soap’s initial visit you found yourself developing a steady friendship with the Scot, who insisted on dropping in every other day. It started with recommendations but quickly turned into shared tea over book conversations. You learned a little about him in the meantime, finding out he worked as a bartender literally down the street from your little shop. The convenience of his closeness and his ease of personality found you a fast and steady friend. 

“-despite your obvious stupidity, no I do not like him!” You huffed, and it was true! Soap was handsome but in truth, you believed that one he was in a relationship and second he was better as a prospective friend. 

Sam grins, dodging your poor attempt to smack him as he spins out of your room,

“He is hot though, poor lad probably gets hit on every shift. Remember we promised to visit on Saturday night! Come on let's open up the store early. I have a good feeling about today!” And with a clap of his hands for you to hurry he closes your door, exiting down the hall towards the kitchen. In a moment you can hear him lighting the stove to make breakfast. 

In the resulting silence, you dress yourself, passing a reflection of yourself in the mirror and choosing to ignore it. Your laptop sits beside your current project: A Smith Corona Corsair, one of the few possessions you had brought with you. The typewriter was the start of your writing career and you kept it well-tuned for work. 

You run a soft hand over its polished ivory keys. The mint blue of the case had a few scratches but was mostly worn from love. You remember as a child hammering on the keys, which graduated into a curiosity for mechanical machines and writing. The stone kept tumbling after you finished your Master’s in English and first stepped into the editing business. In the topsy-turvy world you found yourself in a comfortable position as an editor for a company, a year in deciding to write your books and the rest was history. 

You close the typewriter and quickly change into a manageable but comfy outfit then head out into the hall. Closing your door, you head down the hallway of your small flat, passing photos from back home with Sam. Taking a right you pass into the open concept of the apartment (Sam’s room was straight across the hall from yours). You pad softly on the carpet, stepping onto the rug and into the kitchen where Sam is making breakfast. He flips a pancake as bacon sizzles on the griddle. Running a hand to his shoulder you lean over to see how it was coming, sufficiently satisfied at his improving cooking skills.

“You are learning well”

“I get it from the best” he replies pulling you in for a small hug and a kiss to the side of your head. He releases you at the ding of 8 am on the clock. 

“You want breakfast up here?” You hover over the cabinet of plates, proceeding to pull two out for the food with silverware following. 

“Nah, let's just open shop, I'll eat in the sitting area before cleaning the book return. Can you take the counter today?”

You nod and shift aside so he can plate the food. The Ghibli style meal looks filling and you sigh, you go to take a swipe at the fresh pancakes but Sam dances aside.

“Wait till we’re downstairs.” He follows it up by gathering the silverware and heading towards the stairs. You pout and go to open the door for him and proceed to follow him down the hardwood stairs.

---

You set up post at the counter by 8:11, a plate of food set aside the stack of holds. Some paperbacks gleam with a glossy finish, while other hardbacks are nice with matte coats. Before your eye moves away you catch the shine of antiqued gold. You gently move the top books aside to grab the fabric-bound hardback: Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Sea by Jules Verne.  It looked to be a 50s-60s American release, bound with an inner marbled coat of paper and inlaid with gold foil lettering. The deep aqua of the fabric was barely worn, you wondered if the book had ever been read at all with the great condition it was in. You looked inside the cover for a name but on a a shibu inu shaped sticky note were the initials S.R.

Huh, that's interesting. You ran a hand over the scripting, it wasn't Sam nor your handwriting. You shrug. They must be regular then. You and Sam had a ‘write and set aside’ policy in the store. 

It was an unspoken rule amongst the two of you (and the regulars) that if a book turned up on the counter like this, with a name, it was put ‘on hold’. You set the beautiful book aside with a final glance, then turned your attention to breakfast. 

After finishing your meal you opened the doors to the bookstore at an early 8:34 am. Turning back to the counter you head over and hook your phone up to the music. You flip through Your Love first then frown, the implications of the song a bit much, next Jessie’s Girl. At Rick Springfield’s voice, you sigh, flashes of the girl your ex dumped, and you turn the song again. Then finally the sweet guitar riff and a beat that puts you on your toes kicks up. From the back of the shelves, Sam's head full of hair pokes out.

“It's been a while since we've had a Bowie day!”

You smile back at him as Modern Love kicks up. You sway from around the corner and flip the sign to open, you turn on the neon sign and turn to go stock the sitting area when there’s an immediate ding of the bell as someone enters. You turn around as Sam calls a Welcome in from the back of the store. The first sight that hits you is a literal wall of a man, then there is the smell of worn leather and pine. You step back with a small oh in surprise. 

He wears all black except for a pair of well-fitting jeans and leather boots. As your eyes trace up his tall figure you catch a snug shift with a leather jacket fitted over. Then a black surgical mask and…you freeze. Looking down at you with a slight sense of amusement are eyes the color of darkened honey. 

The man from your dream! But in the flesh and oh…

“I am so sorry!” You wave your hand in front of you a little shy to be caught staring.

The man offers no more than a slight nod with amusement dancing in his eyes. He regards you a moment before mentioning in a low voice, rough but soft:

“No worries dove.”

And with that he steps around you, brushing your arm with the slightest touch of leather, and disappears into the books.

You stand for a moment more before a blush runs up your face and a tingle runs down your spine.

Fuck.

END

I love writing this. I am no longer bored in the library thank you to these lovely people (Taglist!)

@ghostlythots

[asunsetgrace16]

Hiiiii!!! Can I request literally anything written about Fraser Minten lol. I was thinking maybe she’s having a sleepover at his house for the first time and is a tad bit shy and nervous about them sharing his bed maybe with prompts 35 and 39 from your fluffy list???

Thank you so much!!!! I’m obsessed with ur writing

Saturday Sleepover ⎥ FM39

Pairing: Fraser Minten x fem!reader

Warnings: fluffyyyyy, one kiss (I think), one swear

Summary: Y/N stays over at Fraser's for the first time after their usual Hockey Night in Canada Saturday date

Notes: Thank you so much for the request! I love writing for Minty and there is a lack of Minty content on here. Hope you enjoyed!! Prompts 35: "That's my girl" and 39: "You're blushing" "No I'm not". I also made up the entire game except for the misconducts that were given in an actual Florida-Ottawa game last fall.

masterlist⎥ navigation

Word Count: 978

As per weekly Saturday tradition, Y/N and Fraser watch whatever hockey game is on TV. Both avid hockey fans and players, they both grew up watching Hockey Night in Canada, rooting for their teams with unabashed pride; Fraser for Vancouver and Y/N for Winnipeg. Occasionally, their hockey-watching dates are over FaceTime when Fraser is out of town for games and he often falls asleep, his phone dying overnight. 

Tonight, however, isn’t one of those nights. The Blades played a rare Saturday matinee game, ending just before four. This gave the couple time to make dinner before the start of the game. His billet family is away visiting relatives for the weekend, so it’s just the two of them. They settle in for the game with plates of spaghetti and salad. Ottawa is playing Florida tonight.

“This should be interesting.” Y/N comments, “nothing good ever happens when the Tkachuk brothers are on the ice together.”

“Very true. How many fights do you think will happen?” Fraser asks, half-Joking, half-serious.

“Oh, easily three or four.”

The game starts off fairly uneventful. No goals from either team and only a penalty or two. But you can tell the teams are chippy with each other. It's the start of the second when things finally amp up. It starts with a slash to the shins of Jakob Chychrun from Nick Cousins, sparking Brady Tkachuk to get involved. The refs are able to break it up before anything exciting happens. There is a pair of goals in the last 10 minutes of the first, so the teams are tied heading into intermission. The second follow is much of the same pattern; a goal for each team, a few minor penalties, and one scuffle. They had barely taken their gloves off before the refs broke it up, boring.

“ Boo.” Fraser says to the TV, “Let them fight, it’s more exciting that way.” 

Y/N laughs and rolls her eyes. But he's not wrong, “You just like to see Matthew stir shit up.” 

“You've got me there.” 

It's in the dying minutes of the third one Fraser gets his wish. A cheap shot from Carter Verhaeghe sends Parker Kelly into the boards awkwardly. He doesn't get up as both teams end up in the corner. Claude Giroux tries to pull Parker away from the fight. The rest of the guys grab each other and start fighting, well most of them anyway. Brady and Matthew are both in the mix. Helmets are off, gloves and sticks are scattered on the ice and the refs are circling. Parker got some help getting to the bench and is getting checked by a trainer. The fight goes on, eventually guys are in headlocks, jerseys are half off, and others are piled on the ice, still swinging punches. The refs break up the fight, sending the guys towards penalty boxes before dishing out the penalties. 

“Every player on the ice gets a 10-minute misconduct, except for the goalies and Ottawa number 27.”

Both Fraser and Y/N are staring, absolutely dumbfounded. Almost never do 10 players get game misconducts. 

“Well, there's the entertainment for the night.” Y/N quips.

The last few minutes pass quietly, the benches are looking very bare, five guys gone from one side and four from the other. Fraser has nodded off by the time the game ends, and Y/N isn't far behind. She turns off the TV and folds the blanket that she used. She sighs tiredly, looking around the dim room. Fraser’s half-asleep on the couch, all sleep-warm and face cast with shadows from the kitchen lights. Y/N moves about the room, gathering her bag and phone. She smiles softly, love in her eyes as she looks as Fraser. She wakes him gently, prompting him to go to bed.

“Just stay.” Fraser mumbles sleepily, yawning. 

“I…I don’t know.” Y/N hesitates, wanting to say yes.

“Please.” He interrupts, giving Y/N a soft, pleading look.

Y/N stays quiet for a minute, reaching out to brush a piece of hair off of his forehead, “Ok. I’ll stay.”

“That’s my girl.”

Y/N flushes, turning shy all of a sudden. She looks away, avoiding his gaze. They haven’t slept over at each other’s places yet, and it makes Y/N’s cheeks warm.

“Why’d you get shy?” He asks as they walk to his room.

“What? No I didn’t”

“Yes, you did. Look, you’re blushing.” He grins at her, poking her cheek.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. And it’s cute.”

Y/N gives him an exasperated look, she will never admit it but Fraser is right. It’s their first night sleeping over together so it takes an extra few minutes to get everything sorted. She is a little jittery, nervous to share Fraser’s bed with him. Her brain goes into overdrive as she tries to avoid making things weird. Fraser gives her a shirt to sleep in and he pulls on a pair of sweatpants. They stand on opposite sides of the bed, unsure of how to proceed. Sure, they have cuddled before, but usually that was on the couch or her cramped twin bed at school. Fraser climbs in, throwing back the covers and he holds his hand out for Y/N to grab. She takes it climbing into the other side. He pulled the covers over them, rearranging his pillow for optimal comfort. Y/N does the same, relaxing more as the minutes go by. Fraser reaches over and shuts off the lamp, sending the room into darkness. By the light of the moon, they face each other. Fraser pulls Y/N closer, giving her a sweet kiss on her forehead before tucking her into his chest. Before long, the couple has drifted off, wrapped up in each other’s arms like it's the most natural thing in the world.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 52

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 6k

Masterlist

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Saturday, February 13th; 5:00 PM - Hotel

When I challenged Lucy, I expected many things, but certainly not for her to let loose like she did. She’s usually so calm that she caught me completely off guard. Let’s just say I won’t be making the mistake of challenging her again, especially when it comes to vehicles. I’ve never felt so awful during a ride. The jolts along the way were so intense that I stumbled when I finally - finally - got back on solid ground. Lucy chuckled and grabbed my shoulders.

“Easy, babe. Are you okay?”

“Oh, misery…”

Nausea hit me, but I closed my eyes to push it away. I couldn’t even be mad at her for making fun of me because the scene must have been hilarious. I had been teasing her all afternoon about it, so I guess I deserved it. Lucy didn’t say anything, though. She waited for a moment for me to catch my breath before helping me take off my helmet. That gesture did me a world of good. I could finally take the breath of fresh air I’d been missing. I looked up at Lucy, who had a sly smile behind her helmet. Unlike me, she stayed on the snowmobile, waiting for Beth to return with the receptionist to open the hangar. I would have stayed on it too, but I was just too weak. I playfully hit her arm and replied:

“You’re making fun of me! That’s really mean,” I pouted.

“Sorry, baby, but you gave me free rein, remember?” she defended herself. “I expected you to handle some thrills if you were going to provoke me.”

“I can handle it!” I protested. “You were the one zigzagging the whole way down!”

“You’re exaggerating,” she teased. “Just admit you can’t handle anything.”

“That’s not true.”

Lucy laughed when I turned my head away and crossed my arms. I’m the first to love a good thrill, but this time, it was really too much for me. Between the speed, the turns, and the sheer drops… I thought we’d end up in the ravine more than once. I snapped out of my thoughts when Lucy brushed a few stray strands of hair behind my ear.

“I’m really sorry. I tend to lose myself when I’m driving,” she confessed with a small smile.

How could I be mad at her when she looked at me like that? I understood well that she loves all kinds of vehicles. Just look at her garage with her Audi and her motorcycle. I doubt the snowmobile is the only other thing she knows how to drive.

“No more snowmobiles for the week, huh?” she teased.

“I didn’t say that,” I mumbled, relaxing my arms.

“Then I’m saying it. I don’t want you getting sick because of me.”

“That’s not it. You just surprised me.”

“We’ll see. There are plenty of other activities here anyway. We’ll have other things to do.”

“Hmm… I’ll wait for you inside,” I said as I saw Beth return and the girls waiting for me.

They were clearly mocking me, laughing and pointing fingers. After all, I spent most of the return trip screaming and clinging desperately to Lucy.

“I’ll be quick,” Lucy said, catching my attention. “See you in a bit.”

“See you.”

She winked at me before revving the snowmobile’s engine. I smiled and shook my head as I watched her leave. I really need to remember that she loves anything with a motor. It would make a great gift one day. I didn’t linger and walked toward Alexia and Mapi, who had moved closer to the entrance. They teased me all the way inside, even though I had just managed to calm down. I’d like to see them in my place! They didn’t seem to realize how awful it was. The warmth of the lobby made me sigh with relief. It enveloped me immediately. I took off my gloves and jacket, which had started to feel cumbersome. I’m not used to wearing so many clothes. Since we spent the whole afternoon wandering around the village, I didn’t have much choice. We started with a café, then wandered around some souvenir shops and admired the architecture. It was a good day. We had a lot of fun, but I’m glad to be back. The cold was starting to freeze me, and truth be told, I’m exhausted from all the walking.

“Everything went well?” the young receptionist asked us as we arrived.

“Yeah, we had a blast,” Mapi replied. “Especially the return trip, right, Ona?” she giggled, nudging me.

“Ha, ha, ha!” I rolled my eyes.

This story is going to follow me for a long time, it seems. I had told Lucy she didn’t know how to let loose. She sure proved me wrong. She knows exactly how to do it. She even agreed to race the others on the way back. We won, arriving at least two full minutes ahead. No wonder I ended up in this state. The girls continued chatting with the young receptionist, recounting our day. He glanced at me a few times, while I kept an eye out for my girlfriend. He should have realized I’m taken by the way Lucy asserted herself last night. I had never seen her like that before. Speaking of her, I smiled when I saw her coming in with Jenni, laughing together. She stopped to smile at me when she noticed me.

“Did you finish putting everything away?” I asked when they reached us.

“Yeah. We’ve got some time before dinner, so I thought we could go for a swim.”

My eyes lit up, and I nodded immediately. She smiled, understanding. I had mentioned it this morning, but she wasn’t keen on going tonight. Either I was wrong, or she just wants to make me happy. If it’s the latter, I can only thank her. Given how sore my muscles are and my recent emotional rollercoaster, it’s exactly what I need to relax. I hope the pool is heated, though. I’m not a fan of cold water.

“Oh yes! Great idea,” Mapi chimed in.

“We didn’t say you were invited,” Lucy replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I don’t need an invitation. As far as I know, the pool is open to all hotel guests,” she retorted proudly.

I groaned quietly and rolled my eyes at Lucy, who stood in front of me. What’s her problem today? Is she going to keep this up much longer, keeping me away from Lucy? Everyone understood that we wanted to spend time together during this trip, except her. That was the first thing I told Alexia back at school, and she wasn’t bothered at all. She intended to do the same with Jenni since they didn’t see each other much. I glanced at her, who seemed to be smirking discreetly. As if that wasn’t enough, Mapi started calling out to Ingrid and the others who had just walked in, announcing that we’d all meet at the pool in fifteen minutes. Lucy chuckled and finally put her arm around my shoulders.

“Well, I guess we’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you soon,” Jenni smiled.

I let Lucy guide me, completely frustrated with my best friend for ruining such a promising plan. I exploded as soon as the elevator doors closed on us.

“How dare she invite everyone? Didn’t she get that we wanted to be alone? Why aren’t you reacting? Doesn’t this bother you at all?” I ranted.

“Relax,” she said calmly.

“Relax?! How can you be so calm? We were already apart all afternoon because of her! I really wanted that moment alone to end the day…” I complained.

Lucy chuckled and pulled me closer to her. I sighed and snuggled into her. I don’t understand Mapi on this one. It was like she was doing it on purpose. She already dragged Alexia and me around all afternoon at every opportunity. It felt more like an afternoon with friends than with couples. It was great because the girls were finally getting to know each other face-to-face, which made me happy. I’m the first to want them to get along, and it looks like we’re off to a good start with all the laughter we shared this afternoon. However, all I’m dreaming of now is being in my girlfriend’s arms.

“Who said we’d stay with them?”

“Well, you heard her,” I mumbled. “She invited everyone!”

"I reserved a private jacuzzi for us, baby."

"What... a jacuzzi?" I repeated, a mix of confusion and excitement in my voice.

"Mmhmm," she smiled. "Jenni and Alexia teased me because they knew about it. I booked it this morning after you mentioned wanting one. Mapi won't find us if we head down before everyone else."

"Oh my God! You're amazing. What are you waiting for then? Let's not waste any time!"

She laughed as I pulled her towards the door of our room. I've never gotten ready so quickly. I put on my swimsuit and followed Lucy’s lead, slipping on a pair of flip-flops and the robe the hotel provided. We each grabbed a towel before heading back down to the basement. There, I discovered a spa and pool area I hadn’t seen before. We walked through the glass door, and I was thrilled not to see anyone from our group. We weren’t alone, of course, but there was no one we knew.

"It’s beautiful," I whispered.

The hotel had made sure the place felt incredibly relaxing, at least that’s how it felt to me. There were sounds of nature playing softly in the background. The floors and walls were covered in smooth stone, and I could even feel a slight warmth beneath my feet. I had no doubt the floor was heated, contributing to the cozy atmosphere of the hallway. I was almost tempted to touch the ground with my bare foot to check, but Lucy pulled me out of my thoughts before I could.

"Follow me," she murmured.

I took her hand as she led me down the long corridor. We stopped in front of a window overlooking the pool. It was surrounded by large windows that opened onto an outdoor terrace, now slowly being covered by snow. The staff member had warned us this morning that it would start snowing in the evening, and he was right. We had planned to go out into the city tonight, but I suppose those plans might change.

"Are you coming?" she whispered. "The jacuzzi is a little further."

"Do you know this place by heart?" I giggled.

"Let’s just say I’ve had the chance to explore it before."

It’s true, she had been here before. I wondered who she had been with... But before I could think further, she led me to a room a bit farther from the pool. A staff member warmly greeted us in front of this wooden door.

"Hello. One of you must be Lucy Bronze?"

"In the flesh," my girlfriend replied, showing our room key.

The young woman nodded kindly, I guess the key was proof of her identity.

"Great," she smiled. "Here’s your private room. There’s a button inside if you need anything."

"Thank you very much."

"Have a wonderful evening."

The woman discreetly disappeared after opening the door. I was the first to step into the room, which was just as soothing and cozy... We were welcomed by dimmed lights, creating an almost sensual ambiance. Lucy closed the door behind us as I walked toward the jacuzzi, which was partially sunk into the floor, emitting soft, changing colors. I smiled as Lucy gently pulled the robe off my shoulders. I untied the knot at the front to let her slide it off completely. When I turned around, I saw that hers was already hanging on a hook on the wall, and mine quickly joined it on the other. I took off my flip-flops and dipped my foot into the steaming hot water, suppressing a moan that almost escaped. I could already tell I was going to enjoy this moment if we had it all to ourselves.

"Do you think anyone will join us?"

"No. No one will know where we are."

"Yes. But you said Jenni and Ale know."

"True, but even though they know, they won’t know which door we’re behind. There are other rooms like this one," she explained. "I doubt they’ll go around opening all of them, and I don’t think they’ll tell the others."

I smiled and nodded. She really does think of everything. If there’s anyone I trust with keeping things discreet, it’s Alexia and Jenni. They must understand how precious privacy is. Besides, the jacuzzi is way too small. It could only fit one other couple at most.

"Who knows. Mapi might try. We should probably lock the door to be sure."

"Ingrid won’t let her," she reassured me. "So, are you going to get in, or are you just going to keep dipping your toes?" she teased.

I bit my lip as I felt her hands settle on my bare hips. I pulled my foot out to remove my other flip-flop, then decided to slip into the water with her support. The hot water immediately relaxed my muscles. I let myself fall heavily onto one of the seats. Lucy chuckled lightly as she got in beside me. Her goddess-like body disappeared beneath the water as she sat down, sighing in satisfaction as she stretched out her arms and leaned her head back. I smiled as I watched her. Finally, we were alone, in a completely unexpected setting. A moment passed before she broke the silence.

"What are you thinking about?"

Her words were barely a whisper. How could she know I was deep in thought when her eyes were still closed? A smile appeared on her lips as she lowered her head to meet my confused expression.

"You’re too quiet not to be thinking," she explained.

I tried to hide my blush by turning my head away. It’s disconcerting how well she knows me.

"Am I making you blush?" she teased.

"Idiot," I laughed, playfully hitting her arm.

I took a deep breath before straddling her in a sudden burst of confidence. I needed to feel her bare skin against mine. Her body tensed for a moment, clearly not expecting that. I’ve been pushing her away too much lately. She gently placed her hands on my waist, caressing me with her thumbs.

"Hey," she murmured.

"Hey..."

I buried my face in her neck, trying to hide. Bad idea, as the waves from the bubbles splashed onto my face. I groaned, wiping away the water. Lucy chuckled, wrapping her arms around me, pulling me closer. There wasn’t a mirror to see myself, but I could imagine my makeup must have run. I should have taken it off in our room like I had planned. I ran my fingers under my eyes, trying to remove what I could. I placed my hands on her shoulders, unsure where else to put them. We gazed at each other for a moment before she leaned in to kiss me softly. I closed my eyes, savoring this gesture that had been rare today. We had been together without really being together, so I missed her lips. The girls were wrong when they said I was addicted to Lucy a month ago. I was just starting to become so, and it’s been growing day by day since we’ve been together. I can’t deny it anymore. She’s become my new addiction, one I can’t do without. It’s much better than what I used to take. As if reading my mind, she gently teased my lips with her tongue, deepening the kiss. I granted her access, letting her take full control so she could convey all her passion. We regrettably parted when we ran out of breath. She smiled softly, letting one hand trace along the back of my neck. I was glad I had thought to tie my hair back earlier. Her touch sent a shiver through me from head to toe. The quiet made me realize that the music from the hallway had followed us here.

"Did you enjoy the day?"

"Yeah... It was really fun."

"Sorry for shaking you up a bit too much on the way back. I hope you’ve recovered."

"It was just... unexpected. I didn’t know you could be so... I don’t even know how to say it."

"So playful? So fun, or maybe so willing to accept a challenge?"

"Yeah. All of that, I suppose," I giggled. "I mean, you’re usually so serious. It’s almost like you scold me when I have too much fun."

"Hey, I’ve never lectured you about that."

"Yes, you have," I chuckled. "When I used to go to parties."

"That was different," she sighed. "Parties don’t mean ‘fun’ for everyone. They were dangerous, and I was worried about you. If I was harsh about it, it was because we were rarely on the same page."

"I’m sorry for bringing it up again..."

"No, you were right to mention it. We might as well clear the air."

"Well... in that case, I admit you were right. It was dangerous for me... And it’s cute that you cared about me."

Her expression softened as I spoke. She probably thought I was going to argue with her again, but I couldn’t do that. She was absolutely right. I was just a lost kid before I met her. I had nothing left to lose, so I was throwing my life away. That’s not the case anymore. I have her. She means everything to me. She smiled back, tightening her hold around me.

"I’ll always worry about you..."

"You’re really too sweet," I murmured, nuzzling into her neck.

I've never been someone who liked expressing my feelings. Yet, everything is different with Lucy. I intend to show her that she's the one and only, over and over again. I'd be willing to do a lot for those beautiful eyes of hers, especially after everything she's done for me. She makes me strong.

"Hey...?" I murmured.

"Hmm?"

"Can we talk about next week?" I asked nervously, playing with the elastic of her swimsuit.

"What do you want to talk about? What we can do with your brother?"

"No... Actually, I’ve changed my mind. But only if you agree, of course."

She looked at me curiously. I didn’t want to share my thoughts too late, so she’d have time to consider them. I wasn’t sure if she’d like the change, but I hoped deep down that she would accept it.

"What do you mean by 'changed your mind'? You don’t want your brother to come anymore?"

"No, I mean... actually, I’d prefer if we went back to Barcelona, rather than having him come here," I said, biting my lip.

She looked at me for a moment before taking a deep breath, her fingers gently tracing patterns on my back. She seemed to be considering my request, which was already a good sign. Finally, she smiled and tilted her head slightly.

"What’s going through your mind that makes you want that?" she asked with her adorable smile. "I thought you didn’t like going back home anymore."

I shrugged thoughtfully. The only weekend she had accompanied me was amazing. If we went back, it would be slightly different with my mother and Marcus there, but I didn’t doubt that it would still be great. My thoughts were interrupted when she surprised me with a kiss on the nose. I smiled at her shyly.

"Don’t be afraid to talk to me, Ona," she encouraged.

I took a deep breath and nodded. If there’s one thing I don’t feel anymore when confiding in her, it’s embarrassment—depending on the topic, of course. We’ve reached a point where I have nothing left to hide from her anyway. She knows everything about me, and yet she’s still here, as she’s always told me.

"I feel like my mom really likes you," I began. "It’s like, for once, I made the right decision for her... I think that... Actually, I’m sure that you’re the person who could help rebuild the bond between us."

"You’ve always wanted to reconcile with her, haven’t you?"

"I-I don’t really know, to be honest..."

"And if you explain to me what happened between you two? I know it’s been tense, but you never told me why."

"I couldn’t even tell you when it started," I sighed.

"I thought it was since you moved to Barcelona ?"

"No, it was long before that..."

"Really? I thought she was just absent when you were in Portugal ?"

"That was the problem. She wasn’t there, and my dad was. We became very close. Sometimes, I wonder if it was because of me that they separated."

"Why would they? You know, you were young, and kids often don’t understand adults' decisions at the time."

"I overheard them one night. I might have been a kid, but I understood the gist of their conversation. It was just a few weeks before they told me about their separation..."

I hate thinking back to that night. My parents never knew I had woken up and overheard them behind the door. Their conversation upset me for a long time. Lucy tightened her hold on me, reminding me of her presence and unwavering support.

"What were they saying?" she gently encouraged me to continue.

"They were arguing about me. I... I was really the center of their dispute. My mom was never around, and my dad let me do whatever I wanted when he got back from his missions because he was so happy to see me."

"I see... They disagreed on how to raise you, if I understand correctly."

"My dad always defended me. I was his little girl, after all. My mom thought he spoiled me too much..."

"And did he?"

"No. When we were alone and I messed up, he didn’t hesitate to be fair and give me advice afterward. It was a bit like with you when we first met, but my mom didn’t know that. I still don’t understand why my dad didn’t defend himself that night. He could have, but he didn’t even try to stop her when she talked about her job offer in Miami. It was like everything was already over between them."

"Sweetheart, you have no reason to feel guilty about this. Like I said before, your parents probably had their own issues that you weren’t aware of. It’s possible they no longer had feelings for each other, and you were the reason they stayed together as long as they did. That happens a lot in married couples."

"Maybe you’re right," I murmured. "In any case, going home after what happened with Feli was the only time I felt like I had my mom’s attention. I noticed how worried she was about me, but I couldn’t trust her. It was... I don’t know. There was so much history. I couldn’t just let her back into my life with a snap of my fingers, no matter what I had gone through and how much support I needed."

"That’s normal... You were never close, and she hurt you a lot. But she’s still your mom. You have every right to want to reconcile with her. From what I understand, all you ever really wanted was her attention, right?"

I sighed and cuddled up to Lucy, nodding. She was right, as always. There was a long time when I wanted to make her proud of me by becoming the daughter she wanted me to be. She wanted me to succeed like her. But starting our new life together, I quickly realized we didn’t know each other and had no affection for one another. She didn’t even know my food preferences. My motivation crumbled when I discovered Marcus’s identity at twelve years old. I was devastated that she could replace my dad. It felt like betrayal to me. I completely shut down. The only things that saved me were Sophia’s presence, who had just come into my life, and my stays with my dad. He was the first to tell me I should accept this new relationship. I’ve always wondered about his reaction. Did he know? Was that why my mom wanted to leave? After all, my mom was from Barcelona, just like Marcus. They must have known each other before. And he was in the military before joining the Police. For all I know, my dad might have known him too. He was always very friendly with him, the few times they met.

"What are you thinking about now?"

I looked up at Lucy. It seemed like she hadn’t missed a single thought of mine the entire time.

"It doesn’t matter," I murmured. "So, about my idea to go home?"

She looked at me for a moment, as if she was hesitating to say something. After thinking it over, she finally spoke.

"I’d love for us to go back to Barcelona next week, but I’ve already got something planned... An appointment, actually."

"Oh?"

"Do you remember what I told your mom about your future?"

"About the possibility of continuing my studies?"

"Yeah. The gallery director wants to meet you. I didn’t want to tell you so I could surprise you... But anyway... I managed to get you an appointment with him next Tuesday."

"Oh..."

"Yeah, 'oh'," she repeated, giggling.

"Is that why you insisted on hosting Joan only at the end of the week?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "But if you really want to go, we can. It just means canceling an appointment that you might not be able to reschedule. Otherwise, we could go at the end of the week instead of bringing Joan, but there's no guarantee."

"And why not?"

"Well... who’s to say this man wouldn’t want to see you again?"

"You think he’d want to see me again?"

"Who knows," she smiled. "If you make a good impression, he probably would."

"You’re right... And what if it doesn’t go well? There’s a good chance of that, right? Why would he be interested in a kid like me? I mean, I’m in a private school for troubled youth. If he finds out, I’m doomed."

"Hey, relax. Seriously, do you hear yourself?" she chuckled. "Troubled youth, really? »

- "Well, it's true! I had addiction problems. If I hadn't met you, who knows how I might have ended up."

- "See, that's exactly why I wanted to tell you at the last moment. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have said anything until the meeting, just to avoid you panicking."

- "I’m not panicking," I pouted.

- "Yes, you are," she smiled. "You lack confidence, so you doubt everything. He knows where you are. If he didn’t want to meet you, you wouldn’t have gotten an appointment, trust me."

- "Really? I’m surprised. You told him!? You were in contact with him?"

- "I was in contact with him, and yes, I had to tell him. He wouldn’t waste his time if he wasn’t interested in you, baby, I assure you. It’s a big gallery, which is even more interesting for you."

- "Do you really think I have a chance...? I never considered enrolling in a higher school before today. In fact, I wanted to do the complete opposite of what my mother had planned for me."

She sighed heavily, running her hand along my neck. I bit my lip, thinking I probably shouldn’t have brought it up again. A small smile formed on her lips as she tilted her head.

- "Your mother always wanted the best for you. You’ll understand that one day when you have your own children. If she pushed you into medicine like her, it’s because she thought it was a safe career since she succeeded."

I was about to respond, but she stopped me by placing a finger on my lips.

- "I’m not saying she was right. I believe a parent shouldn’t force their child to do something they don’t want to. She should have advised and supported you, but certainly not forced you. It’s your life. Everyone has the right to live their dreams, even if it means they might fall on their face afterward. Remember that when you become a mother."

- "When that happens, you’ll be by my side to remind me."

- "I hope so," she smiled.

- "In any case, my father understood that. He did exactly what you just said. I think his death and my leaving home opened my mother’s eyes. She became different toward me after the incident with Feli. For the first time, she wanted to take care of me... It was so strange."

- "And you let her?"

- "I... Yes and no... I was in a bad state when I returned, Luce," I admitted to her. "I isolated myself most of the time. The only people I allowed into my room were my mother, Mapi, Joan, and Sophia. I didn’t even sleep at night. The only time I could sleep was when Mapi slept with me, and even then. She would come to see me every day and spend hours in my room because, for a long time, neither Marcus, Sam, nor any other person could get within five meters of me..."

Lucy, who usually hides her emotions so well, couldn’t do so at that moment. I wished she didn’t know about this, but if we were going to spend our lives together, she had a right to know what kind of person she was agreeing to live with.

- "I went through real trauma," I continued. "It took me three months to leave my room. Six months to accept the presence of an other person in the same room as me. The first one I was able to talk to was Sam, which is why our friendship became even stronger than before."

Once again, I could see the surprise in her eyes. No one outside the people who were around me at home knew about this. It was a real ordeal I had to overcome when I returned. Seeing where I am now, I wonder how I managed it in just one year. I still struggle to trust people, even though it’s much better now. I can see how pained Lucy is. She tries to speak, but I cut her off, continuing my monologue. If I don’t do it now, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to say it again.

- "My mother wanted me to see someone, but I categorically refused. She granted me that, but in return, she forced me to go to rehab for six months, allowing me to come home every day. She wanted me to be in contact with people who had gone through similar stories, or even worse."

- "That was actually a good idea..." she murmured. "Did it help?"

- "I resisted the idea for a long time, but yes. Deep down, being in contact with others helped me open up again in a way. I managed to find my humanity, even though I remained cautious about everything."

- "You hid it very well. I mean, I pushed you so hard when we met. I saw you as a bold girl, though I quickly understood that you had a painful past... But even now, I didn’t think you were so deeply affected by it."

- "You were a woman, and I knew what I was getting into when I came to Camp Wiegman. I expected to meet someone like you, and I was prepared to resist you at all costs," I admitted to her.

- "Did your mother never force you to press charges against Feli?"

I bit my lip, lowering my head. Of course, she wanted me to press charges. However, I was too mentally and physically affected to do it. I stayed honest and nodded.

- "Yes... She built a case with lots of evidence, but I never had the courage to go through with it."

I dreaded her reaction to this new information. We had argued about it in Spain. I had even told her I would do it in the heat of the moment. She didn’t respond, but everything was clear from her expression.

- "Lucy..." I said apprehensively.

- "No, don’t talk to me like that. What’s holding you back, Ona? Really, I don’t understand you. You have everything you need to get revenge for all the harm she’s done to you, and you do nothing. So what? What are your reasons this time? Don’t tell me you still care for her or anything like that after everything you’ve just told me. You’re terrified of her ! I’ve seen it with my own eyes, countless times."

What was supposed to be a relaxed moment had turned into a nightmare. I wanted to flee, but she held me too firmly around the waist for me to slip off her lap. I hate arguing, but that’s what’s going to happen again if I don’t find a coherent answer. What can I possibly say to her? I’ve been living like this for more than a year and a half. I sighed, playing with a strand of her hair.

- "I... I don’t care about taking her to court, Luce. No matter how much she deserves it, all that matters to me is that this whole story ends."

With the utmost gentleness, she slid her fingers under my chin to lift my head. My tear-filled eyes met her emerald jewels. Surprisingly, there was no trace of anger in them.

- "Taking her to court is how you’ll close this chapter. She won’t stop until you do, believe me. He needs to understand that he means nothing to you anymore and that you’re capable of moving on."

And I know she’s right. Feli has been bolder than I expected since I left her. I didn’t expect her to keep harassing me again and again. Would she be capable of coming back ten years later if I don’t take action? A shiver ran down my spine. Yes, I think she would, unfortunately. As if Lucy knew what I was thinking, she pulled me closer to her.

- "Hey... You’re not alone anymore, remember?"

- "Would you do it with me...?"

My question seemed to surprise her, judging by her expression and the time it took her to respond.

- "Of course, baby. I’ve been by your side from the beginning, and that won’t ever change. You’ll have my support in everything you decide to do... within reason," she added with amusement.

- "Thank you..." I murmured. "We’ll review the case when we get back to Spain then if that’s okay with you."

- "Alright. We’ll go back soon."

- "You really want to?"

- "If the only thing that can make you happy is for me to go home with you, then I’ll do it."

- "I don’t want to impose it on you..."

- "Ona," she chuckled. "You’re not imposing anything on me. I’d love to learn more about your family."

- "Are you sure it doesn’t bother you?"

- "Why would it? We’re building our life together now, and our families are part of that. You’ll meet mine one day too."

I blushed at the thought of her wanting to introduce me to her parents. That would mean going back to Portugal. It would be a good opportunity to return after all this time. Maybe I’ll ask her then if we could take a detour to Lisbon to see my grandfather. I doubt she’d have a problem with that. I smiled just thinking about it. My grandfather is going to love her, just like my father would have.

- "Actually, I was planning to tell them about you after the trip."

- "Really?" I asked, surprised.

"Mm-hmm. I usually visit them in the summer, but it won’t be possible this year because of the gym. I was thinking of going in April and taking you with me... if you’re okay with that.

My heart races. I can't refuse, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't panicking. Having her meet my family is one thing, but meeting hers is entirely different.

"O-OK... We need to get to know each other outside, after all," I replied, making her smile.

"I wasn't asking for an answer right now," she teased. "Just think about it, OK?"

"I won’t have time to think about it with school."

"There you go again," she sighed.

"What? I still have three months left!"

"You're exaggerating," she teased. "You’ve got two and a half left. That’s half of the five months you've already completed."

"Seen that way..."

"They’re going to be tough because you need to prepare for your exam, but I’ll help you study."

"Hum..."

Too much information was shared in just a few seconds. The thought of what lies ahead makes me a bit depressed. I wrap my arms around her shoulders and rest my head there, keeping my face away from the splashes. I sigh with contentment, enjoying the closeness of our bodies. It's been so long since I've had this kind of intimacy with someone. I could stay here, with her, forever. I close my eyes and nestle my head a little deeper into my arms.

"Are you someone who celebrates month anniversaries?" I asked spontaneously, making Lucy laugh.

"Really, babe?"

"It’s an important question, I think," I said, reluctantly pulling back to see her face. "Not everyone celebrates that kind of thing."

"Well, I suppose, yes," she finally replied. "I'm a bit of a romantic at heart. Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering. It's been ten days since we got together."

"And you? Do you want to celebrate our first month?"

"Of course! I’d love to plan something if that’s okay with you."

"And why should you do all the planning? I could just as easily do it."

"No," I shook my head. "I want to show you how grateful I am and how much..."

I stopped for a moment. I'm not ready to say it yet, no matter how intense my feelings are. She smiled and kissed my forehead.

"I know. And I'm not going to stop you if you want to plan a special evening for just the two of us. Just know that I’m not someone who likes overly fancy things."

"I’ll find something you'll like, then."

"A simple dinner or a movie is enough for me," she suggested. "All that matters is that we spend the evening together."

"You’ll see what it will be," I teased.

"Hmm... I’m already looking forward to it," she murmured against my lips.

I closed the distance to kiss her. I could do this all day. I'm not a natural romantic, as she might wish I were, but I'm willing to learn if that's what it takes. I want to be romantic for her if she likes that. She deserves all the love in the world, and I intend to give it to her. I pressed closer to her and closed my eyes. I love her, I’m sure of it. She knows it, and I’ll tell her when the time is right. I just hope she feels the same... I suppose she does; otherwise, she wouldn't have changed her mind about our relationship. She knows how broken I am inside, and giving me false hope would hurt more than anything. Lucy isn’t that kind of person, and that's why I love her. She’s fair, gentle, and caring. I couldn’t have dreamed of a better person to share my life with.

[maplleaf]

Two tries, One success

[Gepard Landau x gn!reader]

Working as the manager of Mechanical Fever's famous bassist isn't as bad of a job as many would think. Serval originally wanted an assistant to sort out her workshop's data, but after seeing how you matched energies with her, she offered the position as Mechanical Fever's assistant not long after being hired.

It's good; your pay doubled and your boss is great as a friend and as an employer. It's been a year since working for Serval and you've never looked back in regret. You even got the chance to befriend her younger brother, Gepard.

Although recently, the two siblings have been acting strange.

At first Serval asked about your type, you answered the question by saying blonde, since at the time you find a blonde hair color attractive.

Then only a day later, Serval had to 'take leave' in the middle of the day; saying that Pela asked to meet her regarding some scheduling with rehearsals. Despite you not remembering Pela mentioning anything of the sort when seeing her yesterday...

Since she is your boss, you brushed it off. The workshop doesn't have days where an influx of clients would come in anyway. Additionally, current clients' orders are all finished and it's just a waiting game for any of them to pick their items up.

No Serval, no work, not even cleaning. The only thing moderately interesting is the plant you brought here as decoration for Serval.

In conclusion; you were bored as hell that day.

Which is why when the door opened, your body straightened up as a reflex; thinking it's one of the clients. Surprisingly, you were met with the sight of Serval's younger brother. A rush of excitement and joy hit you, almost subconsciously.

"Gepard? Serval didn't mention you coming here," you pointed out. As captain of the silvermane guards, he's usually busy with work. "Did you left something last week?"

The blonde didn't answer right away, in fact his eyes are looking at everything but you. "No, uhm, Is my sister not here?" Gepard asked, finally turning towards you.

"Nah, she said Pela wanted to talk to her urgently earlier," you answered. "I can tell her you're here though," you raised your phone as a way to tell Gepard how you could tell Serval about his visit.

"That... isn't necessary," he almost stammered, even to the point where you noticed. "Did my sister bring that in?" Gepard pointed to the plant beside you.

"I did actually. This old fella' looks like it fits in this place," your hand grabbed the small plant's pot, shaking it lightly as if it's talking. Using a voice for the plant, you began to talk for it like a puppet. "That's right, it was so cold out there."

Gepard chuckled at your antics, "you must take good care of it." He heard you hum in response, "if your sister did, she might sing it rock music for bedtime."

After you placed the pot back down, Gepard took a deep breath before spilling his true intention. "Are you perhaps busy this Saturday?" The Landau sibling had a light red dusting on his cheek, something blocked by the darker lighting of Nevermore workshop.

You raised an eyebrow at him in interest. Saturday... Mechanical Fever shouldn't be having any performances that day and the workshop is closed; leaving you with an open spot. "I'm not, why'd you ask?"

"I was wondering if we could..." Gepard's word trailed away, his blue eyes looking at yours with a strange gaze. It's beautiful, his eyes, like the carved geomarrow at the Everwinter Monument, but somehow more beautiful. It's mezmerizing, truly.

"...could teach me about plant management. I've been trying to take care of mine as a hobby, but they don't usually end well," Gepard finishes his sentence.

The room stayed quiet for a moment, though in Gepard's mind it's louder than all the concerts he's seen his sister performs. The silence ended when you chuckled, then laughed.

"Sorry sorry," you managed to muffled out. "It's just, Serval's been mentioning your 'hobby' for awhile and I didn't expect you to come to me for help," you leaned back against the chair with your arms crossed, "How about at noon here? I can ask Serval about opening the workshop for the day, sure she wouldn't mind if it's for you."

Gepard straightened his posture as a reflex, though his face does hold a certain embarassment that you didn't pick up. "Sure, I'll be glad," he smiled. "I think I'll have to go now, my break isn't long."

The blonde leaves the workshop in a hurry, not even hearing your words of parting. You found it strange how he behaved that day, and many days after to be exact.

The second time one of the Landau siblings acted weird was when Mechanical Fever's performance had just ended. Many people were asking for a photo or even signatures of the bandmates, especially Serval.

Since it all had technically wrapped up, you sat by the bench nearby to recharge from watching a fun yet exhausting performance. The air of overworld's Belobog is much colder in the evening, even with geomarrow heaters everywhere.

Your hand rubbed against eachother for heat and friction. It'll only be a short while until the band properly wraps up and have a little celebration in Serval's workshop. Though that short while felt like eternity when all you could feel is the eternal winter's air saying 'fuck you warmth!'

"You okay there?"

You looked up to see the familiar charming captain, his face full of worry. The thought of Gepard worrying made you conflicted to wether feel happy or guilty. "Yeah, just chilly," you responded, bringing your heated hands to your face for more warmth.

"You didn't bring a jacket?" Gepard asked, sitting right beside you. "It's usually not this cold at the evening, but winter has its ways."

"Well fuck whoever made this winter," whilst rubbing your hands again, you slipped out a few words of annoyance at the current state of temperature. Realizing the rudeness, you couldn't help but feel guilty, "sorry."

"It's fine but," Gepard looks at your sorry state and thought about it for a moment, leaving you to wonder what's in his pretty little head. Your thoughts stopped when he took off the white and blue scarf of his uniform and slid it around yours.

"Here."

You wanted asked what was he doing before feeling the heat. It's so... warm. Is this what he feels everytime going in the fragmentums filled with cold air? No wonder he could stand in a fight for so long, this thing is comfortable.

"You are an actual lifesaver, Landou," your almost trembling voice muttered, quickly relishing in the warmth that his scarf had given you. Gepard on the other hand felt his eyes being stuck on your figure; the snow of Belobog definitely made you look more ethereal than usual.

Gepard took a few moments before the spur of the moment outweighs his worries. "A new place opened up near Goethia hotel, I was wondering--"

"(y/n)! Hurry up, we're heading to Serval's," the pianist of Mechanical Fever yelled out, uncaring of the other people surprised at his sudden voice.

As the assistant of the band, you were already used to this by now. The blonde beside you is not used to it; and if that pianist is a fragmentum monster, he would've thrown a punch right then and there.

"Sorry, could you say that again?" you tried to ignore the pianist's wails, focusing on Gepard more considering he's not yelling at you.

"Right," Gepard coughed to ease himself back in the moment, "this wednesday, I was wondering if--"

"(y/n)!"

You winced in annoyance as that pianist's voice filled the streets of the district. Seriously, you hope Serval can knock some sense into the guy about the great knowledge that is patience. Seeing as he would probably keep yelling your name until you yield, your priorities had to change.

"Sorry, Gepard, could you continue that another time? I'm afraid a certain someone wouldn't shut their mouth if I don't come," you scoffed, side-eyeing the person in annoyance. Gepard looks at you with disappointment, a face you've never seen before.

"It's fine," the blonde answered, though when he sees you start taking off his scarf, his gloved hand prevented you from properly taking it off. "Just take it, you'll get cold on the way."

You raised an eyebrow at him unsurely, "... won't you get in trouble for giving this to a civilian?"

Gepard shook his head, instead gently tightening the scarf. "I have another at home," he brushed it off before backing away from you. "I'll... see you on another day."

The next day, you overheard a few guards talking about their Captain Landau; and how he seems to be missing a part of his uniform.

The third time is when Serval asked a specific question when you two were working. A client had given her an antique click to fix earlier on, the device taking over Serval's focus for the past two hours. You on the other hand had to sort out this month's profits and data regarding clients and business related items you two bought for the month.

"Say, what do you think of silvermane guards?" the blonde bassist asked you before extending her hand up to you expecting a tool. You naturally took the screwdriver and gave it to her, eyes still focused on the laptop.

"They're... fine," you answered. "What's with the random question?" Serval shrugged her arm, taking off her glasses as she leaned back and rested her eyes. Another fixing job for a complex antique done, it's amazing how someone could keep an object for a long time without realizing the broken gears it has.

"Everytime we go out to buy parts, you always glanced at the silvermane groups when they passed," the flinch coming from you became an answer to her assumption. Serval leaned on the table in front of her, blue eyes scanning you for any hints, "Interested in one of 'em?"

Seeing as lying would get you nowhere with the engineer, you took shaky breath, "just one."

Serval's eyes lit up like stars, "No way! Care to spill?" you averted your eyes from your boss' enthusiasm, finger tapping on the wood as a way to calm yourself. Even if she is your friend, it doesn't ease the nervousness.

"Well..." your voice trailed out.

"And what was the answer?"

Serval sighed, "said I knew the person." Her younger brother slumped down, tapping his feet for every half a second. "C'mon, we narrowed it down to a blonde and a silvermane guard I know! That's a pretty good chance," Serval tried to cheer him up, which sadly didn't do much.

"That doesn't narrow it down to one person," Gepard pointed out. At first, he noticed you sneaking glances when he was ordering guards near Belobog's alleyways. It gave him a hope that maybe this isn't unrequited; a hope that's lost the longer he thought about it.

"Maybe I should cancel it, I can't ruin our friendship because of this."

Serval smacked her brother's head lightly in a scolding manner. "Hey, I thought us Landau are hardworking and determined. You can't just give up now," she reminded him.

Even if Gepard's hesitance did stop for a moment, it didn't stop him from feeling nervous. Serval waited for her brother to speak up, her arm crossed on her chest. Gepard recalled how long he had been trying a confession, four weeks. Four grueling weeks and three tries of trying to ask you out in any way he could think of only to fail each time.

The first time he got too nervous when looking at your eyes gazing at him. The fear of rejection and making that look turn into something bad made him scared.

The second time one of Mechanical Fever's band members interrupted him. Maybe it's The Aeon of Preservation's way of telling him fate doesn't allow this to happen.

It's complicated; so many variables that caused him to worry over what ifs. For starters, his sister is your boss, then he might not even be your type personality wise. Gepard is usually a confident person, but something about you just makes him nervous all the sudden.

"What am I supposed to do?" Gepard asked, wanting some kind of advice from his carefree older sister. Serval sighed, leaning against her table to wrack an idea from her head.

"Tomorrow morning, I asked (y/n) to take care of the workshop since I have plans with some friends," she told him, "Try shooting your shot then, and don't chicken out this time."

Gepard thought about Serval's idea, ultimately considering it a good enough plan. "Sounds great. Thank you, sister," Gepard stood up properly after giving his appreciation to Serval.

A part of him feels guilty for falling with his sister's assistant. He didn't even realize he's falling for someone until he's already too late.

The blonde sighed, he can only pray to Qlipoth that you won't hate him for this.

After Gepard said his goodbyes to Serval, the cold air of Belobog hits him. Thankfully, his uniform made it so he's not feeling cold, but usually geomarrow heaters around the city would lessen the drop in temperature. He should've told his sister to fix the broken heater outside.

Unbeknownst to him, you were just done buying flowers from the shop near Nevermore workshop. Your hand clenched onto the bouquet of flowers hard as you noticed a familiar blonde in front of Serval's workshop.

The dark lighting that roams Belobog's night made it so he probably didn't realize it's you there. Even so, he did hear footsteps approaching him. "Gepard! Didn't expect to run into you," you greeted him.

"Oh, (y/n), hi. I was just visiting my sister," Gepard answered, your voice instantly making him nervous. He noticed the item you're carrying; a bouquet of sunshine flowers. From his hours of studying how to do gardening as a hobby, he also learned some of the meaning of flowers.

Sunshine is a flower that means "warmth and love of light" for the people of Belobog. He doesn't know if you knew what those flowers mean, but something inside his mind is causing him to feel scared.

Though, remembering you were still here, Gepard quickly swallowed that feeling in favor of being your friend. "Are you heading home?" Gepard asked, receiving a nod from you.

"Yeah, gotta take care of the workshop tomorrow," your hand held the bouquet slightly tighter. "Actually, do you mind walking me to my house?" your voice had a hint of hesitance to it. "I... still have your scarf from last time."

Gepard smiled at your worries. Yes, he did get questioned by his superiors about it before being given another scarf, but honestly, he didn't mind it since it results in your comfort. "You don't have to worry about that, I have another one."

"No!"

The sudden change of tone caught Gepard off guard, as you usually never raised a voice unless it's needed. Looking at your regretful expression and the hand nearing your mouth made Gepard think it wasn't fully intentional on your side either.

"Sorry, it's just," your words came into a stutter. "I want to take a walk with you tonight, is that possible?"

Gepard didn't know what to say in an instant, almost stuttering himself. Though, he does answer fast in fear you might think he feels reluctant to. "Of course," he answered, "Shall we go, then?"

"Yeah," you swallowed a lump in your throat and walked closer to the captain.

The walk is a relaxing one. Due to Jarilo-IV's eternal winter, weather at night have always been colder than at day; even with the heaters. Droplets of snow covered the both of you as the walk continued. Gepard is the first to break the silence, bringing up the flowers he noticed.

"Those are sunshine flowers, right?" he asked. "Yeah, I bought it for a friend," your voice almost seemed to hesitate on the last word. "It means love and warmth from what I remember."

Hearing you say that gives the knowledge to Gepard that you know the meaning of it, and if you're giving it to a friend then it means you feel some sort of love or warmth for the friend. That left a bitter taste in his mouth when he thinks about it.

"Warmth and love of light," Gepard added, when he sees your eyes looking at him in curiosity he felt the need to explain. "I've read some additional details when learning how to do gardening."

If it weren't for the barely lit street lamps, he would've been caught with a red face. "Love, huh..." your muttering were loud enough for Gepard to hear. "Have you ever been confessed to?"

Your question made Gepard wonder what to answer. If he were to say yes, does that lower the chances of you accepting his confession. But if he were to say no, would you really believe him?

"A few times, though I never really accepted them," Gepard side-eyed you, trying to pinpoint any kind of reaction. He could see your hand holding onto the bouquet tight, even so he doesn't know if it's due to nervousness or just from the cold.

"I see," your voice trailed out. The walk continued on quietly, but it's not awkward per se.

For Gepard, his mind is clouded with doubt for tomorrow's plan. If he were to be planning a confession, he would ask for some kind of advice from someone he knows well. For him it was Serval, but maybe for you it's him.

Before either of you could realize it, you two are already in front of your home. "Looks like we're here," Gepard said unsurely. He isn't exactly sure if you would give back his scarf or not, considering he rejected the offer earlier.

"Right," you took a deep breath before turning to face the blonde, your movements as stiff as a robot. Your hand held onto the bouquet with shaking fingers, eyes unsure where to look but eventually locking to Gepard's blue ones.

After a moment of silence and you biting your lips to form words, any words, you finally spoke.

"You are a wonderful person to be around, I always enjoy talking to you even if it's just for a few minutes," your voice is low, scared even. The fear of losing someone causing hesitation between each words spoken.

"And you might feel otherwise, but fuck, I want to be selfish just this once." You took in another breath of air to prepare yourself. Your arms extended towards Gepard, offering him the bouquet of flowers. "I like you, like really like you."

Your voice trembled, but not because of the coldness in the air but the warmth that slowly crept up to your head. Heartbeat going louder than any of Serval's performances.

Gepard's own state isn't far different than yours. His mind slowly processed your words as his cheeks is engulfed in a light pink hue. For almost a month he was worried every time he thought about it; head slamming against the wall thinking on what to say and what to do for a confession.

"It seems you did what I was planning to do."

His hand took the flowers, happiness written all over his face expressed by a soft and endearing smile. "I feel the same way, for awhile now to be exact," Gepard took a deep breath before letting out small chuckles of his own.

"Sorry, its just nice to see that I'm not alone," his admittance made you laugh yourself. It's good that your house doesn't have many street lamps in front of it, or else the two of you might've been exposed for the redness in both of your faces.

It's strange. Just a moment ago the cold air of Belobog had started to settle in, but now all you could feel is the wamrth coming from your own face. Though, after properly processing Gepard's reponse you realized the opportunity laid properly at this moment.

"I have a ticket-- sorry, two tickets, to the Golden Theater next week at 12. If you're free, we could go together," your voice came back happily, glee and excitement coming from the tone.

"Like a date?"

Your eyes lit up as Gepard continued it for you, hearing it as a confirmation that he might be okay with the idea. "Yeah, like a date."

"Of course, I would love to," Gepard answers, his beautiful smile still brightly seen even with the dark lighting. Your face mirrored his, still nervous as hell, but happily nervous.

Realizing the time, you felt bad for making Gepard stand in front of your home for so long. "Great! I'll see you another day then," you argued with yourself for a few moments before going with the nervous adrenaline telling you what impulses to do.

Matching yourself to Gepard's height, you dropped a small kiss on his cheek; causing the blonde to be caught off guard as his face heats up more.

"Can't wait for next week," you muttered loud enough for him to hear before bolting to your door to avoid any chances that he'll see your state; an obvious nervous wreck. As you entered your own home, mumbles of questions leaves your mind, all relating to your actions not even a minute ago.

Meanwhile, Gepard is left still in front of your home dumbfounded and processing what had just happened. His eyes darted to the bouquet again; yellow petals looking back at him, giving him hope for what comes in the future.