#been working towards it for months now...
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lardguz · 1 day ago
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A Hero's Buttery Addiction
Just a little short thing this time, featuring a certain Hylian hero discovering the joys of cooking with butter! Inspired by @plumpybread whose art helps me visualize how to write larger sizes WAY better than I used to. I know he's like, a legend in the community already but if you haven't seen his work somehow, please check it out! His art is so good!
A cool breeze blew through the air in Rito Village, blowing south from the Hebra Mountains. Link suppressed a shiver, feeling the brisk chill around the bottom of his tunic. He adjusted the feather-lined garment quickly, pulling it down to cover his abdomen, but it immediately started riding up on him as soon as he continued walking. The Hylian grumbled to himself, opting to try and ignore it while he stocked up on supplies at the general store. Link walked into the cozy open-air hut, nodding at the Rito shopkeeper with a warm smile as he piled all of the goat butter the shop had in stock into his satchel. He handed a pouch of rupees to the Rito as payment before walking out of the store to head back out adventuring Hyrule. 
Link didn’t want to admit it to himself, but the Hylian has packed on some pounds in recent months. Once he had discovered the joys of cooking with goat butter, he never looked back, and the delicious, creamy, fattening substance had clearly affected his waistline. The sliver of pale, soft chub that peeked out from his warm Rito Tunic gave him a slight muffin top, and his thighs ever so slightly brushed together when he walked. Link seemed ignorant to these changes to his body, though; mentally, he attributed his tighter clothing to an ill-advised attempt at making a fan powered raft that fell apart, plunging him into icy cold water while fully clothed. To him, the cold water must have shrunk his clothing somehow! It couldn’t have anything to do with his new culinary obsession, surely! 
The pudgy Hylian sat at a cooking pot, sorting through his available ingredients. Link pulled out a slab of prime meat, a large hearty bass, some Hylian mushrooms, and a stick of goat butter. He paused, thinking for a moment. If just one stick of goat butter improved the flavor of a dish so much… Why not use two? Reaching into his bag, Link grabbed another stick of butter, and tossed it into the pot with the rest of the food, watching it melt and coat the meat and mushrooms, sizzling delightfully. As soon as his meal was done, Link immediately took an eager bite, too hungry to wait any longer. The flavors exploded in his mouth, coating his tongue in a rich, oily sensation. This was amazing! He scarfed down the rest of the pile of meat, seafood, and mushrooms, patting his pudgy stomach in satisfaction. Link knew one thing for sure now: he was going to have to keep trying butter in more recipes if it made them taste this good!
 
Months passed, and Link’s reputation for cooking rich, decadent meals for himself grew. Shops all over Hyrule knew to stock up on extra goat butter, as the eager Hylian hero would travel to each and every settlement just to get his fix. As his desire for egregious amounts of butter grew, so did his waistline. Link had absolutely blown up since discovering that adding more butter to his cooking made it taste even better. The Hylian man was undeniably morbidly obese, and many of the citizens of Hyrule were a little bit worried about how rapidly he had descended into obesity, but none of them felt brave enough to try and broach the subject with the rapidly-fattening hero. 
Link has taken to using his Purah Pad to teleport him directly to each town to minimize the amount of walking he had to do. For some reason he had been getting very tired even from brief walks lately, and his horse had been similarly exhausted just from short rides. Link materialized outside the shrine at Hateno Village, taking time to gather himself before the arduous walk downhill towards the general store. He somehow still didn’t realize the cause of his growing problems was the hundreds of pounds he’d packed onto his body in mere months. Link’s body was bloated with lard, to the point that he was nearing half a ton of fat on his once-lithe frame. His face was framed by a set of cherubic chipmunk cheeks, already flushed and sweaty just from a few slow, wobbling steps away from the shrine. His neck was buried under a ring of flab, graduating him from a double chin to a pronounced triple chin. His once-toned arms were replaced with bloated sacks of blubber the size of pillows, sagging down his sides and forcing his arms out at an angle even when not in use. His elbows were long buried under all of this lard, and even his wrists and hands were beginning to plump up at the joints, making bending his fingers and grabbing food a chore. His pecs had ballooned into flabby breasts that were just starting to droop down either side of his gut. The tunic he currently wore, his blue Champions Tunic that he was given over one hundred years ago, was stretched tightly across his chest, functioning more as a bra than a more decent article of clothing and riddled with rips and tears from stretching across so much flab. His former muffin top had graduated into a stack of fluffy love handles, pooling over the straight waistband of his trousers and , when combined with his flabby chest, were half of the reason his arms stuck out at such an angle now. His bloated thighs touched at every point no matter how far apart his spread his legs to walk, forcing him into a pronounced waddle. He couldn’t even bend his knees anymore; the flab from his thighs had long since enveloped the joints, joining his meaty calves in the downfall of his once-proud stride.  
His biggest asset, however, was his gut. The slab of lard was a monument to his gluttony, forming an apron of flab that sagged down to his buried knees. Every slow, measured step he took, his stomach slapped against his meaty thighs, sending his entire flabby body jiggling and wobbling endlessly. The obese hero was sweaty and exhausted after just a few steps, panting and wheezing from the exertion of shifting just under half a ton of fat with every shuffling step, but his craving for butter-soaked food kept him from giving up on his journey to the store.  
When the sweaty, huffing pile of lard finally made it, he shoved the door open with his titanic gut, dreading what came next. Link knew intimately well that doors and him didn’t mix these days, even if he refused to accept or acknowledge why. The Hylian was an absolute wall of flab and rolls, trying to force himself through a tiny doorway. The shopkeeper could only stare in horror and fascination as the legendary hero attempted to squeeze his enormous bulk into the store, wheezing from the exertion. He grabbed the doorframe with his pudgy fingers, trying to force his double-wide hips through, but his rolls and folds were firmly wedged. Link continued panting and groaning, his bulky body oozing around either side of the door frame, when an ominous cracking noise started to occur. Suddenly, with a loud snap, the wood of the doorway and the surrounding walls splintered, and Link stumbled through into the shop, his entire body wobbling from the sudden forward momentum. Barreling forward at speeds his obese form weren’t meant to handle, the lard-laden Hylian hero overbalanced, landing on his cascading gut with so much force that it shook the entire building. Merchandise clattered to the floor from the display shelves as shockwaves rippled through his body like an ocean, and he lay on the floor gasping for air after all of his weight knocked it out of his poor, overtaxed lungs. The shopkeeper looked at the damaged doorway in horror, knowing that no matter how much butter the legendary hero was here to purchase, it wouldn’t pay for the repair costs, especially with his increased visits. Something had to be done about the gluttonous hero, but what? 
After the disastrous incident at the Hateno General Store, shopkeepers around Hyrule had begun taking Link’s purchases to him as he waited outside their shops, to minimize damage done to their buildings. It was a solution, for sure, but many worried about what would happen when Link grew too large to make the short walks to their stores from the teleport points at the towns’ shrines. Many ideas were proposed: shop stalls set up right at the shrines just for Link, some sort of horse and cart system to carry the growing hero to his destinations, even a conveyor belt to carry him to the store entrances was suggested! However, Link ended up solving the problem himself while cooking one day. He’d begun using his Ultra Hand powers to help him grab ingredients once his arms became basically useless at grabbing things around his enormous bulk. As he sat on a log that his fat ass almost completely devoured, using his prosthetic’s powers to move a fourth stick of butter into the cooking pot for the large hunk of gourmet meat he was sauteeing, Link got an idea. He used his fat sausage fingers to switch the function of his hand to the Copy ability, which usually only worked for building materials. He noticed that the sticks of butter were able to be copied, somehow. Confused, Link decided to try it out, multiplying one stick of goat butter into ten, and moving the pile onto his chest where he could inspect them better. The sticks of butter had a gentle greenish-blue glow to them, but otherwise appeared to be normal sticks of butter.  
Link devoured the butter-soaked gourmet meat as he contemplated the glowing butter sticks nestled between his ample breasts when suddenly he was struck by an idea. Straining against the rolls of his arm fat, he craned his overburdened arm towards his chest, grabbing a stick of greenish butter in his fattened hands. Link brought the strange butter towards his pudgy lips slowly, his bountiful lard making it hard for him to reach his mouth with his pillowy arms. He finally shoved the stick of butter into his mouth, the oily fats coating his tongue. His blue eyes lit up as he swallowed: it was incredible! The duplicated butter tasted even richer and more delicious than normal goat butter, and that was without cooking it! Link shoved his hands under his bloated pecs, shifting their mass upwards and forcing the nine remaining sticks of magical butter directly in range of his greedy maw. The greedy Hylian began slurping down the stack of entire sticks of butter while using his Ultra Hand to create more copies, piling them up on his chest within easy eating distance. Link had no idea of the future he had just very quickly resigned himself to with this discovery, but the shopkeepers of Hyrule wouldn’t have to worry about their entryways being broken anymore. 
The citizens of Hyrule whispered about what had become of their legendary hero. Shopkeepers quickly noticed his increasingly-frequent trips to their stores had stopped abruptly, leaving them with mixed feelings of concern for what could have happened to Link, but also relieved that they wouldn’t have to keep paying for hefty repair bills anymore. Only those who were closest to Link knew where he’d ended up, and why he’d disappeared altogether. When asked by any concerned Hylians, they would simply assure them that Link was fine, comfortable, and happily retired from adventuring. 
Sidon, the newly-crowned king of Zora’s Domain, walked swiftly through the thick underbrush of a secluded forest region tucked away from any towns or roaming travelers. The red scaled Zora knew the way to go intimately, having made the journey many times over the year or so he’d been coming here in secret. Plus, it wasn’t too hard to find what he was looking for—All he had to do was follow the sounds of loud gurgling and slurping. Sidon crested the top of a hill, looking down into what had once been a lush, forested valley. The trees had long since been buried, the valley completely filled by a churning, wobbling mass of pale flab. He knew the mountainous blob below him was his most cherished partner, Link, the hero of Hyrule. 
Sidon hopped down from the forested hill, sliding on his finned feet until he landed on the soft form below. It was harder than ever to tell exactly what part of Link’s swollen body he was standing upon, but Sidon was pretty sure it was his stomach. His gigantic gut was constantly stuffed with the replicated butter that Link was somehow constantly creating more of, causing the cascading waterfall of flab to grow more and more every moment as his body worked overtime to convert the literal gallons of butter he consumed into adipose. Sidon could feel the mountainesque stomach below his feet groaning and churning, causing the blobby body of his boyfriend to always be in some sort of state of movement even after long ago losing his mobility.  
The Zora king began the long hike towards the center of Link’s growing mass, clinging desperately to whatever rolls and folds he could grab whenever a particularly strong tremor shifted the oceanic mass like tides crashing upon a shore. Sidon crested the top of Link’s stomach rolls after twenty minutes of climbing, trying to identify more parts of the blob’s body to use as landmarks. He could pretty easily find Link’s breasts due to his nipples, though they were a lot lower down than Sidon was now. Link’s tits were so huge that they’d lost all shape and form, sagging under their weight to the point that they drooped towards the lowest rolls of his gut. He could also guess where Link’s arms were from the location of his chest, gazing at the swollen pancake stacks of rolls directly above the meaty breasts. Sidon figured that Link’s hands must be buried under literal feet of flab at this point, looking at the divots where they’d long ago vanished. Even if he could unearth his fands from all of that lard, there was no way he’d be able to use them for anything aside from his Ultra Hand’s powers; his digits must be so coated in fat that they’d be barely recognizable as hands anymore.  
Once he’d figured out where Link’s useless arms were, finding his head was easy. Sidon looked at the recessed dip in the blobby mountain between the boulder-sized fat deposits that used to be Link’s biceps and forearms towards where a constant flow of glowing green liquid was manifesting and pouring downward into. Sidon swiftly scrambled over Link’s bloated cleavage, taking care not to slip; he’d once made that mistake and it took him hours to wrench his leg free from the cavernous crevasse. Once he’d crested the twin hills of lard, it was easy going from there, as Link’s chins had multiplied into a nice staircase of neck rolls. As he descended down, Sidon entered what could only be described as a cavern of fat formed by the encroaching mass of Link’s flabby jowls and collapsing back rolls. He followed the green glow of magically-duplicated butter deeper into the humid cave, the sounds of hungry slurping and desperate moans growing louder and louder. Finally, Sidon reached the end of the vast fat cave and approached his boyfriend’s bloated face eagerly.  
Link’s face was no longer recognizable, so covered in flab that no distinguishable features remained. Fat has long ago collapsed over his forehead, covering his eyes completely. His pointed ears were buried between rolls of cheek and back fat, as was his golden hair. All that remained was his mouth, though even that wasn’t enough to recognize him by. His lips had plumpened considerably, and were pinched between his engorged jowls into a permanent pout as he sucked down hundreds of gallons of melted magical butter. Sidon didn’t mind though, he loved Link no matter how fat he got. The Zora hero plopped himself down on one of Link’s cheeks, kissing his partner’s flabby face before settling down to watch him eat for a while. One thing was for sure, Link sure made a comfortable bed no matter where you laid on him now. 
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kinardsevan · 3 days ago
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𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐢'𝐦 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮
i don't know that i'm satisfied with how this ends, but the stills got me thinking more about the idea of Maddie being the one who tells Buck that he needs to call Tommy, and then I was already working on a coffee date recreation, so have this:
-
Maddie looks at the loaves of bread spread out on the counter and then back up at her brother, tilting her head to the side. 
“Evan. I thought you said you were doing okay,” she states, leaning up at against the counter next to her husband. 
“I am,” he insists. 
“So why are there four loaves of bread on the counter,” Chimney asks, confused. “That seems like you’re overloading your schedule to occupy your time.” 
“I’m not,” Evan counters, looking back and forth between them. They both stare back at him skeptically. 
“Dude, come on,” Chimney insists. “I know that sweater you had on the other night was one of Tommy’s. Between that, the lack of shaving, and now the abundance of food-..”
“I’m dealing,” Evan insists. Maddie sighs, looking over at her husband. He raises his hands and picks up his wine glass before glancing between them. 
“I’m gonna go see what’s on the sports channel,” he states before walking out of the room and into the living room. Maddie moves closer to Evan, rounding the counter. 
“I’m fine,” he repeats, but when Maddie looks up at him with that face—the one that tells him she isn’t buying the shit he’s selling—he sighs and shakes is head. “I mean I should be, shouldn’t I? It’s not like we were together that long.” 
“Six months,” Maddie states. 
Evan nods. “Yeah, and? I mean I was with Taylor for longer. She actually moved in here.” 
Maddie stares at him for a moment and then furrows her brow at him. “Wait, what is that supposed to mean?” 
“Nothing,” Evan insists. “It doesn’t mean anything when Tommy doesn’t think I’d stay with him anyway.” 
“No, no, it clearly means something,” Maddie counters. “I’m not letting you drop it that easily. Talk to me. Tell me what actually happened.” 
Evan huffs, leaning against the counter. 
“We were talking about Abby, and I was telling him how that relationship had been transformative for me, at least until I met him, a-and then I told him that I wanted him to move in with me.” 
“Okay,” Maddie replies, processing his words. “And you told him you love him, right?” 
Evan stares at her as though she’s gone Blue Screen on him and she bobs her head forward, gaping at him slightly. 
“Evan.” She comments. “You told him how you feel, right?” 
“I- I thought- I mean we-..” 
“Okay, I’m sorry, I can’t fake that I’m not paying attention this long,” Chimney states as he crosses back into the kitchen. “You asked Tommy to move in with you without telling him how you feel about him?” 
“I told him I admire him,” Evan argues. 
Maddie inhales a deep breath and shakes her head, trying to remain composed as she returns to Chimney’s side. “What exactly did you say to him?” 
Evan gulps, but then proceeds to explain to both Maddie and Chimney was he said, trying his best not to paraphrase. By the time he’s finished, Maddie and Chimney are looking at each other, both of their jaws slack. 
After a moment, Chimney turns back toward his glass of wine and picks it up and takes a long sip from it. 
“Yeah, I think I might’ve broken up with you too,” Chimney states when he sets the glass back down. 
“What the hell,” Evan counters, waving a hand out at him. 
“Look, Buck, you ran over him like the proverbial steam roller. And I’m sorry, but from the way it sounds, it comes across as being told that you want to live with him because he’s great at being gay and that makes you feel good,” Maddie explains. 
“Not to mention the Brandon of it all,” Chimney mutters, lifting his drink to take another sip. He raises an eyebrow when both Buckley siblings turn toward him. 
“The who?” “Huh?” 
Chimney takes a deep breath, mouthing an ‘oh’ before setting his glass back down. “This is why I’m not allowed to know things,” he mutters. He shakes his head. “Brandon was this kid Tommy dated around the time he was leaving the 118.” 
“I thought he wasn’t out yet,” Evan interjects. 
“He wasn’t,” Chimney answers with a nod. “But Brandon was this kid out of another house, one of the ones Tommy had looked at transferring to, I think. Anyway, you could tell after Gerrard and Sal were gone that he was loosening up and becoming more comfortable with himself, and even though he wasn’t quite there yet, he was getting there.” 
“So?” Evan asks. 
“So, three months into it, he tells me over beers that the guy wants to move in together, make all these plans for the future, is talking about buying a house. The whole nine yards. But Brandon was just coming out of a divorce, with a woman. Sold Tommy the moon, and T went for it. Gave up the place he was in, moved in with this guy into his apartment that he also was sharing with his two kids part-time.” 
Evan gulps, because he can see the writing on the wall. 
“See, Brandon hadn’t been with other men before. And they lasted about three months longer before Tommy found out that he was seeing other people. He alternated between mine and Sal’s couch for a month after that until he got the place he’s in now.” 
“He was in love with him,” Evan surmises in a rasp. 
“He thought he’d found the person he was supposed to be with,” Chimney says with a nod. “And when I tell you it took him years to get over that-..” 
“Fuck,” Evan mutters under his breath, leaning more against the island. 
Maddie waits a moment, glancing back and forth between her brother and her husband before she finally speaks up again. 
“So to be clear, I understand why Tommy panicked and took off, but why would you skip over actually telling him how you feel,” she asks. “I mean you have to get that that’s important. It probably would’ve made a massive difference in the conversation.” 
Evan inhales a deep breath and shakes his head, looking down at the counter. 
“Oh,” Maddie states. “You’re scared too.” 
He looks back up at her, his expression somber. “I mean people leave me. A-and that’s exactly what he did.” 
“Buck,” she coaxes, rounding the counter again. She runs her hand up his back as her other hand curls around the inside of his bicep. “You can’t be mad at him for being scared if you can’t also be honest about how you’re feeling.” 
He glances up at her, and his eyes are so sad that it makes her want to go into her mothering role and order him to call Tommy. 
“What if he won’t listen to me,” he rasps. She leans against his shoulder and gives him a sympathetic look. 
“I mean, I’ve never heard you even mention wanting to marry someone else,” she replies softly. “That’s gotta be worth something, right?” 
Evan stares down at the counter again. 
“You should call him,” Chimney interjects, when they look back up at him, he’s taking another sip of his wine. Maddie just chuckles at him before squeezing Evan’s arm and nodding. She leans up and kisses his cheek. 
“Call him.” 
. . . 
Evan pulls his jacket tighter around his body as he settles into the cafe chair. He’s not entirely sure Tommy will show, even though the other man had texted he would. He can’t help but feel the weight that’s been making it’s home in his chest just a little heavier right now. A week ago, they were celebrating six months from that first kiss, and somehow he’s finding himself sitting at a different café, but still, six months from the day that he’d asked Tommy to be his date to his sister’s wedding. 
So much is different now, though. He didn’t have to guess Tommy’s coffee order because he knows it by heart. There’s a box in his car filled with belongings that he really doesn’t want to give back, but if this discussion doesn’t go in the right direction, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. 
Still, he can’t stop thinking about the guy on the crane from the day before, and how after they’d gotten him off to the hospital, all Evan could think about was how his people had banded around him in the aftermath. His team had kept him alive, and then they’d remained vigilant at his side while he healed. He’d had people show up in his corner every step of the way. It’s not lost on him now that Tommy has faced a life primarily without that same feeling, and that unlike him, Tommy didn’t find a forged family at work. Plus, then there’s the information he learned about the ex-boyfriend, and all of it has him seeing Tommy in an entirely different lens. 
“Hey.” Tommy’s voice is raspier, sadder than the last time he heard it as he comes around the corner of the building. Evan still perks up at the sight of him, although he’s more subdued than the last time they met up like this. 
“Hey,” he replies softly, gesturing toward the chair across from him. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me.” 
Tommy nods, and there’s a rush of pain in Evan’s chest at the lack of of course. 
“I got you a coffee,” he adds, gesturing towards it on the table. Tommy pulls his chair out and sits down. 
“Thanks,” he says, though there’s no mirth in his tone like there was that first time.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think,” Evan states nervously as Tommy takes a sip of the drink. There’s the slightest twitch around his mouth—one the younger man has come to recognize as Tommy thinking that it tastes right. He’s very particular on his flavor and cream-to-sugar ratio, so knowing he’s still getting right gives Evan a flush of pride. “The last time we met like this, I said there was a lot of that we didn’t know about each other.” 
“Practically everything,” Tommy parrots so softly, it barely has any vocal tone in it. Evan nods. 
“Except, I do know things about you now,” Evan counters. “I know- I know that you don’t like to be awake before seven AM if you’re not on shift. I know that you think the perfect setting for the thermostat is always sixty-six, no matter what time of year it is. I know that you take three creamers and the tiniest dash of cinnamon in your coffee.” 
“Buck-..” 
“Let me finish,” Evan counters, cringing at the way that name sounds coming out of Tommy’s mouth. He takes a deep breath and looks around them before continuing. “I know your mom died when you were six, and your dad blamed you for it. I know you spent the next eleven years trying to do anything you could to keep him appeased and a target off your back, including stuffing down who you are so far down that it took you over a decade to crawl back out of that toxic mindset. And I know that all of that left you with scars, even though you don’t talk about them. I know-…I know that you would rather run because it’s easier to protect yourself than sign up for the possibility of getting hurt again.” Evan pauses and gulps as Tommy stares at him, looking very uncomfortable. 
“So I need to apologize,” he says with a breath. 
Tommy furrows his brow at him, baffled by the statement. “You have nothing to apologize for.” 
“Yes, Tommy, I do,” Evan counters, this time more insistent than he had been on that first coffee date.“I  threw a lot at you that night. I- I know that I told you I wanted to move in together, and that I was talking about a future without any practicality behind it because I just lept with both feet like I always do.” 
“I didn’t call things off because of your impulsivity,” Tommy counters. “I did it because-..” 
“Because you’ve been down that road before,” Evan finishes for him. “And it ended badly. I know that about you, too. And, the way I sounded that night…it wasn’t what I should’ve said.” 
“Okay?” Tommy acquiesces. 
Evan takes another breath and leans forward in his seat, gesturing at the space between them. “You said that when I asked you to move in with me, that I was still figuring myself out, and that everything was still new and exciting for me. And the thing is, you’re right, and you’re wrong. You’re right that things are new and exciting, but not because they’re with a man; it’s because they’re with you. And six months ago when I told you that I didn’t know what I was ready for, that was true, but now I do. It’s not about being ready for something different, Tommy, it’s about being ready for something different with you. S-so when I say I lept with both feet the other night without thinking, I missed a step in there.” 
Tommy stares at him apprehensively, giving him the space to continue. Evan sits up a little straighter. 
“I got so caught up in the process of commenting on the ways things have changed and all that you’ve done to get yourself to where you are now that I never stopped to consider how it would sound coming out of my mouth. A-and part of that was because I thought if I just convinced you to stay with me, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as bad if you decided that I was too much.” 
Tommy leans back in his seat, eyes widening slightly at Evan’s words. 
“I um, I know about Brandon,” he states. “And on the subject of exes, I never told you about Taylor, or how Lucy played into of how things ended with her.” He inhales a breath and then proceeds to explain Lucy’s time at the 118, their shared kiss, and how he’d been living with Taylor at the time. “And the thing is, when I moved in with her and told her I loved her, it was from a selfish place, o-of wanting to keep her around because people just kept leaving, and I couldn’t stand to lose anyone else.” 
Tommy lets out a soft sigh and leans forward. “Evan.” 
Evan shakes his head. “No. Don’t- it’s not- I’m not saying all of that because I’m chasing after you to keep you from leaving. I- I mean I am, but not like that. I mean to say that, I trapped Taylor, however unintentionally, with the idea that if she was with me, that I could make it work. Eventually, it got to the point where I couldn’t keep trying to make the pieces fit, and we split up.” 
Tommy nods. 
“But this isn’t that,” Evan continues. “This has never been that. I asked you to move in with me because I want to be with you day and night. B-because I see a future with you, and because nothing has ever felt as right as this has felt. And I understand that maybe- no, it was moving too fast. And that I skipped right over the part where I should’ve told you that I want to be with you not because it feels good or because I think you being gay makes me better at being bisexual, or anything like that. I want to be with you because I’m in love with you.” 
Tommy takes a deep breath at his statement. 
“I don’t expect you to say it back if you’re not there, a-and I don’t expect you to move in with me. That was an impulsive decision. But I’m not in a place where I’m ready to give up on this,” he states. “I love you enough that I’m willing to go at your pace this time.” 
Tommy stares at him for a beat, quiet and contemplative. “Are you sure about this?” 
“Am I sure that I love you?” Evan counters. “That I’m pretty positive on.” 
The response forces a small smile onto Tommy’s face. After a breath, he gives a small nod. 
“Okay.” 
“Yeah?” Evan asks him. 
Tommy gulps and nods. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Because I love you, too.” 
Evan grins at him, at this time, it’s Tommy who reaches across the table and grabs his hand, squeezing it. 
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iamnotoriginalphil · 14 hours ago
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To Be Taught a Lesson (Professor!Agatha Harkness x f!Reader)
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Synopsis: Agatha has some anger to work out. Lucky for her, you happen to be right within touching distance.
Words: 6.9k
Warnings: Student/teacher relationship, power imbalance, toxic relationship, age gap (all 18+), corruption kink if you squint, bondage, swearing, degradation, marking, vibrator, begging, jealousy, possessiveness, overstimulation, dom!Agatha, sub!R
Tags: @sasheemo @buttercandy16 @chlondykebar @toomanylesbiancouples @midnight-lestrange @babybeeelle
You were curled up on the swing on Agatha’s back porch. Large swathes of skin were on show, your legs bare despite the chill in the air. Her sweater, the cashmere one that had cost an arm and a leg, looked good on you. With your head bent over the book in your lap, hair falling forward from where it had come free from the bun you’d thrown it into that morning, sunlight hitting your body, you glowed.
She looked away from you, back to the garden. The gardener had returned, planting something for the first blush of spring. You hadn’t even seemed to notice his arrival, buried in a book you’d been pouring over for days now. She knew that book. It was achingly familiar, the leather cover and embossed letters like a dream from another lifetime.
You tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear. Her eyes followed it, lingering long after your fingers had fallen back into your lap. Your teeth were worrying at your lower lip, a move that had grown familiar over the months of watching you. Every time you read, lost in thought, working on something, those teeth would sink in and she would feel her entire body come alive. Knowing what it felt when it was her teeth had only made the entire experience worse.
She wasn’t sure you knew exactly how tempting you were. You’d wandered into that library, in that insufferable bore’s home, and she’d known she had to have you. All wide eyed innocence and desperation, you’d been delicious from the moment she’d laid eyes on you.
And then you’d proven yourself to be exceptional.
Now, knowing you, knowing your body and your soul, there was nothing she wouldn’t do to keep you. Some nights she’d watch you sleep, worn out from her ministrations, and feel her heart squeeze. It wasn’t fair, how you impacted her, the effect you had on her, and you had no idea. None. That with a single word you could bring her to her knees.
You glanced up, lips parted on a soft sigh, eyes alighting on her. Your smile was immediate, your entire being brightening, melting back into the cushions on the swing. Your foot was on the wooden slats of the porch, gentle rocking yourself, bare leg making her mouth water.
“Anything else you need, Miss Harkness?”
She snarled, turning towards the gardener lingering was at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes widened, taking a step back from her.
“No,” she replied, the eye roll obvious in her voice, “get out.”
She watched him scurry away, a sick sense of pleasure coursing through her body. She shook her hair back from her face, her finger brushing back those strands caught in the wind. When she turned back to you, it was to find sparkling eyes and a hidden smile turned in her direction. The warmth that melted through her veins left her feeling unsettled.
“Do you aim to scare everyone you cross paths with?” you asked, slowing your rocking.
“Do I scare you, pet?” she asked in return.
You shook your head, lip caught between your teeth, keeping your pretty smile from blooming over your face. You made such a nice picture, in her clothes, bruises on your skin left from her lips and her fingers, looking at her like she was the only thing you could see. She wanted to devour you, to chain you up and keep you from ever leaving, to hold you so close and so gentle that nothing ever happened to you.
She sauntered towards you, hands in pockets, staring down at you. You watched her, mouth falling open, eyes sweeping over her body. She revelled when you looked at her like that, like she was every dream you’d ever had, like you were an innocent hoping to be corrupted.
She knew you were anything but innocent.
“I could, if you liked,” she said, stopping in front of you, “would you like to be scared?”
“I’d rather get my heart rate up over something else,” you said in that way that sounded so sweet but let her now what a naughty pet you could be.
Your hand reached for her, clutching at her shirt, tugging on her until she was close enough to curl her hands around you, to seek out your bare skin, to make you shiver. She skimmed her fingertips along your leg, pausing at the hem of the sweater you were in.
“I believe this is mine,” she said, pinching it.
“You can have it back if you want,” you said, stretching your leg out in a move that had her wanting to sink her teeth into your skin, “but you’ll have to take it off me yourself.”
You had grown so much since that girl she’d first met, careful to always say the right thing, stealing glances, wanting something you thought you couldn’t have. She chuckled, running her fingertips back down your leg, luxuriating in the warm skin under her touch.
“I wouldn’t bother,” she said.
You pouted and she knew you were doing your best to tempt her.
“It looks so pretty on you. Why deny myself the pleasure of seeing you in it?” she murmured.
Your eyes brightened, your smile turning pleased. She loved when she could please you. Your gaze turned down, head dipping, hair falling into your face, hiding you from her.
“None of that, kitten,” she said, her fingers raising your chin again.
Your fingers were still clutching her shirt. When you tightened them, pulling her closer, she let you without argument, wanting it as much as you seemed to.
“Sit with me?” you asked, and she couldn’t say no to you.
Your legs shifted as she sat beside you, feet pressing into her thigh. It was like you were unable to stay away from her, to keep yourself from touching her in some way. It had been so long since someone had been so intent on her. You’d made your promises of forever, but your actions were what made her believe there was a chance they would be true. You always reached for her, the moment she was in the same room. Your eyes always turned to her. Your entire focus caught on her. It was nice to know she was the only thing you could see.
“What are you reading, kitten?” she asked, even though she knew the answer.
“A manual on how to be a witch,” you replied, smile turning impish.
She could imagine you as a witch. Dancing under the moonlight with a group of women, power coursing through your veins, brewing up potions. You’d take to it like a duck to water, your natural habitat. You’d be formidable with magic running in your veins.
“The one I sent you for?” she asked, delicate as she could be.
“Rio returned it,” you said, eyes darting up to her then back down to the book in your lap.
“How kind of her.” She wasn’t trying to hide her sarcasm.
“Are you mad?” you asked.
“Not at you, kitten.”
She curled her fingers around your ankle, tugging until your foot was in her lap. With a featherlight touch, she ran her index finger along the arch of your foot. You squirmed, trying to pull out of her hold. She did it again, tightening her hold, refusing to let you go.
“Agatha,” you whined and she so loved that sound. Her name on your lips was a delight she wasn’t sure she would ever grow tired of.
“Yes, pet?” she asked, still stroking your skin.
“Tickles,” you complained.
She continued for another few moments, enjoying the way you wiggled, the noises of complaint you made, but the way you stopped trying to pull away. She wasn’t lying when she’d told you she had complete control over your body. And the best part was the way you submitted to her so easily. She loved how easily she could take control, and how easily you let it go.
She placed your foot down again, stopping the torture. Holding it in her lap, she began the rocking of the swing again. Your toes flexed against her thigh. When she looked back to you, you were watching her with such a heartbreakingly fond expression on her face. It made her want to bury herself in you.
“So have you learnt how to be a witch?” she asked rather than letting herself examine that too closely.
“Maybe,” you said, “can I try reading your palm?”
“Are you hoping to read my fortunes?” she asked, but she was already presenting her hand to you, turning her body so she was sitting crossed legged across from you. You moved your body to mirror her.
“Perhaps I just want to know if fate knows what I know,” you said, taking it in both of yours.
“And what do you know?” she asked.
You flashed her a smile.
“That our lives will be entwined forever.”
You bent your head over her palm, fingertips tracing over whatever you saw there. She let herself study you as you did, the way she had lost hours to in her office, in her bed, on her couch. Every time she found something new in your features, something new to enjoy, something new that delighted her. Your face was more familiar to her than her own, and yet she couldn’t look away.
“So there’s your life line,” you said, finger brushing her skin like she was something precious, “it’s nice and long so you’ll probably live forever.”
You glanced up at her, grinning. Her own smile was an automatic response. Your fingertips were still brushing over her palm, making her head spin.
“It says you’re vibrant and full of life. No breaks in it either so you should have good health. No need for that nurses outfit I bought then.”
Her fingers closed around yours, holding them still.
“And when did you have time to go buy a nurse outfit?” she asked.
“A few years ago for halloween,” you replied, “I got a lot of free drinks in it.”
She gritted her teeth, knowing it was irrational to be mad about any liaisons you’d had before meeting her but just the thought of anyone looking at you with lust had her blood boiling. You were hers, and if she had her way, everyone would know that. She’d have her name branded over your skin and ensure anyone who looked at you felt the fear they should. No one crossed her and no one coveted what was hers.
Not when it came to you.
“And you wanted to wear it for me?” she asked through her gritted teeth.
“I thought you might like it,” you said, looking at her through your eyelashes.
Oh, you could ruin her with just that look.
“Of course, maybe you’d prefer me in something else,” you said, “I could dress up as a witch for you if you’d like.”
“You think I’d like you to dress up for me?” she asked.
“Are you saying you wouldn’t like to see me in my sexy little outfits?”
You were playing with fire. You had to know that. And yet you kept smiling at her like you were some kind of fucking angel.
“Go back to your palm reading,” she said, rather than giving you an answer.
You lingered, eyes sparkling at her, before looking down at her palm once again. She released your wandering fingers. You began tracing her skin again.
“The head line. A nice long clear line. You’re clever, but then, everyone knows that. A brilliant mind for a brilliant woman.” Your voice was so soft, “but this curve means you’re creative.”
Your lips ticked up and she was desperate to know what you were thinking. She could have asked but the answer might shatter her.
“And there’s your fate line. It starts where your life line does, speaking to your ambition and self-confidence. It’s not very clear though, so you might not have good luck. I think.”
Your self deprecating chuckle was familiar to her in a way that made her heart skip a beat. She knew you so well.
“Your marriage line is short so you might never get married and if you do it’ll be later in life.”
She felt her breath catch.
“And then there’s your love line.” You glanced up at her again before returning back to her hand, “interesting. Very interesting.”
“What is?” she asked, surprised how much she wanted to hear your answer.
“This says you’re going to have a happy long love.” Your fingers were still stroking over her skin, “and that you’re an exceptional lover.”
“It does not,” she said but she was smiling.
“It does. Right here.”
You tilted her palm towards her, your finger running along one of the line on her palm. She looked at it, more focused on the look of your skin against hers. You stroked her palm again and tilted it back towards yourself, holding it in your lap like it was something to be treasured.
“And then hand shape matters too,” you said.
You had begun to draw patterns on her palm, and she could see the cogs working in your brain. The book was still in your lap, just underneath her hand, the image of a palm facing up towards you. She wished she had a window into your brain, that she could rifle through your thoughts the way she could through that book.
“Agatha,” you said, voice quiet and she knew you weren’t about to tell her about her hand shape.
“Yes, pet?” she asked, bracing for whatever was about to come out of your mouth.
“Who’s Wanda?”
She hadn’t braced well enough.
It was like being kicked in the gut, her breath rushing out of her. Her ribs ached and heart was squeezing hard. It was as if her vision was tunnelling, focused on that one point of contact between you, her hand and yours and that damned book. She should have never sent you to go get it.
“Where did you get that name?” she asked, her voice not sounding her own.
You flinched back, hands dropping hers and you looked up at her. Your wide eyed innocence wasn’t what she wanted to see.
“Rio. She said… she said I should know what happened,” you said.
“She had no right,” she snarled.
Her anger propelled her out of the swing, leaving you behind as she tried to get a handle on the emotions coursing through her body. You stayed behind, giving her space, not drawing closer the way you often did.
“Is she why you hate Rio?” you asked.
“No,” she said, “that’s a different issue entirely.”
The swing creaked. She couldn’t look at you, not when there was still so much anger in her. If she did she might break you, irreversibly, and just the thought of destroying you had her seizing with panic. So it was better she continued looking out over her garden rather than face you.
“Why can’t you tell me?”
Her eyes squeezed shut, not liking how lost you sounded. There was so much you didn’t understand, so much she hadn’t told you. It wasn’t lying. It wasn’t. She’d been waiting.
She’d had to be sure you wouldn’t be like Wanda.
“Is it really that bad?” you asked.
“Does it matter?”
She turned to you. You’d pulled your knees up, curling your arms around your legs, chin resting on top. Watching her with those big sad eyes that she was certain could get her to do anything, you were so solemn. Her fingers clenched at her side, fighting against the impulse to reach out.
“She was your student, right?” you asked, “I know there were others, that I’m not the first.”
“Rio shouldn’t have told you that,” she said.
“I’m glad she did. I want to know,” you said.
She turned her face away from you, leaning back against the railing.
“And it doesn’t matter. Because I know I’ll be the last one.”
Her head snapped towards you. You were still watching her, so serious, and so perfect. She had no idea how something so lovely had landed in her lap.
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“Just that I plan on never letting you go. No one will come after me. This is it. And if you’re not okay with that I don’t really give a fuck. I’ll convince you if you’re not but there will never be anyone else for me but you,” you said, so fierce. Fire ran through your veins and it left her breathless.
She should have never doubted you.
“Wanda was my student ten years ago. The last student I mentored. I fell in love and she didn’t. When she graduated, and she graduated top of her class under my guidance, she took something from me. The book I’d been working on. She took it and when I confronted her about it she threatened to go to the administration about our relationship,” she said, the secrets finally spilling forth, “last I heard she was married with twin boys. Rio made sure to keep me abreast of her situation.”
“Agatha,” you sighed.
She hated the pity in your voice. Shaking her head, she turned back to the garden.
“She took everything from me. She’s the reason my career has stagnated for so long. I can’t move forward with my research without her destroying me and it feels unfinished so I can’t move on to something new,” she said.
The swing creaked again. She couldn’t bear to look at you, to see the pity she knew would be swimming in your eyes. There was a reason she hadn’t told you. Any weakness couldn’t be shown. She was strong and capable and there were no chinks in her armour. No chance of hurting her.
Arms curled around her body, tugging her towards a warm body. Your chin hooked over her shoulder, tightening your arms around her.
“You didn’t deserve that,” you said, voice soft, but there was steel there.
“No, I didn’t,” she replied.
“I’ll curse her for you,” you offered, “make it so she can’t even say your name.”
“Don’t tempt me, kitten.”
You nuzzled against her neck, lips brushing over her skin. She lent back, letting you hold her up. Pressing a kiss to her skin, you hummed. She let out a long breath, fingers twining through yours.
“Whatever you want, I’ll do it,” you murmured into her neck.
You’d been nothing but good to her. So sweet and so pliable and so accommodating. You were a literal dream for her.
So why was her stomach still roiling?
“Rio had no right to bring this up with you,” she said after a moment of silence.
“She’s had no right to do any of it,” you said.
She spun in your arms, slow as she thought over what she wanted. Mostly, she needed an outlet for her anger and there were no little students around to bear the brunt of it. No, all she had was you.
“You should have walked away when she tried to talk to you,” she said.
“Agatha, she had me pinned to a tree,” you said, fingers gently brushing her hair away from her face.
That was a bit of information you’d failed to mention when reporting back to her.
“She did?” Her fingers caught your chin, forcing you to look at her, “was she flirting with you?”
“Maybe.”
Her hold on you tightened. You shifted your weight from foot to foot but you didn’t try to pull away from her. Your lips parted and you were a picture of temptation.
“You don’t know? Or you don’t want to tell me the truth?” she asked, voice lowering.
You were close enough she could feel you shiver.
“I don’t think she was serious about it,” you said.
“You don’t know her like I do,” she said, “such a pretty little thing like you? She could never resist.”
“I’m not that irresistible,” you laughed.
You had no idea.
“Oh my sweet kitten.” Her nails dug in to your skin, “such a good girl. So innocent. You’re a siren call to her. You are everything that tempts her.”
“I’m not that innocent,” you pouted.
“You’re right. She doesn’t know what a naughty pet you can be.”
She spun the two of you, pressing your back into the railing. You gasped and your eyes widened. That was the innocent look she was talking about. It was the one that would drive Rio wild if she saw it. But if anyone was going to corrupt you, it was going to be her.
“Agatha,” you said, voice small and desperate and so delicious she wanted to drown in it.
“But she can’t have you, can she, pet?” she asked, tipping your chin up.
“No,” you said.
“Because you belong to me, don’t you, pet?” she asked.
“Yes,” you breathed.
“Then go be a good girl and wait for me on the bed.”
She let you go and stepped back. You lingered a moment, staring into her face, before you scrabbled away, rushing to follow her orders. She watched you, something dark curling through her veins. You paused, looking back at her over your shoulder, her sweater clinging to your curves. With a sly smile, you ran up the stairs, bare legs flashing.
You were in so much trouble.
She flicked the cover of the book closed, wrinkling her nose at the entire thing. Throwing it onto the kitchen counter, she was not being careful with it. If Rio was going to plant a reminder of her presence in her home, she wasn’t going to treat it with any kind of reverence. No, that would be kept all for you.
You were kneeling in the middle of her bed, the sweater pooling around the top of your thighs, hair loose. Teeth were worrying at your lower lip and your eyes were bright. You’d tugged the sleeves over your hands, looking the picture of innocence. You’d understood exactly what she wanted.
She was never letting you go.
“Look at you, following instructions for me,” she murmured, stepping into the room proper.
“Anything for you,” you said.
Her fingertips ghosted over the apple of your cheeks, looking down on you. Your eyes watched her from under lowered lashes, blinking as she let herself touch you. You were so plaint beneath her fingers.
“What am I going to do with you?” she asked, eyes sweeping over your body.
“Whatever you want,” you replied, sounding so breathless she’d be worried if she didn’t know it was all an act to excite her.
“That’s right, pet. I’ll do whatever I want to you and that pretty pussy between your thighs,” she said.
You made such a wonderful little noise. Leaning down, she let her breath ghost over your lips, grinning when you tipped your face up, straining towards her. She shoved you back, your back hitting the mattress. Crawling over your body, she felt you squirm.
“Are you wet, pet?” she asked.
“Uh huh,” you said.
“Are you making a mess on my cashmere sweater?” she asked.
You made another small noise. Her fingers dipped down, feeling how wet you were, seeking out evidence of you dripping onto her very expensive sweater. She already had a plan of how to punish you for it.
She grinned.
“Would you look at that,” she murmured, “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already dripping for me.”
“Want you, Agatha,” you whined.
“You’re always such a desperate little thing. I bet you’d let anyone fuck you if they could get you off,” she said.
“No, no, only you,” you said.
“Don’t lie to me, pet. When Rio had you pinned to that tree I bet you were gagging to have her knuckles deep inside of you. If she offered you’d jump at the chance. You’re such a desperate little slut you don’t care who it is as long as it feels good,” she said, fingers featherlight as they ran through your folds.
“Only you,” you whimpered again, hips bucking into her hand as you tried to urge her on.
“I bet you got yourself off to the feeling of her pinning you to that tree. Was that why you came home so desperate for me? You got down on your knees right there in the kitchen for me because she left you all riled up. Should I send her a thank you note for sending you home in such a state?” she asked, watching you while her fingers brushed over your clit.
“Agatha,” you moaned, fingers clenching in her sheets.
“Or maybe I should offer her a go with you? A nice thank you for all the pleasure I’ve gotten from you. I’m sure you’d enjoy that,” she said, knowing she was being mean but not caring.
“No,” you moaned.
“No you wouldn’t enjoy that? Because I think you would. I think you’re such a slut it doesn’t matter who you’re in bed with. You don’t discriminate as long as they can fuck you good and proper,” she said, ��you’re nothing but a dirty whore.”
“Agatha,” you whimpered.
She removed her hand from between your legs, forcing her fingers between your lips. You lapped at her skin, licking away the mess you’d made, sucking on them until your cheeks hollowed. You were watching her, such heat in your eyes it made her feel on fire.
She drew them from between your lips, wiping them dry on the sweater still encasing your body. With swift hands, she tugged it off your body, throwing it aside. Completely bare before her, all she could think of was the way you’d been sauntering around the house all morning like that. Nothing but a thin sweater between her and your body. You were such a little tease, knowing exactly what it would do to her.
“Parading yourself around in front of the gardener like that, I bet you would have let him take you right there on the lawn,” she said, “I bet you would have liked it if I’d watched.”
“There’s no one but you,” you whispered.
She scoffed but her hands were busy on your skin, feeling how soft it was beneath her touch. You arched into her, presenting yourself so beautifully for her. Fingers pinched at your nipples, watching the way your eyes slid closed, lips parting in a soft sigh. You knew how to drive her wild, to tempt her into losing control.
She would not be losing control.
With a strong grip, she manoeuvred you further up the bed. Catching both of your wrists, she lent over the top of you, securing them above your head. You tugged on them, your bonds, finding them unforgiving. Agatha grinned down at you.
“No chance of you slipping away to one of those other beds you warm now. Maybe I’ll leave you tired up here for days, use you to my heart’s content until you’re all fucked out,” she mused, finger tips brushing down your body.
She paused on your nipples, flicking them. You hissed, arching up into her touch, looking at her from under hooded eyelids. That was the look of her pet who thought she was going to get exactly what she wanted. The kind who thought she could get what she wanted by pouting her pretty lips and doing what she was told. The kind that thought she was a good girl.
How wrong you were.
It wasn’t until you were squirming on the mattress, your nipples pinched between her fingers, that she considered what she should do to you first. Spread out for her, bare to her gaze, you were the most beautiful view. She licked a long strip between your breasts.
“You’re so easy, pet. You’d let anyone tie you up like this,” she murmured into your skin.
You shook your head, whimpering when she harshly twisted one of your nipples. You were always so responsive to her, just a sweet little thing for her, just as she knew you would be that first time she laid eyes on you. Every part of you yearned to please her and you’d never made a secret of that fact. It alway sent a thrill through her.
“Should I keep you right here? Never let you escape?” she asked.
“Please,” you begged, “keep me forever.”
Her nose brushed along the soft curve of your breast, lips pressing to your skin. Your spine arched, offering yourself up to her. Such a good pet. Her teeth sunk in, your gasp gratifying. She wanted to see her teeth marks for days to come, your body marked as hers. She’d collar you, her name burned into your skin, make it clear to anyone who so much as glanced at you who you belonged to.
“You are rather beautiful,” she murmured, “I can’t blame them all for wanting you.”
Your fingers clenched around nothing, hips shifting on the mattress. Straddling you, she could see the way your eyes were beginning to glaze over, lips parted as you watched her, breathing growing faster under her hands.
“Who wouldn’t want you?” she asked, still gazing down on you.
She ran her hands down your body, leaving your breasts behind. Your skin was so warm against her palms. She could spend forever touching you and it would never be enough.
“You’re entirely too temping, pet. You have no idea what you do to me,” she said.
“Agatha,” you whimpered, “please.”
“Let me taste you.”
She slipped down your body, strong hands pulling your thighs apart. You were glistening in the afternoon light, so beautiful for her, and all for her. She lingered, drinking in the moment, wanting to feel the power she held.
Burying herself between your legs, she let herself taste you. She would never grow tired of that taste, the way you always exhaled softly, the cant of your hips towards her mouth. You never made it a secret how much you wanted her, how good she made you feel, how much you desired her. Even when she wasn’t between your legs, you desired her. Every single part of her. Even the bits she wasn’t always sure about.
Her fingers dug in as she held your legs open, wider than she knew was comfortable for you, but she didn’t care. She was made to fit between them and she would do what she wanted to get closer. You let out a shuddery breath, hips bucking into her mouth.
Her tongue teased you, grin hidden when you moaned her name. If only all those other stuffy professors could see her good girl, tied up and desperate for her touch. They would be shocked how dirty you could be. That wide eyed innocence was nothing but an act and just knowing she brought out this side of you with so little work was such a turn on.
You were begging her, a constant stream of words. You were writhing against the mattress, hips pressing closer to her. Her lips wrapped around your clit, that wonderful bundle of nerves that had you turning into a babbling mess. She dragged her eyes up your body, finding you watching her already. She flushed, loving being watched by you. Your eyes were the only ones she wanted on her, and just a glance from you could turn her breathless. A lovestruck fool. That’s what you’d turned her into.
It was pathetic.
She stopped going easy on you, turning rough again. This was all your fault. You encouraged everyone to become enamoured with you. She watched the way people looked at you when you walked across campus with her. They feared her but they were drawn to you. And the worst of it was you clearly didn’t realise it.
She wanted to snarl at the crowds of people who looked at you like you were something to covet. Like they wanted you. Like they could have you.
She had to teach you to stop encouraging them.
You cried out her name and she realised without even planning it, she’d made you cum. She’d been distracted, missing it. Too bad for you. You’d just have to go again. And she wouldn’t be stopping until she’d drunk her fill.
You whimpered, straining against your bonds, but you didn’t try and get away from her. She’d trained you so well. You took everything she gave, no questions asked.
She watched the way pleasure played over your face. It was a heady feeling, knowing she was the cause of that. She gave you no time to catch your breath, wanting to watch you. She was greedy, she knew it, but why bother denying herself when she knew you weren’t going to complain. Your legs were trembling, and your breathing was unsteady.
She loved the way you moaned her name.
Your body tensed, hips rising to meet her mouth. She lapped at you, refusing to miss a drop. You whimpered, a soft mewling noise, trying to move your hips away from her. Her hands only held you tighter, bruising your pretty skin, wanting more. She always wanted more of you.
“Agatha,” you pleaded, “it’s too much.”
“It’s too much when I say it’s too much,” she said.
But, looking at your face, the way you were wriggling, the squirming, she sat back on her haunches. And even so, you made a pained noise when she stopped touching you.
You watched her as she got off the bed. Her eyes swept over your body, lingering as she thought about all the things she wanted from you. She ran her fingertips along the arch of your foot, enjoying the way you squirmed.
“I’ll be right back,” she promised.
She considered her collection of toys. She had her favourites but now it was about you. Plucking one up, she turned to you. You were watching her from under hooded eyes, hair sticking to your temple, legs pressed together again. A smirk stretched over her face.
“Come on, pet. Show me how pretty your pussy is,” she said.
You parted your legs again, welcoming her back to her rightful place. The buzz of the vibrator in her hand had your breath hitching.
“Agatha,” you said.
“I know you can do better than that. You’re usually so insatiable. Don’t tell me you don’t want this,” she tutted.
When she pressed the vibrator between your legs, a strangled groan came from your lips. Your hips were already rising to meet it, squirming as you rolled against it. She held it there, watching you rut against her like the animal you were. All those crowds of people had no idea you were such a desperate little slut. That you would do anything to get your orgasm.
That you would do anything to get her to give you an orgasm.
She lent forward, capturing one nipple between her lips. She was harsh with you, refusing to be gentle, to go easy on you. This was what you deserved, welcoming Rio into your life to flirt and stir up trouble. That woman would never do this to you. She’d make sure of it.
You were arching up into her mouth, giving her everything. There was no chance anyone else was ever going to have you like this. No one else deserved to see you like this. This was only for her.
The noise you made was music to her ears. It only made her press the toy against you harder. You were whimpering above her, shuddering, tugging on your bonds. She let her teeth sink in to your skin, tasting you, ignoring the way you whined.
Your legs were pushing together, her hand caught between them. Tutting, she sat up again. Leaving the vibrator between your legs, she shuffled down the mattress. Catching one ankle, she tugged it towards the corner of the bed, securing it in place. You were looking at her with big pleading eyes but she ignored you, doing the same with the other ankle. You were spread out for her, swollen and dripping, making a mess of the sheets.
“No point complaining now, pet. You’re the desperate little slut willing to do anything for an orgasm. I’m just giving you exactly what you want. You don’t get to decide how many you get. Just be thankful I’m so willing to indulge you,” she said.
You made such a small noise, soft and sweet and so pathetic it made her grin. She swept her fingers through your folds, gathering your wetness. Her tongue dragged up her finger before sliding it between her lips. Her other hand found the vibrator again, pressing it to your clit, harsh, unrelenting, forcing you to feel more.
Even as you made those noises your hips kept rolling against the vibrator, grinding against it. It was like you couldn’t help it. Even when it was too much you wanted more.
She wouldn’t survive losing you.
Your back arched up off the mattress, almost bowing in half. Her name was barely intelligible on your lips but she knew. You only saw her. She was the only one to you. And she was going to make sure it stayed that way.
She slipped between your legs again, needing to taste you again. You whimpered but you didn’t argue this time. You were so well trained.
She lavished attention on you, tasting deeper, her tongue teasing at your entrance. Your eyes were squeezed closed but she could see the tear slipping down into your hair.
“Come on, pet. You can give me one more, can’t you?” she asked.
You nodded your head. She sucked a bruise into the skin over your hip, knowing she’d want to see it later. Returning to your throbbing core, she let her tongue penetrate you, licking deeper. She wanted to feel it this time.
When your internal muscles clenched and you made a broken noise above her, she knew. Turning off the vibrator in her hand, she tossed it aside, pressing a chaste kiss to your swollen clit. You shifted your hips away, but it was sluggish.
She was gentle as she moved down your legs, untying you. Her hands were soft as they stroked over your skin. Pressing soft kisses to your skin, she climbed up your body. She tugged the bonds off your wrists, lowering your arms. Your wrists were rubbed raw, bruises already forming on your skin. You shuffled closer to her, boneless and graceless, letting her rub the circulation back to your hands.
“You did so well for me,” she murmured.
You mumbled something, too quiet for her to hear. She pressed kisses to the top of your head, keeping you resting against her body. Her fingers ran through your hair, untangling the knots she knew she’d caused.
“I’ll be back in a second,” she said after a while.
“‘Kay,” you said, sounding so tired.
She lingered in the doorway for a moment, gazing down at you. You were so soft and malleable, worn out from everything she’d put you through. She would happily spend the rest of her life seeing you like this.
You were everything she’d ever wanted. She ached with it, how much she wanted you. Not even just sexually. It was everything about you that she wanted at all times of the day. Even the few times you weren’t with her, she missed you. It was ruining her.
You were ruining her.
With a warm flannel she cleaned you up, careful with your body. You let her, so pliable in this state. She pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your knee, nose nuzzling at your skin. You giggled, quiet, a little slurred. She tossed the flannel aside and crawled back up to you.
Her arms curled around you, letting you sprawl over her chest. You pressed your face into the crook of her neck, your breath ghosting over her skin. She trailed her fingertips up and down your spine, feeling you melt against her.
“No one even comes close to comparing to you,” she whispered, not sure if you could hear her.
Your lips brushed against her skin and you let out a soft sigh. She tightened her arms around you, refusing to let go. You burrowed closer, needy for her. She kept pressing kisses to your hairline, listening to your breathing, stroking your skin.
“Do you really think I’m irresistible?” you asked after some time had passed.
“You have no idea,” she replied.
You made a pleased little sound, wiggling closer.
“You know it doesn’t matter because no one will ever replace you, right?” you asked.
“I know,” she said, and it was so easy to believe it.
Your head tilted up and she felt you kiss the underside of her jaw. She threaded her fingers through yours, holding your hand.
“You know, you never finished reading my palm,” she said, looking down at your joined hands.
“What?” You sounded so sweetly confused.
“You said hand shape matters. So what hand shape do I have, kitten?” she asked.
“It doesn’t matter.” You tilted your chin up to look her in the face, “as long as we’re together you’re going to have a wonderful life.”
Maybe you could read the future because that sounded accurate to her. With you by her side, the future looked so much brighter than she ever could have expected. She couldn’t wait to experience it with you.
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frenchkisstheabyss · 3 days ago
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♡ 𝕒 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕞𝕖 ♡
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♡ Pairing: boyfriend!jeongin x girlfriend!chubby!fem!reader
♡ Genre: fluff/comfort
♡ Summary: Jeongin's the type of boyfriend who never makes you question how much he cares for you. Still, there's one nagging insecurity you haven't been able to move past: Letting him see you naked. Sick of letting your fear get the best of you, you decide that tonight's the night to finally open up to him and it turns out you might've been afraid of nothing all along.
♡ Word Count: 2.1k-ish
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♡ Warnings: body insecurities, nudity, a lil making out, mentions of sex, jeongin loves to touch your body, praise, and just all around fluffiness otherwise
♡ A/N: This started out as an anon request but I lost the post for that request (brb crying) so now we have a lil I.N comfort fic that will hopefully make my chubby Jeongin biased babes feel good in their skin cause you totally deserve to.
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Moments like these Jeongin wishes could last forever. Between touring, appearances, and studio sessions his schedule’s been brutal lately, leaving him with little to no time to spend with the one girl he treasures most in the world—you. But tonight none of that matters. The world beyond the walls of his apartment doesn’t exist. There’s only him cozied up under a blanket on the couch with you cuddled against his body, your head resting on his chest as you lazily play with the strings of his hoodie.
The room’s dark except for the glow of the television. A movie’s playing but neither of you are truly watching it. His eyes are glued to you, committing to memory how beautiful you are from this angle. You seem so comfortable in his arms, so at peace, and the feeling’s infinitely mutual. 
Your own gaze is fixed on the screen but every image and sound you take in is passive. What you’re truly focused on is a thought that’s been cycling through your brain all night. Before you left to head over here you told your roommate not to wait up, you’d be spending the night at Jeongin’s place. Never one to pass up the opportunity to tease you, she asked if you needed to borrow a sweater or something to sleep in. You instantly regretted admitting to her over drinks that Jeongin has yet to see you naked, even after months of being together.
Whenever you have sex you keep the lights off and throw your clothes back on immediately after. If you shower and he’s around you always make sure to bring your clothes with you into the bathroom. Even Jeongin, who never wears anything to bed, always has something on when you sleep over to make you more comfortable. 
It’s nothing he’s ever complained about or tried to make you feel guilty for. More than anything he just seems happy to be with you, accepting your boundaries without hesitation. It’s one of a million reasons you’ve come to love him as much as you do. Still, you know that hiding from him isn’t something you can do forever. It isn’t something that you want to do forever.
“Baby” he says sweetly, petting your cheek, “You ready for bed?”
You take a deep breath, making up your mind that tonight’s the night. Your stomach sinks at the thought of how he might feel when he sees your body but at least you’ll know now before you fall for him any harder.
“Mmhmm” you nod, nuzzling your cheek against his chest one last time before sitting up. 
Jeongin hops up and gets to work clearing the snacks from the coffee table. With full hands, he leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. “You can go ahead. I’ll meet you in there in a second, okay?” 
You agree and gather the blanket in your arms, trembling as you shuffle down the hall towards the bedroom. It’s a short walk but it feels eternal. You’ve stepped through this threshold a dozen times by now but somehow this feels like your first. Suddenly the oversized hoodie and baggy sweatpants that once shielded your insecurities have you sweating like a sinner in church. It’s suffocating.
Tossing the blanket onto the bed, you tug your hoodie off to feel the fresh air kiss your skin. The coolness eases the tension in your body, leaving your hands a bit less shaky as you slip your sweatpants down and kick them aside. You stare down at your body, taking in the sight of your bare legs and your fluffy thighs that are just barely visible in the long t-shirt you’re wearing.
Your chest tightens as you pinch the bottom of your shirt, lifting the fabric little by little. It slides above your thighs, around the contours of your hips, revealing the panties you chose specifically for tonight. They’re silk, rose pink, with a lace trim and a delicate bow in the back and they’re the prettiest panties Jeongin’s ever seen simply because you’re wearing them. 
“Did I, uh, miss something?” Jeongin asks, frozen in the doorway.
Usually when he walks into the room you’re already under the covers waiting for cuddles he’s beyond eager to give you. Being met with this is something new entirely and he can’t help the way his heart races at the sight of it. You turn to find him staring at you wide eyed, shock painting his face. 
“Well, uh, I…” you stutter, fidgeting with the trim of your shirt, “I know you don’t really like sleeping with your clothes on and the weather’s really nice tonight so I thought, maybe, it’d be nice if we did that.” 
Jeongin closes the distance between you, his shock melting into concern. He brings an arm around your waist, stroking your side as he studies your expression.
“Baby, I already told you I’m cool with our clothes being on. I never want you to do anything you don’t want to.”
You rest your hand on his, soaking in the warmth of his touch. “It’s okay” you insist, immediately picking up on his skepticism. He doesn’t believe you for a second. You stare into his eyes, finding comfort in them even as they narrow in your direction. “I want you to see me, all of me, I don’t wanna be afraid anymore.”
“Afraid? Afraid of what? Did I…”
You cut him off before he can finish, refusing to let him believe for a second that there’s anything he did wrong. “No, Innie, you’re so good to me. It's just…I’m not the smallest girl. Feeling me is one thing but seeing me it’s…it’s…”
Your breath hitches at the sensation of Jeongin’s hands massaging your body. He smooths the plushness of your figure beneath his palms, stopping to squeeze your love handles, your belly, your thighs.
“Seeing you would be a gift” he whispers, his lips hovering near yours. “I’ve felt your body in the dark and I’m already addicted to how beautiful it is. If you take your clothes off or not, nothing will change. I promise.”
There’s no denying the rush that you get from being touched by him. You feel it every time, the impulse to let him tear your clothes off. The longing to feel his gaze dance over your naked body the way his hands do. Typically you fight it, your fears dulling your urges, but tonight you don’t. Instead you sweep him into a kiss laced with passion, guiding his hands to grip the fabric of your shirt. 
“Help me take it off, please” you beg, too cute to deny.
Jeongin nibbles at your bottom lip, “Only if you help me too.”
“Deal” you giggle as he steals your breath away, hungrily pulling you back into the kiss.
Your clothes are shed gently and slowly like the petals of a flower. One after the other, his and then yours. All the while Jeongin’s lips are drawn to yours like magnets. Every break he has to take is a small form of torture. You could kiss him every second of every day and it wouldn’t be enough. He needs to drown in it.
He can only bring himself to stop when he feels skin to skin contact. Your naked body’s pressed to his in the bright lighting of his room. He could see you if he wanted to, glance down and delight in the pleasure of something he’s only experienced in his imagination, but instead he focuses on your gorgeous face, his heart set on making sure this is what you really want.
“Can I look?” he asks, fingertips lightly trailing up and down your spine. 
You pause, pacing yourself for a decision you know you can’t turn back from, “It’s okay. You can look.” 
Time seems to stand still as Jeongin takes a step back and his gaze falls below your shoulders where your naked body awaits in all its vulnerability. His is the smooth, toned body that you already know it to be. You’ve caught glimpses of it here and there when he’s changed in front of you. And yours is beyond what he’d imagined during those long nights spent blindly exploring your form beneath the sheets.
At first he says nothing, does nothing. He only stares straight ahead, scanning you from head to toe. But just as the nervousness threatens to return he cracks a smile, his face lighting up, stars twinkling in his eyes.
“You’re beautiful.” He exhales the words as naturally as he breathes. 
You blush, a giggle escaping your lips, “Oh my gosh, stop it.”
“Stop it? How can I? Look at you.” 
Your self doubt wants to tell you that he’s lying—that these words you never imagined you’d hear couldn’t possibly be true—but you can’t deny the way Jeongin’s looking at you or the butterflies swarming your stomach. You try to bring your arms around yourself, a thoughtless attempt at hiding away again, but he grabs your hands, lacing his fingers between yours. 
“I mean it” he whispers, thumbs lightly grazing your skin, “Your body’s gorgeous and I feel lucky that you let me lay eyes on it. Thank you.” 
Your cheeks heat up and you dip your head down, too flustered by his words to maintain eye contact. Jeongin cups your cheek, tilting your head back up. He’s stubborn as always, refusing to let you escape his affection. 
“You think so too, don't you?” he asks, his lips floating back to yours. He almost kisses you, just almost, but lets his lips dance there, teasing you with their warmth. 
“Think what? I don’t…” you begin to speak but the feeling of his hands making contact with your belly steals away what was coming next. You let out the softest breath, bordering on a hushed moan. His touch always sets your soul on fire but this time there’s something different about it. Some new aspect of it that has your head all fuzzy and your knees going weak. 
“Think that I should feel lucky that I get to see you” he says, massaging the plush of your belly, “And grateful that I get to touch you.” 
He glides his palms down to your hips, taking indulgent handfuls of your curves as your body gives into his touch. Your fingertips run up his arm, feeling the ridges of his muscles as they flex with every breath. His body shivers, your quiet praise doing to him exactly what his does to you.
“You can’t say things like that, Innie.” 
“Why can’t I?”
“Because I might start believing it.”
Jeongin flashes you that dimpled smile, “Good. I want you to.” 
His lips collide with yours again and it feels like the whole room’s spinning because it is. He closes his arms around your waist, kissing you lovingly as he twirls you towards the bed. Before you know it your head’s resting on a pillow as your body sinks into the softness of the mattress. You can’t tell if it’s the mattress or the euphoria of Jeongin’s tongue tangled with yours but it’s like you’re floating on a cloud.
Jeongin kisses you like it’s the last time your lips will ever meet. His hands explore your body like they’re terrified to forget even the tiniest detail of what you feel like. The affection he pours into you is overwhelming yet you wouldn’t dare ask him to stop.
He saw you, everything about you, and the only place he ran to was your arms. You feel special, cherished in every way for exactly who you are. All your worries seem like nothing more than silly little things in the presence of his adoration. 
Finally breaking from the kiss, the necessity for air forcing your lips apart, Jeongin curls up beside you, keeping you in his arms as he slips a blanket over your naked bodies. You rest your head on his chest the same way you did on the couch, only now your mind isn’t wandering off somewhere far away. It’s right here with him, basking in the moment. 
“Promise not to hide from me anymore” he sighs, planting the sweetest kiss on your forehead. 
You relax into his arms, smiling as your heavy lids fall shut, “I promise.” 
You thought you’d feel more vulnerable lying beside him with your clothes in a pile on the floor but being like this with him is the safest you’ve ever felt, the most comfortable you’ve ever felt, in your own skin. Hide from him? And miss out on a feeling like this? Never again.
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verycoolusername1 · 3 days ago
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Maybe It Was Fate
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Summary: During the 'hughesbowl' as fans may call it, you are caught in a trance that is Quinn Hughes... unaware that he is your coworkers' oldest brother.
Quinn Hughes x photographer!reader
A/N: I was debating whether to make this nico or quinn as the love interest and Quinn won in the end(nico does have a cameo however)- This was also supposed to be posted the day of the hughesbowl, but stuff came up so here it is now!!
AND I'M CHANGING THE SCORE IN THIS BECAUSE WHATEVER HAPPENED ON OCTOBER 30TH, 2024 DID NOT HAPPEN WHATSOEVER
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It's a shock to you that you work with professional athletes, considering you hated sports as a kid. Even now, you still don't know what's going on in hockey. With the players too fast around you, it's hard to keep your eye on one player.
It was the 3rd period, the score being 5-3, the Canucks slowly but surely catching up.
You held your camera in hand, watching the big screen to keep focus... that was until someone catched your eye. You couldn't see his last name, only his face and man was he pretty.
He had green eyes flickered like sunlight within the leaves as he looked up. You could run your hand through his brown locks for days if given the chance.
You shook your head, he was most likely a player on and off the ice. You knew that without a doubt, knowing all about Jack's relationship with women(due to being best friends) but you couldn't help but wonder, would it be different with him?
The fans becoming louder as the game came to a close, the devils capturing the win. You snapped your camera a couple of times towards the devils and secretly took more of the mystery man.
You turned your camera off and it held loosely around your neck as you waited outside the locker room, waiting for Jack to take you home.
You had your back towards the door as you flickered through the photos that you took, your cheeks heating up when you saw the man again. He has a 43 just like Luke but you didn't think anything of it, players share the same numbers all the time. It was just a mere coincidence, right?
"You got all my good sides right?" Jack asked, you quickly turned the camera off.
"Jesus Jack, warn me next time gosh." You hit him on the shoulder.
He only shrugged in response. "Can't really text in the locker room."
You rolled your eyes. "You're actually an idiot."
"Only act like it to make you look smart." He muttered under his breath.
"And what are you two arguing about now?" Luke approached the two of you.
"They called me an idiot!" Jack exclaimed.
"They must have been reasonable to do so." Nico chuckled as he walked past you three. "Don't kill eachother please!"
"Make no promises cap!" You snapped a photo as he looked back at you with a smile.
"Oh Y/N! We want you to meet someone." Luke began to drag your arm in the other direction.
"And before you groan out a half assed reply, I think you'll really like him." Jack added.
You were now beginning to regret telling Jack that you wished you could put yourself out there again considering you haven't been on a date in two months due to your conflicting schedule.
"Do you two know him or-" You looked between the two of them.
"Oh yeah we do." Jack answered. "Very well."
"What does that even mean?" You narrowed your eyes at him, Jack chuckles in reply.
"Trust me, you'll like him." Luke eased your worries.
You finally stopped and Luke dropped your hand as you realized.
"He plays for the canucks? They just lost tonight. I'm sure the last thing he would want to do is go on a date with someone that works for the devils." You explained.
"Well he likes us and we play for the devils sooooooooo you'll brighten up his mood. Ha get it cause you're a photographer and the camera flashes." Jack stopped explaining the joke when he was met with your stern face.
Luke cleared his throat. "There he is now."
You snapped your eyes to the door and realized that was the man that took your breath away moments before just as he is doing now.
"Y/N this is Quinn, our brother. Quinn this is Y/N, the person we've been telling you about." Jack introduced the two of you.
"Brother? He's your brother?!? You guys never told me you had a brother!" You made a mental note to swear at Jack later, with no audience.
"Oops?" Luke giggled. "See Quinn, look they're a photographer. Show them some photos you took tonight." He encouraged.
You quickly shook your head. "No I couldn't possibly do that, I-I mean I still have to edit them and wait..." You looked down to your neck strap and saw that your camera was gone and in Jack's hands.
All three hughes brothers looking at the photos.
"Wait no!" You exclaimed but it was already too late you assumed, Jack was looking at you with a knowing look while Luke and Quinn were shocked.
"How come he gets all his good angles and I don't even one photo?" Luke asked you, in a mocking tone.
"I was distracted," You looked away, embarrassed.
"Yeah because you were too busy looking at our brother." Jack remarked, jokingly.
You rolled your eyes. "I didn't know he was your guys brother."
"I think these look nice, thank you." Quinn finally spoke, looking you in the eyes.
"Oh um you welcome. It's nothing really, it's just kind of my job." You shrugged.
"Then you most definitely picked the right career choice." He smiled softly at you.
Jack and Luke were nowhere to be seen, seemly left the two of you alone for a while.
Your face flushed at his words, he held the camera in his hands handing it out for you.
"You're gonna need this to edit all those photos of me." He joked.
"And I'm gonna need your number to send you all those photos." You held the camera and its neck strap, putting it in your bag.
"Well that was bold, Y/N." He chuckled not nonetheless gave you his phone so you can type out your number, he sent you a quick text.
"It was nice meeting you Quinn, it's getting late. I would head home but Jack seemed to have disappeared." You looked around.
"I can take you home." He offered. "He obviously went to the bar with the team."
You looked up at him and smiled. "I would like that."
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alotofpockets · 2 days ago
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If the whole world was watching | Ona Batlle x Singer!Reader
Where you aren't out to the world, but a video of you and Ona starts circling social media
Woso masterlist | Words: 1.7k
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When you were planning your tour, you had sat down with your girlfriend to make a schedule of important dates for her football wise. While you knew you couldn’t go on tour and be there for all of them, you wanted to make sure you weren’t missing the important things. 
That planning was the reason that you were able to celebrate her birthday with her. Her teammates had planned a surprise party, and you were of course invited. You had been dating a little over a year, and her teammates had become close friends of yours in the duration of those months, so you were extremely happy that you got to be celebrating Ona’s birthday with her and the people she loved.
When you met Ona, you had let her know right away that you weren’t out to the public, that only friends and family were aware of your sexuality. She let you know that she didn’t mind, and that she valued her privacy, so not showing your relationship to the world worked for the both of you.
The celebrations were held in a secluded part of a bar, drinks were handed around, and music played loud. These girls knew how to celebrate big, so it was to no surprise that this was what they had planned.
You were having the time of your life without a care in the world, just enjoying a bit of time off. Them from football, and you from touring. With them around it felt like you were in a safe space, like you were in your own little world. 
While you were talking with Alexia, Ona came walking towards you, and your eyes immediately filled with love. “Sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if you wanted to dance.” Her voice and expression are hopeful. You look over to Alexia to see if she minded, “Go. Have fun, love birds.” 
Ona reached out her hand and helped you up, guiding you to the middle of the rented part of the bar where the girls had made some space to dance earlier. She pulled you closer and placed her hands on your hips, swaying to the music together. Your arms snake around her neck, your faces inches away from each other. Occasionally leaning in to say something in the other’s ear. 
You loved being able to be so carefree. Surrounded by people you both loved, without having to think of who was watching. Paparazzi weren't able to enter the bar, so you got to spend an evening without having to keep your eyes out for cameras.  
Well that is what you had thought at least. What you hadn’t realised was that while you had rented a secluded part of the bar, that other people in the bar still were able to look into certain parts of the secluded area.
Waking up to your phone ringing the next morning was definitely not how you had planned to start the day, but when you saw your manager’s name on your screen you sat up to answer. You rubbed your eyes before picking up the phone. “Why are you calling me this early?” Your voice is still groggy from barely being awake yet.
“I take it you haven’t been on your socials then?” You furrow your brow, “No, I was out last night with Ona’s teammates, and I just woke up from your call. Why? What’s going on?” Ona stirred awake next to you. “Sorry baby, go back to sleep.” You say quickly before slipping out of the bed.
“Yeah go on, sorry I didn't want her to wake up.” You let your manager know once you’ve closed your bedroom door behind you. “You’re good. Now what I wanted to talk to you about is a video that is going around on social media. I think it is best if you watch it first, and maybe talk with Ona about it. I will send it to you, and you can call me back later.” 
To say you were confused was an understatement, so you did what she told you. You hung up the phone and waited for her to send the video your way. The thumbnail of the video gave it away instantly, you pressed play anyways.
A grainy but unmistakable video of you and Ona dancing together, arms wrapped around each other, happy faces mere inches apart. It showed you leaning in to say something in her ear and Ona’s face lighting up after you spoke. 
You watched the video with a swirl of emotions. Surprise, nerves, anger, and worry. Both of you had been so careful to keep your relationship private. Knowing how much privacy meant to Ona, you were afraid of how she would feel about this now being on the internet for everyone to see.
The sound of footsteps heading your way pulled you from your thoughts. “What’s going on?” She said, her voice still thick with sleep. Ona sat down beside you on the couch and cuddled up into your side for some warmth. You hesitated for a moment, before you showed her the video.
Her eyes went wide as she watched the moment the two of you thought you had shared in private. You were nervous for her reaction, knowing that this wasn’t what she had wanted when she let you know how important privacy was to her. 
When the video ended Ona let out a small sigh, “Well, I guess that is one way for us to go public.” It didn’t click for you that she wasn’t saying it in a disappointed way, so you opted for apologising. “I’m so sorry, Ona, I did not mean for this to happen.”
Ona quickly sat up and took your hands in hers, “It’s okay, you didn’t do anything wrong. We knew it was bound to happen at some point, and I don’t mind people knowing. People knowing doesn’t mean we have to lose our privacy.” You nodded along, happy to hear that Ona was okay. “But what about you, Amor? How are you feeling about this?” You hadn’t really thought about your feelings on this, instantly focussing on Ona’s feelings and the fact that they invaded your privacy. 
The thought of what it meant for you made you freeze. You always valued privacy as well, and part of not coming out to the public was because you didn’t want people to focus on that, or spread rumours whenever you were even just talking to a girl, which you had seen happen to quite a few of your friends in the industry.
“I don’t know.” You settled is what you settled on with a sigh. “Is it okay if I take some time to decide how I feel about it?” Ona cuddled back into your side. “Yeah, take as much time as you need. Whatever you decide, talking about it or not, I am good with it. We know what’s important, and no matter what, we have each other.”
You texted your manager that you would call her back later, that you needed to wrap your mind around everything and let it settle for a bit. She told you to take your time, just like Ona had done, and to let her know whenever you were ready. 
Since you were both awake way earlier than you were planning to be, you spend the morning cuddling up on the couch. You stayed quiet and seemed to be lost in your thoughts for most of it, and Ona hated that she had to leave for training, but you had told her you would be fine. She had hesitated before closing the door behind her, knowing that maybe some time on your own was what you needed to understand your feelings.
At training Ona had told her teammates about what happened, though a few of them had already seen the videos come by. They listened to all her worries, and tried being there for her as best as they could.
The next few days you had tried to ignore the topic at every given moment, which without your knowledge was making Ona quite anxious. You were continuing your tour again, flying out that morning. 
Before you got on the plane, you called your manager with how you wanted to handle the situation. She loved your idea and gave you the go-ahead, which you knew she would. She had been with you for years, and you had always been on the same line and had become good friends.
Ona’s teammates had noticed that she had been nervous, and that the reason was most likely the videos circling on the internet. So, they had decided to all hang out at Ona’s place the first night you were away again. 
Patri was scrolling on her phone when all of a sudden she gasped. Everyone turned to her with questioning looks on their faces. “So a stream of y/n’s show just showed up on tiktok, and Ona, I think you’d like to see this.” 
She handed her phone over to Ona, who watched the screen in disbelief. There you were on stage singing your heart out in a Barcelona jersey. The streamer stood close enough to the stage to where Ona realised it wasn’t just any bought jersey, it was a match worn one. Which meant that you had taken one from her closet. Her assumption was confirmed when you twirled around and ‘O. Batlle’ was written on the back of the jersey.
She watched with a proud smile. Knowing that without speaking on the videos it was a way of confirming the rumours that it had started, which meant that in a way that was you coming out to the public. Ona couldn’t believe that you had gotten up on stage in her jersey.
It was the talk of the rest of the evening. The mood was a lot lighter knowing that you were okay, and that the videos online wouldn’t get in the way of anything.
The moment you got off stage and had your phone again, you sent Ona a message. You couldn’t stop smiling thinking of what you had just done and couldn’t wait to share it with her.
Y/n: I should've said something before I wore this on stage, but baby, if the whole world was watching I'd still dance with you x
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Ona: This was perfect. I'm so proud of you 💙❤️ -----
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moosesarecute · 3 days ago
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Day 3: Belonging
@azrielappreciationweek
Masterlist
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Azriel loved his family.
He loved his mother, but rarely saw her. He refused to bring her any danger when he knew she couldn’t protect herself.
He loved his brothers. Even though he has had different arguments with both of them lately, he loved them.
He loved Amren, Mor, Feyre, Elain and Nesta.
His entire family gave him joy.
But he was missing someone. Someone that was just his. His mother had never been able to raise him. Rhys and Cass were friends before he came along. Rhys’ mother was exactly that, Rhys’. Mor chose Cass and all the Archeron sisters had mates that wasn’t him.
He was always the second choice.
He knew they loved him back and did their best to include him, but they would never prioritize him over their mates. And he understood that, but it wasn’t enough.
He needed to be the first choice.
That’s why he loved you more than anything and also why he chose to keep you a secret.
He knew his family would never take you away from him, but he hated the thought of even sharing the amazing relationship the two of you had with others.
You had now been dating for two years. And it was the two most amazing years of his life.
If he had a bad day, you were there to hold him. If he had a good day, you were there to be happy with him. And if he had a normal day, you were there to make it perfect.
He had lost count of the days he had come home to a freshly cooked dinner and your smiling face.
You loved to cook in your free time and even though Azriel often urged you to let him help you in the kitchen, the answer was always the same: “I love to cook, Az. It’s my way of unwinding.”
So he let you have the cooking and he did the dishes. It worked for the two of you.
“Are you even listening?” Rhysand asked him.
Mission, Illyria, two weeks, female training
Thank the mother for his shadows.
“You want me to spend two weeks in Illyria making sure the females are training,” he answered with a neutral tone. “I listen, but isn’t this more of Cassian’s expertise?”
He did not want to leave you for two weeks. In only one week was your two years anniversary and he had planned something special.
“Cassian is going on the same mission, but he’s taking half the camps and you’re taking the other half,” Rhys explained. “Spending a month every time we have to make sure the females are training isn’t going to work, so we are trying this solution.”
He only nodded.
Even though he hated to miss your anniversary, he just couldn’t let Rhys know about you just yet.
“Thank you, Az,” Rhys answered. “Can you start tomorrow?”
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It had been two weeks without Azriel. A week since your anniversary. And even though you knew why he wanted to keep you a secret, you still hated the fact that you were alone on your anniversary.
So to say you were excited for him to return was an understatement.
You were almost blooming in happiness. You had made his favorite dinner and dessert and made sure the food was ready for nine o’clock. He said he would be back at nine o’clock.
But then it turned nine fifteen and then half past nine and then ten and then eleven.
You knew Azriel well enough to know that he would have let you know if he knew he would be late.
But you had gotten no message.
So you started pacing.
And cleaning.
You ate without him. You read your book. You knitted. And you took a bath.
And finally, at three o’clock in the morning, you heard the door to your house close.
You basically ran towards the front door and were immediately met by a wall of shadows.
They embraced you, looked over your entire body for injuries and pulled you towards their master.
“Az?” You asked carefully.
“I’m sorry for coming home so late,” he answered with a tired voice.
The shadows had now pulled you so that you stood only half a meter away from Azriel.
His leathers were ripped and his head was heavy.
“What happened?” You asked him with a gasp.
Before he could answer you had already slipped on your shoes and started dragging him out the door.
“Y/N,” he said and tried to hold you back. “I’m fine.”
You stopped in your tracks.
“Az,” you started with a sigh. “Love, you can’t even stop me, a female half your size, from dragging you to the clinic. I think we both know you’re not fine.”
He let you win the argument and went along to the clinic. He walked worriedly slow and every now and then he let out a painful whimper. He even had difficulties holding his wings up from the ground.
You had just gotten to the clinic and sat down in the examination room, when you felt his hand go limp and looked up to see his eyes closed.
“Az?” You asked and shook him carefully. He gave no reaction.
You didn’t even think before you ran out of the room and found the closest healer.
Three healers rushed into his room and started working. They healed many small wounds and a bigger one on his back, before they bandaged some of the deeper ones.
You couldn’t look away from his face. He looked so peaceful, it felt so wrong knowing he was harmed.
“He’ll be okay,” one of the healers said to you. “You’re Y/N, right?”
You looked up at the healer from the chair you sat in. She knew about you? You didn’t think Azriel had told anyone about you.
“He usually asks for you right after waking up,” she told you as an answer to your confusion. “I’ll have to contact the High Lord. He’ll want to know his shadowsinger is safe.”
You nodded at the healer and spent as long time as possible beside Azriel, holding his hand and cuddling his hair, before you went back home, alone.
If he needed you to be a secret, you would be.
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Azriel woke with a deep breath.
“Y/N?” He asked aloud with a groggy voice.
“Az?”
He couldn’t hold back the disappointment in hearing his brother’s voice and not yours.
He opened his eyes and was met with both of his brothers nervous stares.
Rhys handed him a glas of water and Cassian helped him sit up, even though he didn’t need help.
“You scared us there, Az,” Rhys said. “You had poison in your blood.”
Even though he heard Rhys’ words, he simply couldn’t understand what he was talking about.
The only thing he remembered was shadow walking home to you. He remembered making sure you were okay and that you dragged him to the clinic without even a hug or kiss.
But where were you now?
Y/N?
Home, safe, worried
His shadows saved him from going mad from worry.
“Az?” Cassian’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. He looked over to his brother. “Who’s Y/N?”
Azriel struggled to not show his surprise and confusion. How did he know about you?
“You’ve been muttering that name in your sleep,” Rhys explained and Azriel understood that they already knew who you are. “We’re sorry if you haven’t felt like you could tell us.”
“Yeah,” Cassian agreed. “We haven’t been prioritizing you and we’ve hated ourselves for it. Hope you can forgive us and let us have a new chance.”
Azriel didn’t know how to respond. He felt seen and understood. It felt nice. He felt ready even though he dreaded having to explain his feelings.
“Y/N is my girlfriend,” he started to explain. “We’ve been together for two years now and I didn’t want anyone to know because-“
“We understand Az,” Rhys interrupted him. “You wanted her for yourself. You don’t need to explain unless you want to.”
Relief grew from his body.
But he knew he wouldn’t feel okay until you were in his arms.
“Can one of you maybe get Y/N and bringer her here?” He asked carefully.
“Where is she?” Cassian asked as he jumped up from his chair and got ready to leave.
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You woke from a knock at your door. It had been a long and anxious night not knowing how Azriel’s doing and you hadn’t realized you fell asleep.
Another knock made you sit up in the couch.
You knew it wasn’t Azriel, he had stopped knocking ages ago.
But you had a good feeling and went to open the door anyway.
“Hello,” a large illyrian male you realized had to be Cassian said.
“Hello?” You answered confused.
“There’s an awake shadowsinger that really wants you to come visit him.”
You had to hold back a squeal when you realized Azriel had told his family about you. And you immediately got ready to go to the clinic.
Cassian walked in front of you into the room and then pulled the High Lord out so that you and Azriel could be alone. It was absurd.
“Hi,” Azriel said.
His voice made you melt a little and you rushed towards him to give him a hug and kisses.
“Don’t ever do that again,” you said as you kissed his entire face. “You scared me.”
“I’m sorry,” Azriel answered and moved to embrace you as well. “You know I’ll always come home to you, right?”
You nodded into his chest.
“I don’t like being away from you,” you whispered. “I think we belong together.”
Shadow started playing with your hair as Azriel became more and more relaxed.
“I know we do.”
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Dividers by @cafekitsune
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silent-stories · 2 days ago
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𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗
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Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader
Summary: When Noah was left alone to take care of his daughter about two years ago, he never thought he would find someone else he would trust enough to include in his little family. But things can change.
Tw: little bit of angst (fluff is always there, I don't even write it in the tw anymore)
Series masterlist
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3 years earlier
Your apartment felt suffocating. You stood by the kitchen counter, staring at the sink, trying to breathe through the frustration that had been building for probably months. Jason was pacing in the living room, the sound of his feet on the hardwood floor sharp against the silence.
"Why is this always so difficult with you?" His voice was rising, the anger behind it unmistakable. "I try to talk to you, to explain how I feel, but it’s like I’m speaking to a wall. You don’t listen."
You turned, your patience wearing thin. "I am listening, Jason. But you can’t just lash out every time things don’t go your way. It doesn’t work like that."
Jason’s face twisted in disbelief. "You think I’m the one causing problems? You think I’m just making this up?" He threw his hands up, exasperated. "You don’t even seem to care when something’s wrong. You shut down every time I try to talk to you about it!"
You let out a slow breath, trying to hold on to the last shreds of calm you had left. "That’s not true. I care. But you’re trying to control everything. You are trying to control me, and it’s exhausting. Every time we have a disagreement, you make it feel like it’s my fault, like I’m the one who’s doing everything wrong."
Jason scoffed, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Oh, so now I’m controlling? That’s rich. I try to make things work, I try to talk to you, but all you do is shut me out."
"Don’t act like this is just about us not communicating," you snapped, your voice shaking with frustration. "It’s not just one thing, Jason. It’s everything. The way you treat me like I’m supposed to be available on your terms, the way you talk down to me like I’m incapable of making my own decisions. You’re always making everything about you and your needs, but you never ask how I feel about anything."
Jason’s eyes darkened, but you saw something else there too—fear. Maybe he wasn’t ready to face what he was losing, but you had already made up your mind. "You’re overreacting," he muttered, taking a step toward you, but you didn’t back away.
"No, Jason. I’m done," you said, your voice more firm than you felt. "This isn’t working anymore. I can’t keep doing this. I don’t want to keep doing this."
Jason froze, his brow furrowed. "What are you talking about? You don’t mean that. I love you. I need you."
Your chest tightened at the words,. "We shouldn't feel the love so painfully. I shouldn’t. You don’t love me, Jason. This isn’t love," you said. "Love isn’t trying to control someone, love isn’t belittling them every chance you get, love isn’t making them feel small. You don’t get to hide behind 'I love you' and make it okay."
His face twisted in disbelief, like he was trying to comprehend what you were saying. "You’re throwing all of that away? After everything?"
You shook your head slowly, the tears you’d been holding back threatening to break free. But you didn’t let them. Not now. "I’m choosing myself, Jason. I can’t keep letting you walk all over me and thinking it’s okay. I’m done with this and I am truly sorry things didn't go in a different way, trust me."
For a moment, he just stood there, staring at you like he couldn’t believe what was happening. His eyes flicked to the door and back to you, his lips parted like he was about to say something, but the words didn’t come.
"Just go," you said, your voice barely a whisper but stronger than it had been in weeks. "Please. I need you to leave."
Jason hesitated, his fists clenched at his sides. "You’re making a huge mistake," he muttered, his voice low and strained. "You can’t just throw this all away. You’ll regret it."
You shook your head. "No. I won’t. I’m not doing this anymore."
He stood there for a long moment, and then, with a final glance at you, he turned toward the door. It clicked open, and then shut.
The sound echoed in the silence of your apartment, and for a moment, you just stood there, your back pressed against the door, your breath coming in shallow gasps. You told yourself you had made the right decision, that you had done what was best for you. And yet, as the seconds ticked by, something inside you twisted.
The tears came in slow waves at first, and then, like a dam breaking, they poured out. You didn’t try to stop them. You didn’t even know how to. You sank to the floor, knees pulled to your chest, burying your face in your arms as the sobs wracked your body.
You had told him to leave. You had closed the door on him. You had made the decision to walk away from a relationship that has never been healthy.
And still, your heart ached like it had been ripped out of your chest. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself that you were done, that you were stronger than this, your heart betrayed you. You had loved him. You loved him.
And as much as you tried to convince yourself that the way he treated you—his lack of respect, his jealousy, his need to control everything—had been enough to make you forget the love you once shared, your heart couldn’t let go.
You loved him. Even if you didn't want to.
One week after he stepped out of your house, you got the news that he left the city to open his shop somewhere else. And you haven't heard from him since.
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Now
You were still staring out the window, frozen, as the realization hit you like a punch to the gut.
Jason’s Ink Studio.
The name was loud and clear in your mind, a flashback to everything you had worked so hard to leave behind. You hadn’t expected this, not today, not now. You never thought he could get back in town, and yet, here he was.
Your gaze fixed on him before your mind could even catch up with the shock in your chest. He was standing on the other side of the road, talking to someone, his face in profile as he lifted a package—large, wrapped in brown paper.
His hair, lighter now than it had been back then, was short but messy, like he’d run his fingers through the light brown locks and forgotten to smooth it down. The buzz cut he once wore was gone, replaced with something more grown-up, but still familiar.
He was wearing a simple black sweater with the sleeves rolled up, revealing the tattoos that snake around his forearms, ink you remember well. His skin is still a bit tanned, like it always was.
His eyes, those blue-grey eyes that had always caught the light in that almost magnetic way, were hidden from now, but you knew they were shining under the morning light.
You didn’t want to look, but you couldn’t help it. As he turned, walking toward the door, his eyes flicked up, right toward the window where you were standing. For a split second, you could have sworn his gaze landed on you.
Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t move.
You weren’t sure if he’d actually seen you, or if you were just imagining it. But in that moment, everything around you seemed to stop. You held your breath. You didn’t want to react. You didn’t want to acknowledge him, not in this place, not now. You were happy with Noah. You didn't want to see him everyday in front of your workplace.
For a moment you both stood there, and then, just like that, he disappeared through the door of his own shop.
You exhaled slowly, the air feeling thick in your lungs. Your palms were suddenly clammy, and you found yourself gripping the counter for stability. He was here. Of course he was. Back there like nothing had changed. But so much had changed. You had changed.
You stared at the door he had just walked through, a sense of unease twisting in your stomach, still trying to wrap your head around the sight of Jason standing outside. It had been years, but seeing him again—especially in front of your café—stirred up a mess of old memories. Why the hell was he back?
Noah’s voice suddenly cut through your thoughts. “Hey, you okay?”
You blinked, snapping back to reality. "Yeah. I'm fine," you muttered, brushing off the question. But before you could add anything else, Grace, leaning over the counter, caught sight of what was going on on the other side of the window.
"Oh well—look who’s back."
You stiffened. Noah looked over, clearly confused. “Who?”
You let out a sharp exhale. “You remember when I told you about my ex?”
Noah raised an eyebrow. "The tattoo artist who treated you like shit and left the town to chase a bigger paycheck?"
“Yeah.”
Grace, without missing a beat, pointed at the window. “Him. Right there.”
Noah turned, following her finger, and the look on his face shifted. His eyes narrowed, “Of course he’s back.” He muttered.
You felt your stomach tighten. “I don't know why he's here. But I don't fucking want him here. Not in front of my café."
Grace, clearly enjoying the situation a bit too much, leaned in with a smirk. “I wonder if he already knows about your ‘charming’ new... rockstar boyfriend with pink nailpolish here?”
Noah shifted on his feet, his expression tightening ever so slightly. "What does that have to do with anything?"
Grace shrugged, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, nothing. Just wondering if the guy’s gonna get jealous seeing you’ve moved on... to someone else.”
You felt the heat rise to your face, and before you could respond, Noah cleared his throat. His voice, though calm, had an edge to it. “Yeah, well, that’s none of his business.”
The casualness of his tone didn’t escape you, but there was something else—something in the way he said it that made you wonder if he was a little too quick to defend you. Or maybe he was just annoyed by the whole situation, too.
Grace watched the two of you, clearly entertained. "Oh, I get it now. High-school reunion vibes, huh? A bit embarassing and awkward?"
You shot her a glare. "Don’t even joke about that."
Noah’s posture had shifted. He was still looking at the window, but the way he stood now had more tension in it. “If he thinks he can just show up and start making trouble, I’ll deal with it,” he said, the words sounding like more of a promise than a suggestion.
You blinked at him, taken aback by the sudden protective tone in his voice. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate it—but why was he getting so worked up?
“I don’t need you to deal with it,” you said quickly. “I can handle it myself, don't worry.”
Grace leaned in, eyes dancing with mischief. “Oh, I’m sure you can. But... still, if he tries anything, I’m pretty sure he’ll wish he hadn’t.” She finished the sentence looking at Noah.
You crossed your arms, trying to ignore the tension building between you and Noah. You could feel his eyes on you, but you weren’t sure if it was out of concern or something else entirely. Was he already jealous? Without even seeing Jason yet?
“He’s not gonna try anything,” you said, trying to reassure both you and Noah. “I’m done with him. For good. It's almost been four fucking years. I moved on. He probably did that too. Maybe he moved back with... I don't know, his wife? Who knows.”
Noah just nodded, staying silent. You knew his mind was full of thoughts but that wasn't the right moment to talk about them.
You stared at the window again, watching your ex as he spoke to someone outside, completely unaware of the tension building inside the café. The knot in your stomach only tightened.
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You kept working after Noah left to work on something with the band.
The café was busy and you used that as a distraction from the knot of anxiety in your stomach. You couldn’t shake the image of Jason standing outside.
You busied yourself behind the counter as you made drinks and refilled pastries, trying not to look up at the window every few minutes. But every time the door opened, your heart jumped, and you couldn’t help but glance over.
A couple walked in, laughing together. The man’s grin reminded you too much of Jason’s—slightly crooked, genuine, and a little too familiar. For a split second, your heart skipped, and you felt the familiar ache in your chest. But as they made their way to the counter, you saw it wasn’t him. You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.
"Can I help you?" you asked, your voice a little shaky as you forced a smile.
The man ordered a cappuccino, and you moved through the motions, trying to push the thought of Jason from your mind. But every time the door opened, you couldn’t stop your heart from skipping. You looked, always half-expecting him to walk through.
The bell above the door chimed again.
The man entering had brown short hair, his face half-obscured by the collar of his jacket, but for a moment, your mind screamed, It’s him.
You froze, watching as he approached the counter, but when he turned his face toward you, your stomach sank. It wasn’t Jason. Just another stranger.
You forced yourself to breathe, to smile. To get it together. You couldn’t keep reacting like this.
Minutes passed. Then another hour. The tension in your chest never quite eased, but you managed to focus on the customers, the tasks at hand, your routine.
Jason wasn’t coming in. He couldn’t be.
And as the day wore on, and the sun began to set, you didn’t see him again, not even outside the window.
You kept working, moving through the motions. But the truth was, the sense of unease wouldn’t leave. Every time you heard the door, part of you braced for the possibility that it was him. The man who had once been everything, but now felt like a stranger.
But he didn’t come. Not today.
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Noah was sprawled on the couch in the band's living room, casually scrolling through his phone while Ruffilo sat across from him. The quiet hum of the house felt comfortable, but Noah’s mind was clearly elsewhere.
Finally, after a few minutes of silence, Noah set his phone down with a frustrated sigh.
“What's wrong, man?” Nick asked casually.
Noah ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just... Y/N’s ex is back in town,” he said, his tone less than enthusiastic. “And he opened up a tattoo shop right across from her café.”
Nick’s eyebrows shot up. "Wait, that guy? The tattoo artist?"
“Yeah,” Noah confirmed, leaning back against the couch. “Jason. He’s been gone for a while, but now he’s back. And of course, right across from where Y/n works.”
Nick nodded thoughtfully. "That’s... uh, that's gotta be awkward."
Noah rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, it’s not great. And I can’t help but feel like something’s going to happen. It just doesn’t feel good."
Nick leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I get it, man. But, you don’t have to worry about that. Y/N’s with you now, and she’s moved on. She’s not gonna let some guy from her past mess things up.”
Noah hesitated. "I know. But... I don’t know, man. I can’t shake this feeling. Ever since I got involved with Y/N I’ve been scared of losing her. I’ve always been scared of it, after... well, after everything that happened with Hannah." He took a deep breath and looked at Nick, his expression more vulnerable than usual. “But now... with Jason back in the picture, I feel it more than ever. I don’t know what’s gonna happen, and it scares the shit out of me.”
Nick studied him for a moment, then leaned back into his seat, shaking his head slightly. "You’re doing it again," he said, his voice calm but firm. "You’re thinking about things that haven’t even happened yet. I get that you're worried, but listen, you don’t have to keep carrying that fear around."
"I know I sound like a broken record,” Noah said, rubbing his face with his hands. "I just... I love her, man. I don’t want anything to mess that up."
Nick’s tone softened. “I get it. I do. But you don’t have to be scared of losing her. You’ve got a solid thing going. Y/N chose you. And she’s with you now. Jason’s part of her past, and that’s where he’s gonna stay. She’s moved on."
Noah let out a long breath. "I know. But it’s still hard not to worry, you know?"
Nick gave him a small smile. "Yeah, I get it. But trust me, man. You’re enough. You don’t have to live in fear of something that might never even happen. You’re already doing everything right."
Noah nodded slowly. “Thanks, man. I needed that.” He stood up, stretching. “I should go pick up Luna. She’s probably starving by now.”
Nick chuckled, standing up with him. "Good idea. But hey, remember, if you need to talk, you know where I am."
Noah smiled. "Appreciate it."
With a final wave, Noah walked out the door.
Things would work out, he hoped. But he still couldn’t shake the weight of his own worries.
He didn't want to get hurt again.
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When Noah stepped into the daycare, his eyes quickly found Luna sitting at a small table in the corner, her little brow furrowed in concentration as she worked on something with a pile of crayons scattered in front of her. She caught sight of him immediately and waved enthusiastically.
"Daddy!" she squealed, bouncing out of her seat.
Noah grinned, walking over to scoop her up in his arms. "Hey, sweetheart," he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Ready to go home?"
Luna nodded excitedly, but before Noah could move, Ms. Harper, one of the teachers, approached with a warm smile.
"Noah, do you have a second?" she asked. "We had a little project today, and I wanted to show you something."
Noah glanced at Luna, who ran off to rejoin a friend in a nearby play area.
"Of course," he replied, following Ms. Harper to the small corner of the room as she handed Noah a folded piece of paper.
"We had the kids draw pictures of their families,” she explained as Noah opened the paper carefully. “Luna was really proud of hers, and we wanted to make sure you saw it."
The paper was an explosion of color, with vibrant swirls of pink, blue, yellow, and green. In the sky, there was not a sun (like it usually was in kids' drawings) but a moon.
The clouds were big and puffy and a small house stood in the middle of the page.
Noah’s heart warmed as he looked at the three main figures in the foreground. One was small, the other two larger. The shapes were simple—a circle for each head, a few lines for arms and legs, but they were immediately recognizable. A man, a woman, and a smaller figure.
"That’s us, isn’t it?" Noah asked, looking up from the drawing to meet Ms. Harper’s eyes. His voice was soft, filled with warmth.
The teacher smiled and nodded. "Yep, Luna said it was ‘Daddy and Y/N.’ She was so proud of it."
Noah’s heart swelled as he looked back down at the drawing. The way Luna included you made him smile. "I love it," he murmured.
As he admired the picture, his eyes wandered to the background. He noticed several small shapes scattered on the horizon, almost like trees but not quite. They looked out of place compared to the other elements in the drawing, and his curiosity piqued.
"What are those?" he asked, pointing at the figures.
Ms. Harper chuckled softly. “She said those are her uncles,” she explained.
Noah’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, a laugh escaping him. "Her uncles?"
"Yes," she replied, grinning. "She said they’re the uncles who love her."
Noah couldn’t help but laugh too, a warm, genuine smile spreading across his face. "Well, I'll tell them Luna included them in the family," he said, shaking his head with amusement. "This is perfect."
Luna, who had been playing with her friend, returned to him just as he was carefully folding the drawing.
"Dad" she asked eagerly, "did you see my picture? What do you think?"
Noah beamed down at her. "I love it, Luna. I think it’s the best drawing ever." He picked her up with one arm and kissed the top of her head. "You’ve made me so happy with this."
Luna’s face lit up, her grin stretching wide across her face. She hugged him tightly, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck. "I’m glad you like it!"
The teacher gave them one last smile before stepping away.
"Alright, Lu," Noah said, shifting Luna slightly in his arms, "let’s go home."
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The soft glow from the TV illuminated the dim room as you and Noah lay on his bed, wrapped up in the warmth of his blankets as Luna was already sleeping in her bedroom.
The gentle hum of some anime playing in the background was more of a comfort than entertainment at this point. You were curled up beside him, your head resting on his chest, the familiar weight of his arm draped over you. His hand idly brushed through your hair as you watched the fight happening on the screen, though you noticed he wasn’t quite as engaged as usual.
You shifted slightly, glancing up at him. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling, unfocused, almost as if his mind had wandered far away from the bright colors on the TV. You could feel the subtle tension in his muscles, the quiet distance that had come over him.
"Hey," you murmured, your voice soft but steady. "Mrs. Linn asked to come see her sometime, yesterday. We talked a bit when I was about to get into my car to go back home. I forgot to tell you. She seemed such a sweet lady." You smiled, hoping to bring his attention back to the moment, but his gaze didn’t move from the ceiling.
Noah’s lips tugged up slightly, but it was more of a reflex than a genuine response. "Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve seen her," he said absently. “Maybe we could all go sometime, say hi." His tone didn’t carry the usual warmth, though. His mind was still clearly elsewhere.
You frowned, now fully aware of the shift in his mood. You grabbed the remote and paused the anime, the room suddenly feeling quieter, even more intimate with the absence of noise.
"Is it about Jason?" you asked softly, almost afraid of what his reaction might be.
Noah didn’t look at you, but his head gave the smallest nod, confirming what you already suspected. His jaw tightened, and you could tell his thoughts were running in circles, probably replaying some old memories.
You let out a quiet sigh, lifting your hand to gently trace his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin. "You don’t have to worry, Noah," you said. "I love you. I love Luna. I love the life we’re building together. He’s a ghost from the past, and that’s all he’s ever going to be now." You pressed a soft kiss to his naked chest, hoping the words would reach him, would soothe all his worries.
For a long moment, Noah didn’t respond, but then he shifted, turning to face you. His eyes were soft but looked tired. "I know," he said quietly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "It’s just... when I realized he was back earlier, I don’t know... it just stirred up a lot of shit that is still there. You are important to me. I don't wanna lose you."
You smiled gently, sliding your hand to his face and cupping it tenderly, your fingers brushing his stubbled cheek. "You’re allowed to feel however you feel. And if you wanna talk about anything, I'm here." you whispered. "But don't think I'm gonna leave you. I’m right here. I'll be here until the day you'll tell me to go away." You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
And as if in response, his lips curved into a smile, a soft, real smile. You moved away slightly, your gaze meeting his.
"There it is," you teased, pressing more kisses to his face, his cheeks, his nose. His eyes closed, and he chuckled, the sound warm and genuine.
"Finally," you grinned. "I didn’t hear you laugh since this morning. I was starting to worry."
Noah’s laughter filled the quiet space between you two, and you thought, in that moment, that everything would be okay.
Even if Jason was back in town, he was still part of your past and that's where he was supposed to stay.
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🍪 a cookie for you if you caught the little bmth reference
Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @mathfairchild1 @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lma1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme
TBAF Tags: @aubrey-melinoe @klutzy-kay24 @mrscevans @concreteangel92 @iconic-taurus @niicoleleigh @cheyyyyr @supersquirrel1996 @respectfulrebel @alwaysfighforwhoyouare @clickmedead @missduffsblog
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rebelliousmuse · 3 days ago
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Diss Track - M.S and C.S.
Warnings: slight smut, unprotected p in v (use condoms).
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Matt and you have been casually dating for a few months now. You've developed a comfortable, easygoing friendship with benefits. He's a wonderful guy—sweet, kind, incredibly attractive, and always keeps you entertained with his interesting stories and unique perspective.
Today, he's heading to a recording studio with his brothers Nick and Chris to film a humorous video where they'll playfully tease and diss each other.
Since you're good friends with Nick, he asked you to join him at the studio. He mentioned that he didn't want to be bored while his brothers were busy recording their diss tracks. You gladly agreed and soon enough, they arrived at your place to pick you up.
After a short drive, you pulled up to the recording studio. Sam, their friend, was already there, ready to start working on the diss tracks. Sam's expertise would be crucial in bringing the brothers' playful feud to life. Before diving into the recording, they began brainstorming, writing down random phrases and ideas to form the foundation of their diss tracks.
Once they felt prepared, Matt and Chris stepped up to the mic taking turns. The initial jabs were playful, each brother delivering witty insults with a smirk. However, as the session progressed, the tone began to shift. One of Matt's lines, a particularly pointed remark about Chris's questionable eating and constant soda drinking habits, seemed to pierce through Chris's facade. His expression flickered with annoyance since Matt always annoyed him with those things, but he quickly masked it with a forced smile.
Sam, being close friends with Chris, sensed the underlying tension. His keen eye noticed the subtle change in Chris's demeanor, the way his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. To prevent any further escalation, Sam intervened, suggesting a short break. As the brothers retreated outside the studio, Sam could feel the residual heat of their unspoken rivalry. He hoped the brief respite would allow them to regain their composure and return to the playful spirit of the original plan.
Ever the curious one, you decided to stay behind to explore the studio equipment. Intrigued by the music industry, you wanted to learn more about the tools and techniques used to create music. As you were engrossed in examining a particular piece of gear, Chris entered the room. He found you gazing intently at the equipment with a look of fascination on your face.
"Hey, I thought you'd be with Nick getting snacks," Chris said, a small smile playing on his lips. He gestured towards the door, indicating that Nick had left to grab refreshments for everyone.
"Oh, I didn't know he'd left," you replied slightly taken aback. "I was just, you know, admiring Sam's studio. It's really impressive." Chris continued to smile with his gaze lingering on you a bit longer than necessary. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks and nervously averted your eyes back to the equipment, trying to avoid his intense stare.
"Wanna take a closer look at the record room?" Chris asked, leading you towards the room where he and Matt had just been trading insults. He held the door open for you to enter and followed closely behind.
"Aren't all these lights a bit distracting?" you asked, a bit overwhelmed by the bright blue lights illuminating the room.
Chris chuckled, "A little," he admitted, shrugging his shoulders. "But you kind of get used to it after a while."
"Right... and what does this button do?" you questioned, reaching up to touch a button. Chris quickly stepped closer, his hand hovering over yours. "Don't touch that," he warned, a hint of amusement in his voice.
He gently took your hand in his. As you realized how close he was, your heart pounded in your chest. Your eyes met, and you couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance to Matt, yet with a unique allure that set him apart. His eyes, held a captivating intensity that drew you in. You swallowed hard, trying to shake off the strange feeling. You were supposed to be attracted to Matt, your friend with benefits. But as your gaze held, an inexplicable pull drew you closer. Your body unconsciously leaned in.
The soft glow of the studio lights cast an ethereal glow on his face, highlighting his sharp features and full lips. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you became increasingly aware of the intimacy of the moment. A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers intertwined with yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.
He smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Without warning, he closed the gap between you two, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. You gasped softly and felt your body instantly melting into the embrace. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you flush against him. In response, your hands instinctively tangled themselves in his soft, brown hair, deepening the kiss.
The kiss started soft and sweet, but soon turned hungry and demanding. His lips trailed down your jawline, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His tongue teased your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. His lips found your neck, his teeth gently nipping at your skin, making your breath hitch. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, and you lost yourself in the sensation of his touch.
His hands roamed your body, tracing the curves of your form. He pulled you closer, his lips capturing yours in another searing kiss. When he finally pulled away, his eyes met yours, and he saw the same intense desire and lust mirrored back at him. He smirked, his eyes darkening with desire. "Let me show you how good I can make you feel, baby," he purred, his voice low and husky. Before you could respond, he recaptured your lips in a desperate kiss, his tongue dancing with yours. His hands found the hem of your dress, tugging at the fabric. As his fingers grazed your skin, a wave of anticipation washed over you.
The intensity of the moment was electrifying. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and your own temperature was rising in response. His touch was both gentle and demanding. You arched your back, pressing your body closer to his, eager for more. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that sent shivers down your spine. You moaned softly, your body trembling with anticipation.
As his hands worked their way under your dress, you felt a surge of excitement. You knew what was coming next, and you couldn't wait.
"We need to make this quick, though. We still gotta finish that video," Chris murmured against your skin, his voice low and urgent. Despite the urgency, his touch was gentle as he slid your underwear off. You mirrored his actions, your fingers fumbling with the zipper of his pants.
The intensity of the moment was palpable. The soft hum of the equipment provided a rhythmic backdrop to your passionate encounter. As you felt the cool air against your skin, a shiver ran through your body. You met Chris's gaze, your eyes filled with a mix of lust and anticipation. He responded with a knowing smirk, his eyes dark with desire.
With a swift movement he positions himself between your thighs, the head of his cock brushing against your entrance. The weight of his body against yours sent a thrill through you, igniting a fire within. With a swift thrust of his hips, Chris sheathes himself fully within you, stretching and filling you in the most delicious way. You gasp and close your eyes, surrendering to the pleasure. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the raw, primal desire that consumed you.
"Look at me, wanna see those pretty eyes as I make you mine," Chris grunted, his voice low and rough. His movements were deliberate, each thrust a deliberate assault on your senses. The intensity in his eyes mirrored the passion in his actions. You met his gaze, your eyes filled with a mix of desire and surrender. As he continued to move, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the moment, your body arching involuntarily with each powerful thrust.
Suddenly, an idea sparked in his mind. What if he could capture this moment, the raw, unfiltered pleasure in your voice? He could use the recording to relive the intensity of this moment later that night. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he discreetly pulled out his phone and began recording. He watched as your face contorted with pleasure, your moans and whimpers filling the room. A smirk crept across his face as he captured the sound of your ecstasy.
The soft glow of the studio lights illuminated your intertwined bodies, casting an intimate glow on the scene. The rhythmic sounds of your bodies filled the air, a symphony of passion and desire. Chris's grip tightened, his movements growing more intense. Your nails dug into his back, leaving a trail of marks. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, your body trembling with anticipation.
As you reached your peak, your body arched involuntarily, your cries filling the room. Chris, too, was on the brink, his breaths ragged and his body slick with sweat. In that moment, time seemed to stand still.
After the intense encounter, you and Chris took a moment to catch your breath. You were both flushed and breathless. Once you had composed yourselves, you joined Nick, Sam, and Matt outside the studio.
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Back inside the studio, Matt, fueled by the adrenaline of his earlier encounter with Chris and the lingering tension between them, stepped into the recording booth to finish the bars of his verse. He continued his diss track, each line more cutting than the last. He mocked Chris's fashion sense, and his lack of romantic success. The words were delivered with a venomous tone, each syllable dripping with contempt. Chris, visibly annoyed, listened to the recording, his jaw clenched tight. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as Matt's insults cut deep.
When it was Chris's turn to respond to Matt's barbs, he paused before entering the recording booth. He handed his phone to Sam, whispering a quick instruction that only the two of them could hear. A mischievous glint twinkled in his eyes as he shot Matt a narrowed stare. He then stepped into the booth, ready to deliver his counterattack.
"When I give you the signal, alright, man?" Chris whispered to Sam, who nodded in understanding. As Chris began to record, Sam prepared to execute their plan. The tension in the room was palpable. Matt, smug and confident, leaned back, anticipating Chris's feeble attempt at a rebuttal.
Chris cleared his throat and began to rap, his voice filled with a newfound intensity. He delivered a series of scathing insults, each one more cutting than the last. He exposed Matt's insecurities, his hidden fears, and his secret desires. His words were sharp and precise, each syllable a dagger aimed at Matt's ego. As Chris reached the climax of his diss, he paused dramatically, his eyes narrowing before he rapped his last few bars.
“I'm the king, the ace, the might,
A force of nature, shining bright.
Your lady knows, it's plain to see,
I'm the one, exclusively.
And if you doubt, just ask her, please,
She'll confirm with utmost ease.
And if she doesn't then allow me,
Hear her beg for my dick.”
Chris glanced at Sam giving him a silent signal. Sam, understanding the cue, pressed play on Chris's phone. A recording of your passionate encounter with Chris filled the room, your moans and Chris's suggestive whispers echoing through the studio. Matt's face turned a deep shade of crimson as he recognized your voice. His jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed with anger and humiliation.
Your eyes widened in shock as the recording played, your face flushing with embarrassment. You couldn't believe what you were hearing, your voice echoing through the studio. Meanwhile, Chris smirked triumphantly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He winked at you and then turned to Matt, shrugging nonchalantly and flashing a smug expression. The contrast between his casual demeanor and the explosive content of the recording was palpable.
The recording shattered the fragile peace of the studio. The once playful banter between the brothers turned into a bitter rivalry. Matt, consumed by anger and jealousy, vowed to get revenge. Chris, however, remained unfazed, his confidence bolstered by his victory. As for you, you were left to navigate the complex aftermath, caught between the two brothers.
Taglist: @mattsbitchh @riasturns
You have no idea how long I spent trying to make those rhymes.
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xaeoism · 3 days ago
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FLOWERS FOR YOU (Scaramouche x gender neutral reader)
A/N: Might've lost the plot after trying to write this out for months..
Scaramouche was a florist, and he's not very good in expressing his feelings.
While the exterior of the store might look cold and minimalist, the same cannot be said for the interior. The front window showcases the exquisitely done bouquets, attracting the eyes of passersby and inviting them to come in the store. Further inside, there are shelves carrying different floral species of every colour lined along the walls and buckets of fresh flowers arranged in rows on the ground, for customers to pick out the flowers themselves.
The cool air circulating around the store carries the scent of the fresh flowers, the fragrance further enticing customers that have just opened the door to come in and explore to their heart's content.
When Scaramouche hears the jingle of the bell hung at the top of the entrance, he sighs internally. After all, another customer just means another bouquet to arrange and wrap up for.
Scaramouche has never liked flowers.
He walks out to the counter and opts to put on the friendliest smile he could muster to see the customer already squatting down to check out the types of flowers they could choose from.
"Welcome, may I be of any assistance to you?", he questions.
The customer turns their head and gives Scaramouche a little nod to acknowledge him before bringing their attention back to the fresh flowers in front of them. Scaramouche's smile pulls into a thin line at the lack of response.
Just as he was about to turn around and click his tongue in annoyance, the customer stops him in his tracks when they finally open their mouth to ask, "If the bouquet was to be given to a love interest, what flowers would you recommend?"
He turns his head to the customer once more, a smile resurfacing upon his features. His favourite question. He replies with ease, "I'd recommend roses, baby breath and some lavender."
Classy, inexpensive and easy for him to wrap it up.
He makes quick work of the bouquet, ensuring that it has been wrapped neatly before ringing them up and sending them off with a smile.
When the bell rings again and he is greeted with the sight of you, he lets out a sigh to try and hide the small smile that forms on his face.
"Morning, Kuni. How are you doing today?", you ask, giving him such a sweet smile that even the beauty of the flowers combined can't compare.
Scaramouche has never liked flowers, but, he supposed that he would tolerate it for you.
"My day was going fine until you came.", he answers, narrowing his eyes when they meet yours.
"Oh? Did my presence make your day?", you teased while making your way through the store to get to him.
"You wish.", he retorts.
"Whatever you say, Kuni. Anyways, what are your top picks for this week?", you ask as you lean on the counter.
"For you? Nothing. Don't expect a bouquet."
You turn around after hearing those words, about to argue back before a bouquet appears in front of you. It was made out of all your favourites - the large white peonies dominate the bouquet with their soft, full blooms, slightly hidden by the small yet vibrant pink carnations. Long feathery ferns bring about texture and balance, completing the arrangement with a bright and delicate touch.
You look back at him, surprise evident in your eyes before it turns into a mischievous glint when you see the tip of his ears turning red.
"Oh, what's this now? I thought you said you weren't giving me anything?", you teased.
"Fine, don't have it then. I'll give it to the next customer for free.", he grumbles, retracting his arm back.
"Come on now Kuni, I never said I didn't want it.", you reply, hastily taking the bouquet from him before it disappeared under the counter. You held it close to yourself, a smile adorning your face as you admire the arrangement he made for you.
Warmth wraps around his heart like a blanket when he sees your expression towards the flowers, and he thinks that there is definitely no one else in this world who could make his heart beat just like you.
"Well, aren't you going to pay up? Surely you don't think that my service comes for free.", he asks with a small huff.
You look up at him, flashing him a bright smile before leaning over the counter to give him a kiss. "Thank you, Kuni. I really loved the flowers this time."
He takes a look at you for a few seconds, admiring your features before he pulls you close to him.
"Are you kidding? I think you owe me more than just one kiss, darling.", he says.
"Hmm, would ten more suffice?", you ask.
"Hah, I'll tell you when it's enough.", is all he says before his lips are on yours once more.
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redrose10 · 2 days ago
Note
Can you do an enemies to lovers with #18 Let’s play a game… with Yoongi please. 🙏😊
This is kind of like a lovers to enemies to lovers thing. I hope that’s okay! It’s also longer than I intended…
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< Sprinkles >
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of cheating, tiny hint of homophobia, Divorce, Smut (oral, unprotected sex, breast play…)
Enemies to lovers
#18 “Let’s play a game…First one to make a noise looses.”
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Yoongi: I swear Y/N if she’s not ready when I get there…
You: Omg Yoongi it was one time and she had an accident right before you got here. Let it go already…
You sighed as you tossed your phone aside. He was on his way to pick up your daughter for the week and apparently was set on never letting you forget the one time he got stuck in rush hour traffic on his way home because your daughter wasn’t ready as soon as he got there.
Things hadnt always been this bad between the two of you. At one point you were a loving happy couple and that only increased when your daughter, Hana, was born. Yoongi was the most the incredible husband and father and you couldn’t imagine your life any other way.
But a few months after she was born things started to fall apart.
Hana suffered from acid reflux so she was up most of the night crying. You and Yoongi took turns tending to her but by the time you would finally fall back asleep she’d wake up again and it was your turn to get up. Yoongi was working overtime trying to support all of you so that you could stay at home with the baby as long as possible so 99% of the household responsibilities also fell on your shoulders. You had reached a level of exhaustion you didn’t know was possible which led to the two of you not having much alone time together and any time you did spend in each other presence usually involved an argument of some sort.
They started as common arguments between couples like housework, bills, and making time for each other.
But over time the arguments turned into petty little things…Yoongi blinked too much, you used too many periods when texting, he didn’t like the way you said the word rainbow, he wore his green sweater too much.
The final straw was the argument on this birthday. You had put together a surprise party which he never showed up for. Instead he texted you that his boss wanted to take him out to dinner and he was really working hard towards a promotion so he didn’t want to say no. He promised to spend the entire weekend with you and Hana to make up for it.
You were beyond upset, but you understood he was just trying to better your lives so you did your best to cool down. It wasn’t until later that evening after everyone had left and Hana was asleep that you finally broke. Yoongi’s boss, Mr. Kim who you were friends with on social media, had posted a photo congratulating Yoongi on his new promotion. At first you were ecstatic. He had worked so hard for this and maybe now he could remove some of the stress and have more time at home. But then you saw it…or her.
Park Duri. She was technically Mr. Kim’s assistant but for some reason was always involved in Yoongi’s schedule. He talked about her a lot. You’d met her a few times and she seemed nice but you always got an uncomfortable feeling whenever you were around her and Yoongi together.
It infuriated you but mostly just hurt you that she spent your husbands birthday with him and also witnessed him get his promotion all while you sat at home eating cold left overs alone.
What brought you to tears though was seeing his arm wrapped so tightly around her shoulders while she leaned into him. He had the biggest gummy smile. He looked so happy. A happy you hadn’t seen in him since the day Hana was born. He certainly never looked that happy around you any more.
That night he stumbled into the bedroom after having one too many drinks in celebration, passing out on the bed without saying a word to you. That night you made up your mind. The next morning you called a lawyer and filed for divorce.
Things were bitter between the two of you ever since. The only positive was Yoongi was still a very present and loving father which is all you could ask of him. You just wished the two of you could be in a room together for more than a few minutes without blowing up at each other.
“She ready?”, he questioned as soon as you opened the door.
“Well hello to you too.”
“Hello my dearest soon to be ex wife. How are things down in hell where you come from?”, he spat clenching his jaw.
“You know what Yoongi why don’t you go fuc-“You had to stop your comment as you heard your daughter come running to the entrance way.
“Daddy!”, she shouted as she jumped into his arms.
“I missed you so much Hana Banana.”, he said giving her cheek a kiss.
“Tell your mother goodbye.”, he mumbled already half way down the hallway. You gave your daughter a hug and told her to behave before handing her the pink overnight bag she had and watched as she skipped down the hall with her hand tightly gripped onto Yoongi’s.
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You were nervous like extremely very incredibly nervous. You and Yoongi had to meet with your lawyers today to try and hammer out the last few details of your divorce. If you could get this done then you just had to go back in a week to sign everything and the divorce would be final.
“No absolutely not.”, Yoongi said making your eyes roll.
“Why not Yoongi? You get custody of Hana 50% of the time. I’m not asking for any money other than requesting we split all bills for Hana 50/50. I already have my own apartment and so do you. We have separate cars and separate bank accounts. What else could you possibly want?”, you shouted getting very irritated. Every single time you guys had tried to come to a conclusion in the divorce Yoongi found a way to drag it on just to spite you.
“I want something in here about us not letting Hana meet our future partners without the other parent meeting them first.”, he said pointing at the contract.
“What!! Absolutely not? You’re not MY father and have no say in who I date.”
“No but I am Hana’s father and I deserve to know about the men that you’re bringing around her. I shouldn’t have to find out from our five year old how you’ve been bringing some guy named Jimin, who’s apparently very handsome, around the apartment. I mean come on Y/N…we’re not even officially divorced. I never took you for that type.”
“And what.type.is.that?”, you hissed.
“The type to go around fucking other men before they are even officially divorced from their husbands.”
“EXCUSE me!! First off Jimin is Hana’s ballet teacher who’s been coming over to give her private lessons. She has a little crush on him. Maybe you’d know that if you actually talked to her and asked her questions about her life. Secondly, you have a lot of nerve accusing me like that. If I was sleeping with Jimin, which I’m not, at least I waited until we were separated.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”, he asked hurt and offended because he already knew what you were getting at.
“Oh cut the bullshit Yoongi. I know you were cheating on me with Duri and who knows who else. That’s why you always came home late smelling like another women’s perfume. That’s why we stopped being intimate. That’s why you stopped telling me you loved me. Isn’t it Yoongi?“
You were so angry by this point you couldnt see straight but it felt good to get that off your chest until you could feel tears forming. You hated crying in front of others, especially Yoongi.
Your lawyer Jin cleared his throat before giving wide eyes to Yoongi’s lawyer Namjoon. “Umm maybe we should continue this next week.”, Namjoon whispered somewhat afraid to get in between you two.
“Yes good idea.”, Jin said packing up his brief case. You stood up as well slinging your purse over your shoulder.
“Y/N wait”, Yoongi said but you stopped him, “No go fuck yourself Yoongi. I’m done.”
“Right back at you.”, he scoffed as you slammed the door behind you.
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“Tae, he knows he’s supposed to run it by me first if someone else is going to be picking up Hana other than him.”, you said feeling bad for the irritation in your voice. It wasn’t Taehyung’s fault at all. He put his hands up in defense, “I know I know. He said it was urgent and he would explain it to you later.”
You wanted to say no but Hana had already seen him at the door and was currently dancing around the house shouting party at Uncle Taes’s and you did trust him completely so you gave in and let him take her with a mental note to scold Yoongi later.
While you missed Hana dearly during these times you did appreciate having some alone time so you were sat on the couch in your comfy pjs with a glass of your favorite wine as you got caught up on a drama you had been sucked into.
The doorbell rang forcing you to get up and answer it and you really wished you hadn’t.
“Yoongi? Hana is with Tae.”, you said feeling a slight increase in panic.
He nodded, “I know.”
“Oh my god are they okay? Did something happen?”
He chuckled, “They’re fine.” He even showed you a photo he received of Hana giving Taehyung a full beauty makeover. You felt relief at seeing her okay and happy.
“Okay then why are you here?”, you questioned.
He held up a bag from your favorite bakery a few streets away, “I want to talk. No lawyers…no shouting…no arguing. We just need to talk like civil adults.”
You shook your head, “I don’t know Yoongi. That sounds like a bad idea. At least the lawyers could call the police when we kill each other.”
He chuckled at that, “Please Y/N.” For the first time in a long time you saw something in his eyes other than anger so you agreed and let him in.
After a few cookies and a few episodes of your drama you turned to him, “Alright, what do you want to talk about?”
“Well…first I want to apologize for what I said during the meeting with the lawyers the other day. I guess I was just kind of hurt and maybe a little jealous because I thought you had already moved on with someone else. But after thinking about it…I have no place to feel like that so you can do whatever you want with whoever you want. I just think we should agree to not introduce anyone to Hana for a while.”
“I agree…but I’m not interested in dating anyone right now. But if you…if you want to then I don’t care.”, you quickly added though he shook his head, “I’m good. I want to focus on work and Hana for a while.”
You nodded in agreement.
“I uh I also want you to know that I never cheated on you. I swear on Hana. I’ve never even thought about it.”, he said while pulling on his earlobe, a nervous habit of his.
“You came home smelling like perfume, many times Yoongi.”
“I know…I know but there’s an explanation for that which isn’t me cheating.”
You rolled your eyes, “Oh I can’t wait to hear this one.” You could tell he wanted to say something back but bit his tongue making you feel a little guilty.
“Y/N, do you remember on our first anniversary I gave you those flowers.”, you nodded, “Well I didn’t pay for them…actually I never paid for any of them.”
“You thief! Seriously Yoongi you were risking going to prison over flowers?”
“Will you shut up and give me the chance to explain?”, he barked. You huffed but leaned back into the couch.
“I had severely under estimated how expensive flowers had become. Thanks to all of our bills and our furnace breaking the week before I couldn’t afford to buy them. I started crying in the shop because I felt like the worst husband ever. The elderly woman who owned the place asked what was wrong and after some convincing I told her. She told me how her husband used to bring her flowers every week and it gave her something to look forward to no matter how tough of a time they were going through. So she gave me a small bouquet to give to you. I reminded her that I couldn’t pay but she said she only wanted a hug. So the next week after I got paid at work I went back to get you more flowers and pay her back for the first bunch but she wouldn’t accept my payment. She only wanted a hug. She did that every time that I went in there and that’s why I came home smelling like perfume. I never cheated with her…I mean… she did grab my butt once but I wouldn’t really count that.”
You chuckled at the mental picture before remembering, “And Duri?”
“Duri wouldn’t have wanted me even if I did want to cheat on you with her. She was a…she was not into men so you would’ve had a better chance than I did. She just liked me because I was one of the few people in the office that didn’t judge her.” This new information caused you to feel so many different emotions some good some bad.
“Y/N I never cheated on you. I’m sorry that I made you doubt that.“
“Okay yeah thanks for clearing that up. I’m uh I’m sorry for not asking sooner.”
“I’m also sorry that I stopped initiating anything intimate. It wasn’t you at all. I was just always so tired and stressed and then if I did want to do something you just seemed so angry and distant with me or Hana was acting up and I didn’t want to push you into any thing. But most of all I’m sorry that I stopped telling you how much I love you Y/N. There’s no excuse for that and I regret it more than anything.”
His words replayed in your mind over and over, “Yoongi did you mean you loved me?”
He shook his head, “I love you Y/N. I always have and I always will. That’s why I’ve been trying to drag on this divorce. I’ve been selfish because I didn’t want to let you go…but Monday…Monday we can call the lawyers and I’ll sign the papers. I won’t make you suffer any more.”
“I…I love you too Yoongi.,” you stiffled unsure of when you even started crying.
Quickly he pulled you into a hug, “Hey hey it’s okay. Don’t cry. I hate seeing you cry.”
“What do we do Yoongi?”
“Well…we can continue with the divorce if you want or we can try again. Go slow. Maybe see a couples counselor. I think having this talk really helped us so I think talking to a professional would be a good thing. But it’s up to you. I want to save this…I want to save us but I won’t force you.”
“Yeah I think…I think we should try to work on things.”, you nodded. He smiled and you smiled both breathing a sigh of relief.
Then Yoongi fidgeted with his fingers as he looked around the room that had suddenly become more awkward., “Well uh I guess I should get going. I need to save Taehyung from his baby sitting duties.”
“Oooorrr maybe you could stick around a little longer. I think Taes having the time of his life.”, you chuckled before flipping your phone over show him the text of a photo of Tae on the couch and Hana cuddled up next to him as he gushed about how wonderful she is.
He smiled at the cute photo before agreeing to stay since he really didn’t want to leave anyways.
Maybe it was the bottle of wine that you two had during the movie or the months and months without being touched or just being exhausted physically and emotionally that was causing your brain to go haywire but suddenly you could sense every little movement from Yoongi.
The way his chest moved up and down as he took slow breaths. The way he sat kind of slouched with his legs spread out. The way his fingers kept inching closer and closer to the bare skin of your thighs. It all sent a fury of emotions through you as you could feel your arousal building, almost making you feel silly for being so weak for him.
But you two had barely agreed to work on things less than a few hours ago so you tried your best to ignore the desires within you.
You knew that Yoongi was having similar feelings as you when his fingers continued to move slowly up the side of your thigh until his large hand was firmly situated on the top of your leg, his fingers began gently toying with the bottom of your shorts as if he was testing the waters to see if you were going to stop him. When you didn’t, he got a little more brave slightly pulling on your bottoms but then he suddenly pulled back.
“Y/N…I…We can stop if you’re not into this. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that...It’s just been so long.”
“I know it has been. Maybe…Maybe I want this too.”
He scooted closer until you could feel his warm breath hitting your cheek.
“Y/N, maybe isn’t enough for me. I need a yes or a no.”, his voice deeper than usual.
You thought for a moment. You thought about the positives and negatives. He started to move away taking it as a no when you stopped him. Quickly you lifted yourself up and straddle his lap before kissing him, “Yes I want you. I want you Yoongi. I want you so bad.”
That was all he needed to send his lips searching for yours. His hands grasped the end of your shirt and began pulling it up, you shimmied to help make it easier for him.
In one swift movement you were left completely bare in front of him thanks to having forgone a bra earlier in your search for optimal comfort.
He sat staring at you making you flush red.
“Fuck I’ve missed these.”, he smiled squeezing your breasts. “Yoongi don’t make it weird.”, you chuckled yet doing absolutely nothing to stop him especially once his mouth connected to your left nipple and he began gently biting down, something he knew you loved.
The more you moaned the more it egged him on to bite and squeeze and suck and leave marks all over your naked breasts. You started to grind down on him using his growing erection to provide some friction to your wet core. The sensation making you both throw your heads back.
“Want to make you feel good.”, you mumbled against his neck leaving kisses as you went.
“You’re already making me feel good Sprinkles.”
On your first date you got really excited to find out the cafe had sugar cookies covered in sprinkles. Yoongi thought it was the cutest thing ever and had in turn started calling you Sprinkles.
Your heart jumped at the use of your nickname that you hadn’t heard him say in so very long.
It wasn’t until you felt his hips buck up into you that you were brought back to reality, “No I want to make you feel really good.”, you whispered already on your knees while your fingers quickly worked on his belt and zipper. As you finally freed him you were reminded about just how big he was.
You saw him smirk as you stared somewhat in shock, “What don’t think that pretty mouth of yours can take me any more?”
You didn’t say anything. You wanted to bite back but instead you dove in. Your tongue licking a strip on the underside. You went right into a rapid pace, sucking, licking, paying close attention to the head just like he liked.
You took pleasure in watching him come undone above you. His cheeks tinted red, his legs spread far apart giving you ample room, you gripped onto his thighs as his head rolled back on the couch. He ran his hands through his hair getting lost in the feeling and savoring the sensations of your mouth taking him fully.
Suddenly his hand came and fisted a chunk of your hair, “Y/N, Stop…you gotta sto-“
You couldn’t get your mouth off in time before he started convulsing and a warm salty liquid coated the back of your tongue.
While it definitely was a confidence booster to know you could have that kind of an effect on him it was still funny to you and you couldn’t stop giggling, especially when you saw how embarrassed he looked.
“Shut up. It’s been a long time since I’ve had anything but my hand.”, he grumbled.
“No no it’s okay Yoongles.”, you giggled until your giggles turned into a scream as he lifted you up and carried you to the bedroom.
Once you were laid down on the bed he wasted no time in tearing off your shorts and removing his shirt leaving you both completely bare.
“Fuck look how wet you are.”, he sighed as he ran his fingers through your folds.
“Mmmm yes Yoongi.”, you moaned finally feeling a little relief until he abruptly stopped and pulled away.
You whined at the loss of contact earning a low chuckle from him.
“Please don’t tease. I need you so bad.”, you said as your hips began shifting looking for pleasure.
Yoongi being the way that he was decided to only tease you further. This time with the head of his already hardened again cock as he would barely give you the tip just to pull away leaving you needy and empty.
“Fine keep doing that…Maybe I’ll go ahead and call Jimin. I bet he wouldn’t tease me.”, you spat somewhat playfully somewhat loosing your mind.
Without warning Yoongi slammed into you fully sheathing himself. “Oh fuck Yoongi.”, you cried blissfully at the burning stretch.
“Yeah you like that. You think it’s nice to talk about other men while I’m fucking you.”, he growled, “I’ll make you forget he even exists. Fuck Y/N.” He was fucking into you with such a quick forceful pace that your whole body was being pushed up against the bed until you couldn’t go any more.
“Don’t stop. I’m about to cum. Please Yoongi.”, you cried.
“Yeah, then cum for me.”, he said, “let me feel you squeezing my cock like you want it.”
That was all it took until you were pulsing around him squeezing with everything you had as your body reveled in the feeling. A feeling you had long forgotten about.
Once you had come down from your high he wasted no time before he was pounding into you again trying to chase his own release.
“Whoa whoa.”, you said and he instantly pulled out looking at you with a worried expression, “What? Are you hurt?”
“You get to cum twice while I only got once? That doesn’t seem fair.”, you smirked while he looked at you slightly annoyed.
“I mean I think I deserve another one…or are you too out of the game to be able to make your girl cum more than once in a night.”, you playfully quipped.
Yoongi ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek in irritation, “You know you’ve become quite the mouthy one Sprinkles.“
He slowly stroked himself a few times knowing it was going to be difficult for him to hold off his already close orgasm.
“How about we make this a little interesting?”, he said lining himself up with your entrance.
“I’m listening.”, you said half moaning at the sensation.
“Let’s play a game…First one to make a noise looses.”, he said, “Loser has to cook dinner next Friday for date night.”
You head rolled back, “You’re on.”
“And I expect fresh baked brownies with my meal when I win.”, he arrogantly said as he slammed into you again.
He was watching himself disappear inside of you and reappear covered in your juices as a way to try and keep his focus when you decided to play dirty.
You squeezed your walls around his length as tight as you could trying to get a moan or a hiss but he was good. Instead he looked up giving you a look that said two can play that game.
He kept eye contact as he brought two fingers to your swollen clit rubbing figure eights to add extra pleasure as his mouth latched onto your right nipple. You bit down onto his shoulder to stifle the sounds your mouth was begging to make.
The two of you lasted at this for several minutes before you had a realization.
Yoongi was going slow, taking his time, gently thrusting in and out of you, which you knew meant he was close and trying to hold out as long as he could.
And then you decided to make the move that you knew would surely make him come undone and spill a litany of filth from his mouth.
You hooked a leg around him and with all the strength you had you pushed home and flipped over so that he was on his back and you were on top, his dick remaining inside you the whole time. You nearly laughed out loud when you saw the surprised look on his face but you managed to stifle it.
You started bouncing up and down on his cock with a rapid pace. Your were so close to your own orgasm. Your thighs were burning but you could feel his hands eagerly grabbing onto your body trying to stop it. He was so close too.
Carefully you leant forward just enough that you could suck little marks into his skin while still riding his dick. The angle allowing your tits to lightly brush up against his skin with your movements. You gave him a couple extra squeezes for good measure and next thing you knew his hands were on you holding you in place as his own hips bucked up into you, “F-Fuck Y/N. Fuck I’m coming... I’m coming. Baby fuck. I tried. I’m sorry.”
You could feel hot liquid already dripping out of you and making a mess on him as he helped you ride out your own high that quickly followed.
When your breathing had calmed he helped you off of him and quickly got you all cleaned up before laying down next to you on the bed.
“That was uh…I think we needed that.”, he said giving your hand a kiss.
“Yeah it felt good. I think that maybe we lost ourselves in being parents and forgot that we have needs too. Let’s…not do that again this time.” He nodded, “Speaking of which I should probably go relieve Taehyung. I told him I’d only be a few hours at most so he’s probably not happy.”
“Yeah probably. Hey make sure Hana eats something other than takeout this week please…and she has a dance less with Jimin on Wednesday so maybe be nice when you drop her off.”, you said following him to the door.
“Yes to the no takeout and we’ll see but no promises to the Jimin thing.”, he grumbled.
He put on his coat and shoes and gave you a kiss and was just about to walk out the door when you stopped him.
He turned to look and found you smiling hard.
“What?”, he asked confused.
“For dinner next Friday…I expect fresh baked sugar cookies with my meal.”, you giggled as his face fell remembering that he had in fact lost the game.
“Fine…sugar cookies it is…ooorrrr you know we could go best two out of three.”, he said already reaching out for you.
“And don’t skimp on the sprinkles.”, you shouted quickly shutting the door before you could give into his little game.
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silverynight · 2 days ago
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Gym "buddies"
Izuku's life changes the moment All Might gives him his gym membership card; he assures him he doesn't need it anymore (he's retired after all) and wants him to use it instead.
Izuku is a quirkless young man whose job is making support gear and suits for pro heroes, however, since he often wears them and tries them himself, he likes to keep himself in good condition. So far, he's been training at home, but now he has the opportunity to go to a proper gym.
He thanks the symbol of peace, hugs him, and leaves with excitement in his eyes.
However, his enthusiasm vanishes when he arrives and realizes that there are only two kinds of people in that place: very rich ones and pro heroes.
And he doesn't belong to any of those groups. After a while he decides to stay since All Might even called the place to let them know Izuku was going instead of him.
He can't disappoint him now.
Nervous, he looks around only to see Uravity and Pinky talking happily to each other; part of Izuku wants to get closer to them and ask for an autograph, but he decides to control himself.
It's not like any of them could recognize him; the pro heroes don't have the time to go in person and ask for repairs to the support department, instead, they send assistants or people who work in their respective agencies to leave the suits.
Of course, there are exceptions, there always are.
"Midoriya!"
Izuku gets slightly startled as he notices Ingenium, waving at him before walking towards where he is.
He's one of the few heroes who has met Izuku.
"Ingenium-san, hi!"
"Please, we've talked about this, just call me Iida."
He nods, cheeks turning slightly pink as he notices the pro heroes around looking at them both with curiosity.
He relaxes as soon as Iida starts talking with him, asking about his job in general and answering Izuku's enthusiastic questions about his latest missions; he's used to those already.
The next day, Uravity introduces herself and upon realizing Izuku has worked on her hero suit, she starts looking at him with admiration and awe; he doesn't think there's anything about him worth admiring, but he doesn't point that out.
He gets to know a lot of pro heroes at that gym and none of them have tried to kick him out so far, even though he doesn't quite belong there.
Izuku's first week is amazing, and he believes there's nothing that can change his mind about it until the second week.
Turns out Dynamight goes to that gym too.
Actually, he's one of the current pro heroes Izuku admires the most, so Izuku is tempted to get closer at first, until he notices the explosive hero has been staring at him the whole time since he arrived.
He can't read the blond's expression, but he assumes Dynamight doesn't like him that much so Izuku decides to keep his distance from him.
He chooses a treadmill that's at the other side of the room to get started. Izuku takes a deep breath, relaxes, and closes his eyes for a few seconds until he hears someone pressing buttons on the treadmill next to him.
He almost falls off when he notices Dynamight. However, Izuku recovers quickly and decides to pretend nothing happened.
Although he swears he can feel the blond's red eyes on him the whole time.
After a while, he goes to one of the leg press machines before he notices that Dynamight is following him closely.
"You work for Hatsume."
Alright, now that he's talking to him, Izuku can't keep pretending he doesn't exist so he turns around to face him. The guy is not only taller but clearly stronger than him.
"Yes, I'm–"
"Midoriya Izuku, I know," Dynamight cuts him off, looking like he didn't mean to. His face turns a little bit pink.
"How do you know that?" He blurts out, genuinely curious.
The pro hero starts rubbing the back of his neck like he's nervous, and he looks away from Izuku for a moment before answering his question.
"I go to her lab often because I like to know exactly what's done to my suit," he admits. "I saw you for the first time a few months ago; Hatsume told me she had a new, very talented employee and that he was the one working on my gauntlets. I got closer to ask you personally what the hell you were doing to my stuff, but you were so happily focused I couldn't... interrupt you."
Izuku notices then, the fond smile curling up the corners of Dynamight's lips, and he regrets glancing at him because he looks very handsome when he actually smiles.
"Uhh..."
"I kept going after that, but you were always so focused on your work you never noticed me," the pro hero continues, pouting a bit. He's so used to the attention he probably doesn't like when he doesn't get it.
"I'm sorry, Dynamight-san..."
"I'm Katsuki, and I want you to call me by my name, Izuku."
His own name on the pro hero's lips sounds so intimate, Izuku blushes immediately. It's even worse when Katsuki notices and smirks at him.
"Ka..." Even trying it makes him feel flustered, so of course he immediately screws it. "Kacchan!"
The pro hero looks back at him in confusion and Izuku is seriously thinking about giving All Might his membership back and never going back to that place when Katsuki chuckles as he puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Fine, you can call me that if you want."
After that Katsuki always follows him whenever he's in the gym at the same time Izuku is; he even helps him when Izuku struggles to figure out new machines and makes a very intense workout routine for him.
Izuku is sure they're very good friends now, and he often laughs at his past self for believing Katsuki hated him.
He used to think he had a bad temper, but turns Bakugo Katsuki is a very sweet guy, although Izuku knows it's better not to say that out loud.
The most surprising thing about pro hero Dynamight is that he's rather clumsy, which is really weird considering he's so precise during his battles (Izuku has watched a few of those) but at the gym he's constantly dropping things and bumping into machines, especially when Izuku has his back on him and bends over to do a particularly difficult exercise.
It's so odd.
He hears a noise behind him and turns around only to find Katsuki on the floor, face red and a little bit of blood coming from one of his nostrils.
"Kacchan, are you alright?"
"He's fine, Midobro!" Kirishima grins, looking quite amused.
"What happened?"
"He got distracted by your... leggings."
Izuku looks at Red Riot in confusion before looking down at his legs; the leggings are not that bright, they're dark red and not flashy at all. He wonders what was that interesting about them that got Katsuki distracted.
"I see that leg day has been really good on you, bro," Kirishima points out, following Izuku's eyes. "You have very thick–"
"SHUT THE HELL UP, SHITTY HAIR!" Katsuki growls, rising from the ground before standing in the middle of Izuku and Kirishima. "Do you want to die?"
"Calm down, Bakubro!" Kirishima chuckles, looking quite relaxed. He's probably used to the other pro hero's displays of irritation. "I'm just being nice to our friend!"
"Fine!" Katsuki says, but he still pushes Izuku behind himself even more, although he does it gently.
***
After an intense workout routine, Izuku ends up on the floor, exhausted. A hand touches his forehead as a big shadow looms over him for a moment.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, just give me a second, Kacchan."
The same hand appears in front of him, and Izuku wakes it without hesitation. Before he can even blink, he's back on his feet already.
Katsuki hands him a bottle of cold water.
"Thank you!" It's been barely a month, but it feels like Katsuki has known him his whole life.
Sometimes it's like he can hear Izuku's thoughts.
"Come, nerd. I'll take you to your apartment."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I have time today."
Katsuki also pays him quick visits to Hatsume's lab, and he actually stays there and talks to him. Izuku takes his break whenever he appears.
"I'm glad you finally decided to talk to your crush," Hatsume tells him the first time the pro hero draws Izuku's attention by saying his name. "It was a bit sad to watch you pine and give him the heart eyes in silence."
"SHUT UP!"
"Kacchan, relax," he chuckles, as he notices him turning bright red at the young woman's words. "She's just joking!"
Because there's no way that's true. Hatsume probably just wants to piss Katsuki off. He'd never look at Izuku with love in his eyes.
It's ridiculous.
Usually, Hatsume doesn't like having pro heroes there, but she makes an exception with Katsuki because he helps them test new gear, especially the magnetic shields she has designed for some heroes.
Besides, she likes watching things explode.
Although the number of times Katsuki is there has led to some of Izuku's coworkers getting the wrong idea about them.
Even the pro heroes at the gym ask Izuku the weirdest questions every now and then.
"We're more like... gym buddies?" Even that sounds odd coming from his mouth, Izuku has no idea why.
"I think you're saying gym boyfriends wrong, sweetie," Ashido chuckles, prompting Kaminari to laugh too.
It's a good thing Katsuki is on patrol that day; he would've gotten mad.
"No, I'm serious," Izuku says, turning bright red. "We're just friends!"
"Wow, Bakugo is an idiot," Kaminari gives Ashido a weird look.
"He totally is!" She agrees. "Anyone could try to steal this cutie if he doesn't hurry up!"
Izuku wants to tell them that their relationship is not like that, but it seems that no matter what he says they're not going to change their minds; they seem to believe Katsuki is secretly in love with him or something.
He has no idea why.
***
Izuku meets pro hero Shoto one Thursday evening; he just finished his work and headed straight to the gym.
When he sees him, he gets immediately flustered. It's not every day one gets to meet Japan's number two pro hero after all.
"Hi. I don't think I have ever seen you before."
Pro hero Shoto is very blunt sometimes.
"I've been coming here since September... so, yeah, I'm practically new here," Izuku smiles, prompting the pro hero to do the same. "I'm Midoriya Izuku!"
"Oh," finally, something akin to recognition in those mismatched eyes. "I've heard your name before. You fixed my suit last time it got destroyed by a villain, right?"
"Yes, that'd be me!"
"You did a great job. I was very impressed."
"Thank y-you, pro hero Shoto!"
"Please, call me Todoroki or just Shoto, if you want."
"Izuku!" Katsuki calls as soon as he walks in the gym. "Come here, I need to bench press you right now!"
He does that a lot lately; he uses Izuku instead of the very expensive equipment around, Katsuki assures him it's better that way, but he's not sure about that.
"I don't think that's a good idea," Todoroki comments then. "There's plenty of things you can use instead of Midoriya."
"What the hell are you doing here, half and half?"
"Toya and the old man got into a fight again," he says like it's nothing that surprises him anymore. "They were in our private gym when it happened, so it's destroyed now. It'll take a couple of days for the people we called to leave it as it was before. That's why I'm here."
Izuku is sure Todoroki doesn't say it to show off, but now he gets an idea of how rich he actually is.
He's so impressed he doesn't notice Katsuki until he's in front of him, almost like he wants to shield him from the other pro hero.
"Come with me, Izuku."
Todoroki looks from one to the other with curiosity.
"Is it really better if you try it with a person?" He asks before looking over Katsuki's shoulders, directly at Izuku: "Can I bench press you too, Midoriya?"
"FUCK OFF, HALF AND HALF!"
***
Todoroki becomes a good friend of his; he keeps coming to same gym as Izuku even after the one in his house is complete again.
Although, Katsuki gets a bit tense whenever he the three of them hang out; Izuku is not sure why, Ashido assured him they were in good terms, sure they're rivals, but they are also friends.
"Do you like half and half?"
"Absolutely, he's a great friend!"
"I don't mean it like that, nerd," Katsuki gets slightly irritated, as he usually does when Izuku doesn't understand what he's trying to say. "I mean if you like him... romantically."
"Oh!" Izuku blushes; he doesn't talk about romance around the pro hero... ever, so he gets a bit nervous, well, it's actually because the one he finds very attractive is Katsuki, but he's not going to say that. "No, I only see Todoroki as a friend."
Katsuki relaxes after that; they finish their routines like nothing happened, but the tension comes back to his shoulders after they take a shower and get ready to leave the gym.
Looking down at the floor instead of him, Katsuki takes one of Izuku's hands in his to stop him.
"What is it, Kacchan?"
"Would you like to go for a coffee with me?"
"Of course, although we usually do that!"
This time, Katsuki looks into his eyes before continuing: "No, I mean... as a date."
For a second, Izuku thinks he's dreaming, but he wouldn't blush that much in one of his dreams; he's usually more confident.
"Yes, I'd love to!"
Katsuki gives him one of those happy, devastating smiles of his before intertwining their fingers together.
Izuku needs to call All Might and thank him for that membership again, but he'll probably do that later.
He has to focus on his date with Katsuki first.
***
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maddiedott · 20 hours ago
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It Will Come Back
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Pairing: Logan Howlett x GN! Reader
Warnings: Very rushed ending, Logan through various different movies/timelines, gn! reader, fluff and tad bit of angst, sexual implications but not explicit, alcohol consumption (let me know if i missed anything)
Hi! Hope everyone is having a great day! I've been struggling with some Wolverine hyperfixation and Deadpool Wolverine being released on Disney+ like 2 days ago didn't help much. So, I decided I would finally post this fic thats been in my drafts for like a month now? It's heavily inspired by Hozier's 'It Will Come Back', so please enjoy!
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Time was always a fickle thing for someone who could never age, who had lived centuries and watch as it affected everyone you loved and yet hasn’t graced you with the same courtesy, a long stretch that dipped into the horizon and melted against the inevitable void. There were times when you yearned for the ice cold grip of death, the blissful eternal sleep that most try to run away from, to prevent. But that was before you had met him, before he whispered life back into your hollow bones.
It was a fleeting encounter, words exchanged in a fraction of a second. You couldn’t recall how long this cat and mouse game played out, but you eagerly waited for the next moment you would see him, even if just for a glimpse. It started out slow, the long pull and stretch of time that came with his absence.
The first time you had met was in 1932, a time where many longed for the cold, dark Earth to envelop them so they wouldn’t have to suffer much longer. The interaction was brief, a swift knock to the shoulder as you passed down the street. He grumbled an apology, his voice rough and with an accent that didn’t quite stick in your head enough to name. There was a hesitation in his step as his gaze met yours, more of intrigue than anything else. He stopped completely as you called out, brows furrowed in annoyance. He turned towards you, apology leaving his lips. He introduced himself as James Howlett. An odd last name. You gave your name in kind with a smile.
He looked exhausted, although there wasn’t anyone in This Depression that wasn’t. So, despite your better judgment, you offered him a place to stay and some lukewarm meals to hold him over until he could find work. You never were much of a cook, even now you struggle to prepare much of anything, but it’s not without lack of trying.The rundown country home had been your home for a little before the dust bowl and the drought begun since you had moved into it, trying to busy your lonely mind with farm work. You had set the loft in the barn on your sparse and dusty property for him, giving him plenty of blankets and cloth that would make for a functional and maybe comfortable bed. He mentioned a brother who you had seen only briefly every now and again entering the barn before leaving a few minutes later, always snarling. And even though your instinct was shouting at you to question it, you never did.
There was always an objection to the kindness you showed him when you would bring meals, to leave him to the land as that’s all he knew- how he sleeps, to not be kind. But each time he only came back. It was routine until you found a small note etched in charcoal with the words ‘I come back’. And just like that he had vanished as if he had never existed, disappearing and leaving a strange ache in your chest.
You couldn’t tell when the next time we met was as the years turned to decades. People like you had gained a name; ‘mutants’ and they were becoming more and more common around the world. As narcissistic as it sounded, you thought you had been the only one, cursed to roam the Earth for eternity while watching everyone grow old and die around you. You hadn’t expected to run into him, not after 3 decades, and you surely did not expect for him to look just as the day that you last saw him, nor to recognize you.
You sat beside him on the barstool, not speaking until a whisper of your name fell from his lips as if he had figured out the answer to all of the prayers he’d whispered in the dead of the night to an unseen God.. A smile graced your face before you could stop it, turning in the seat to give him your undivided attention.
“You shouldn’t smile at me like that, you know better.” He gruffly spoke.
You didn’t realize how easy it would be to miss someone’s voice until you heard his. It was as if his words were a melody and you had been searching for the right tune all your life. Just the sound of his voice had been enough to cure you of any ailments for the day. You continued to show him the kindness he so desperately wanted to refuse. To offer him a hand and a soul, one that he feels less deserving of. This time was shorter than the last.
A few drinks, some chatting, walking, and a stumbling mess of feverish, open-mouthed kisses as we reached your apartment and found your way to the couch, the floor, and then the bed. He had ruined you, that much you knew from the very first press of his lips against yours, from the whisper of your name in the bar just a few blocks away, or perhaps it was the very first time his shoulder hit yours.
Towards the end of your euphoric highs, you had noticed the extension of bones from between his knuckles as they dug into your mattress and utterly destroying it. It led to a pensive conversation that eased as you revealed your own curse, your lack of morality. He showed off his claws, explaining his own hyper senses and regenerative properties. You admired the bone that extended from the divots between his knuckles, fingers ghosting over the claws. The night morphed into day as you both recounted stories, although you could tell his were vague and lacking details, keeping them for the darker parts of his mind away from the light.
You hadn’t realized him to be an army man before that night, but sure enough he was being shipped out that next day. So the reunion was cut painfully short and you had to wish him farewell from the comfort of your apartment’s sheets, tangled and damp with cold sweat from the previous night.
It was the middle of winter the next time. You moved from place to place as to not raise suspicion on why one of the neighbors never aged, stuck in a younger body than that hasn’t changed in the last few years of where you stayed. You could never forget James, he was always a lingering thought, a distant wish to run into him once again. As the seasons transitioned from to another, that wish slowly fizzled out.
It burned brighter one particular night, when there was a strange howling outside your door. There had been wolves hanging around, but they sounded nothing like this. So, with little fear to your well being, you opened the door.
He looked different, scruffier and wild. There was a metal contraption on his head that wired down to two boxes on either side of hips. The machinery and mechanism was complex as if he were some part of someone’s cruel experiment. There was a snarl sound emanating from his throat, sitting on his haunches. But his state of undress in the dead of winter was not what caught your eye but the sharp metallic ‘shik’ as metal drew from the divots where bone once did. A sharp gasp left your lips as he slowly stood to his full height, eyes locked and unwavering. He sniffed the air like an animal before taking a step forward, his instincts fueling his muddled mind, the movement subconscious.
He had found his way back, but at what cost? What had this poor man endured to become this way? This feral?
As he took a step forward you mirrored in a step backwards, crossing the threshold of your home and he simply followed. His wild eyes darted from corner to corner, sniffing once more and then taking a deep inhale. He visibly eased up, although still had the behavior of a cornered animal. You let him into the warmth of your home, let him wander and orient himself with his surroundings despite your conscious telling you not to.
It took multiple hours of gentle coaxing and many more attempts of snapping from him until you managed to get him to sit and settle down enough to remove the headpiece and electroids from his body, having them fall to the floor with a thud onto the carpeted floor. He just stared, even a whisper of his name had his head cocked to the side like an animal in a state of confusion.
There was dried blood under his nails, hair greasy and filled with mud and- you didn’t think you wanted to know what else it contained. Bathing and feeding him was no easy feat, metal meeting flesh and red decorating the floor; but, you eventually got it done and even had him dressed in sweatpants that were a bit too tight and the cuffs raised to his mid calf. It would have been comical if he wasn’t so out of his wits.
The next few weeks were awkward, each time you tried to leave he would grab your arm and tighten his hold in an attempt to get you to stay, but you needed food and he needed clothes that actually fit him. He still didn’t speak, just low huffs and grunts. When he finally did speak, it was low and broken as if he had forgotten how.
“Lo… gan…”
The words confused you. Why was he saying a stranger’s name?
“Is he the one that did this to you?” You ask softly, swiftly sitting beside him on the couch. You received a shake of his head in return and another mutter of the man’s name.
“I don’t understand.”
He ruffled into his pocket until a small clink of metal emerged and he withdrew dog tags with the name ‘Logan Howlett’ engraved. It was his last name, but the first one made no sense. On the opposite side it read ‘The Wolverine’. Was that his army name? You had heard of getting nicknames when in service but had no real idea about it.
“You’re Logan?” You clarify, eyes moving from the metal within his palm to his own eyes, still wild but tamed for now.
You received a nod from that, signifying you were correct in your assumption. That would make sense why he had never acknowledged me when you had called him James. So, from then on you referred to him as Logan.
You try not to think about the time during which you helped bring him back to a state of humanity, finding out his memories were scattered and he held no recognition in his eyes other than finding the smell of your home, of you, familiar. You cared for him, allowed him a place to stay and took him with you until he suggested a RV bed for an old truck. With the stash of cash you had dwindling, not expecting to care for another person, you hastily agreed. From there you traveled. City to city, province to province, finding cage fighting bars for cash while trying to bring peace to Logan’s mind and retrieve the memories lost or stolen from him.
Finding Rogue was a blessing, even more so when Scott and Ororo had rescued you both. You had been given a home and a lead on Logan’s missing memory and a chance for him to be a part of a team. So, when he was given information on a location that might jog his memory and insisted he would go alone, giving you his dog tags as a promise, you held some worry of course, but knew that he will come back.
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runnning-outof-time · 2 days ago
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If It’s Meant to Be | John Shelby x Reader
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Request: yes by anonymous
Pairing: John Shelby x fem!Reader
Summary: John and (Y/N) were friends when they were younger. Life, as life does, pulls them apart for some time before they find each other again while (Y/N) is helping someone who happened to be lost.
Warnings: season 4 spoilers…maybe?? (I’m re-writing canon to make things better), language
Word Count: 4450
A/N: if I’m being honest I quite enjoyed following your prompt/request, anon! I hope I was able to add everything you were hoping into it and that it turned out along the lines of what you were imagining! I’m sorry that it’s taken ages for me to share. Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
comment/message me if you want to be tagged!
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If it’s meant to be, it’ll be. That phrase gets thrown around so much. John Shelby always thought that he and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) were meant to be. But things didn’t quite work out that way…at first.
They were practically inseparable as teens. All it took was one meeting near the cut for the two to know that they wanted to be in each others lives for as long as possible.
Wherever (Y/N) was, John was to be found close by. If John was out doing something, nine times out of ten (Y/N) was helping out in some way.
Family members often joked that the two were attached at the hip. Ada even went as far as to conspire with (Y/N)’s younger sister, the two saying that they were excited to become future sister-in-laws.
But things don’t always work out to plan.
The dream of the families uniting as one through John and (Y/N)’s union crumbled slowly rather than it just being one, major blow.
(Y/N) started delving more into her studies; having big dreams of graduating and going further in schooling so that she could make something of herself. She’d always wanted to have more than just the lower-level jobs that Small Heath had to offer. She still tried to see John as much as she could, but the nights that were once spent gallivanting around the streets together had now been swapped for study sessions.
John couldn’t be completely mad at his friend. He wanted her to succeed and have the life that she was dreaming of. Sure he missed her company, and truly relished in the time that they were still able to spend together, but to say that he was now left completely in his lonesome would be a lie.
John met Martha Davies when she and her family moved to Small Heath.
Unlike how he was with (Y/N), who he tried so hard to hide his deeper feelings for behind the mask of friendship, John immediately went forward with expressing his desire to get to know Martha better.
While (Y/N) was busy with studying, John was busy with Martha. It was easy to tell how quickly the two had fallen for each other.
The news - though it really shouldn’t have given how quickly the two became…acquainted with each other - came as a shock just only six months into John knowing Martha. Hell, (Y/N) had only met her a handful of times before John was excitedly telling her the news that Martha was pregnant and he was going to be a father.
(Y/N) should have been happy for him. And on the outside she tried her best to present her emotions that way. But deep down, her real feelings that she’d been harboring towards her friend for years now were being crushed. She always pushed them aside for fear that he only purely saw her as a friend; for the fear that her revealing them would cause him to run from her life forever. Now there was no way that he’d ever know of them.
John, who was just a few months shy from his final teenage year, was now going to be a husband and father — he felt it was only right that he marry Martha given the fact that they’d now share a child.
If John was going to grow up this suddenly, (Y/N) felt that she should to. Her prelininary studies were finished and she was ready to go and make something of herself.
And so she moved to London, one step closer to her dream but many miles away from the person who grew up alongside her.
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— 1924 —
Ada was the first to learn that (Y/N) was back in town. She didn’t waste any time in inviting her to what the Shelby woman promised would be ‘an amazing evening’.
Many things had changed since (Y/N) had last seen the Shelbys. One of the more major ones was the fact that they had quickly rose into wealth and power.
On this particular evening, Tommy and his new wife, Grace, were holding one of their regular events; where people of power and prospective business partners gathered to shake hands and attempt to make deals. It was a circle that (Y/N) felt she was so far removed from.
Ada’s persistence was hard to ignore though. She kept focusing on the fact that it was a different sort of event for the family invovled, and that everyone would be thrilled to see her again. (Y/N) couldn’t deny the fact that she, too, would be overjoyed to see the Shelbys again…even if it meant that her heart might break.
She made sure to wear one of her more sophisticated outfits and that her appearance was as perfect as it could get. When the time to leave arrived, she checked over herself in the mirror one last time before grabbing her clutch and heading down to the car that was waiting for her.
The manor she pulled up to left her in awe. Never did she expect to be welcomed into a place as grand as this. But if there was anyone in her life, past or present, who could be capable of obtaining this sort of grandeur, it would no doubt be Tommy Shelby.
“(Y/N)!” Of course Ada was the first person to find her. “I’m so happy you came!” the brunette exclaimed as she hasitly pulled her into a hug.
“You doubted I would?” (Y/N) asked, trying to focus on her friend rather than the crowd of people present in the grand foyer area of the manor. If there’s this many people in the entry room, how many would be in the banquet hall? she thought to herself.
“Never,” the other woman shook her head, “come with me. The others will be so excited that you’re here!” she then said, taking hold of (Y/N)’s forearm so that she could lead her into the banquet hall. (Y/N) hesitantly followed, not quite wanting to see the man she used to call ‘best friend’ just yet.
Thankfully Ada pulled her to Polly first. (Y/N) was happy to see her. Polly was just as much an aunt to her as she was the Shelby siblings. And, much like Ada had promised, the older woman was thrilled to see her again.
Time quickly slipped away and (Y/N) truly felt like the tiny group that had been assembled were the only ones in the room. She quickly slipped into a comfortable state, the crowds of people truly disappearing as the women caught up on everything they’d missed out on in the others’ lives.
Ada was the first to be pulled away. She was found by one of the house’s staff — which blew (Y/N)’s mind…Tommy had staff now?! — who needed her because Karl was becoming restless and ready for bed. She promised that she’d only be gone briefly and that she’d find Polly and (Y/N) again as soon as she was finished.
Polly got pulled away too. Tommy needed her to meet a prospective business partner. He greeted (Y/N) warmly — after he realized it was her — and expressed his gladness to see her before asking his aunt to join him for a moment.
Now (Y/N) was alone in this crowded hall of people. She stood and did some crowd-watching for some time (people just being people truly fascinated her) before deciding to go and find some refreshments to indulge in.
But she didn’t make it to said refreshments table…and it seemed that she wasn’t the only person who was alone at the party.
Although there were people moving all around, it seemed as though she was the only person who noticed the small boy who was cowering into himself with fear present in his eyes.
Cautiously, and with a friendly smile, she approached the child, whose bottom lip was quivering. It was evident that he’d been crying. “Do you need help, sweetheart?” she asked him, keeping her voice calm and level in hopes to not spook him any more than he already had been.
The boy only nodded his head, his wide eyes matching hers. The desperation present in them nearly broke (Y/N)’s heart.
“Are you hurt?” she asked a question.
The boy shook his head, ringing his small hands together.
(Y/N) inwardly sighed in relief. At least he’s not hurt, she thought to herself, now what could be the matter? After racking her brain, she asked another question, “are you looking for someone?”
The boy nodded this time. More relief filled (Y/N)’s body. He said nothing in addition to his nod, though, so she still had some more questions to ask.
“A friend?” she asked, remembering that she’d seen several children running around the room earlier.
The boy shook his head.
“A grown up?”
The boy nodded.
Ok, on the right track, (Y/N) thought, nodding along with him. “Your parents?” she asked.
“M-my dad,” the boy finally spoke, his mouse-like voice breaking (Y/N)’s heart. What he said next shattered it even further into pieces, “my mummy’s not here anymore. She…my aunt said she went to heaven.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, sweetie,” (Y/N) gave her condolences with a frown. “How about we go find your dad, hmm?” she then asked, offering another friendly smile.
“Ok,” the boy nodded, reaching his hand out for (Y/N) to take. The woman smiled as she accepted it, and the two began walking, searching through the crowd for his father.
“Let me know if you see him, ok?” (Y/N) said to the boy. She’d just realized that she had no idea who his father was.
“Johnny there you are!” a young girl exclaimed, her eyes set on the boy (Y/N) had been helping.
“We were looking everywhere for you!” a second girl chimed in.
(Y/N) looked down at the boy, whose expression hadn’t changed. She crouched down slightly to be more on his level. “Do you know them?” she asked him.
The boy nodded. “They’re my sisters,” he answered, his eyes still focused on the girls, who were now approached them.
“Who are you, miss?” the older of the two girls asked once they stopped in front of (Y/N) and the boy.
“My name’s (Y/N),” the woman introduced herself with a smile, “your brother was lost and needed some help finding your dad.”
“Well we don’t know where dad is either,” the younger of the two girls stated in a matter-of-fact tone, “but Johnny can come with us. We’re dancing.”
(Y/N) looked to the boy, who had calmed down significantly now. “Is it ok if you stay with your sisters?” she asked, her eyebrows raised slightly.
The boy nodded his head, the slightest of smiles now present on his face. (Y/N) smiled back, happy that he was no longer upset. But he caught her hand before she was able to stand up straight again. “Will you stay with us, Miss (Y/N)?” he asked in a sweet voice.
The question really wasn’t up for decision in (Y/N)’s mind. She knew her answer right away. Hell, she had nothing else better to do, or no one else she needed to see…so why not pass the time with these kids? “Of course,” she answered with a smile, laughing softly as the three children all cheered in joy. The little group wasted no time falling into beat with the music and dancing with smiles on their faces.
Unbeknownst to (Y/N), Polly and Ada had regrouped and were now watching her and the children as they danced.
“I wonder if she knows,” Ada queried out loud, watching her friend dance with her neices and nephew with a small smile.
“I don’t think she does,” Polly answered, shaking her head. A tight-lipped smile was also present on her face.
“You two seen any of the kids anywhere?” the voice of John Shelby came from behind the ladies, “ran off a while ago…haven’t fucking seen them since.”
Ada and Polly shared a look, both biting back smiles. John was able to catch said look.
“Well go on…share it,” he pressed them, his brow furrowing in annoyance. He didn’t have time for this…there were drinks to drink and ladies to charm. If they thought he’d be spending the entire evening chasing after his children, they’d be dead wrong.
“Your youngest was up with Karl. He was asleep when I went to attend to him,” Ada shared some information about Maxwell Shelby, John’s four year old.
“And the others?” John’s brows were now raised.
“They’re right over there,” Polly answered, pointing a finger in the direction of the dancing group.
John wasted no time following her finger and when he did, his world stopped. No. That…that couldn’t be her…could it? Questions raced through his mind as memories flooded back. God, she looks more beautiful than the day she left me, he was so entranced that he just about forgot how to breathe.
“John?”
The voice of his aunt brought him back to reality, and he shook his head as he snapped out of the trance she put him in. A hand went up to scratch the back of his neck instinctively, and he hoped that he could play off his staring. The grins on both of the women’s faces told another story.
“He didn’t hear a word you said, Pol,” Ada snickered, loving the fact that she was able to poke fun at her brother.
“Oh fuck off,” John grumbled, trying so hard to keep his focus on his family and not the beautiful woman that was still playing with his children. A silence fell between the trio and John took it to do just what he was stopping himself from moments ago. “I…I, uh, I should…” he stopped his babbling, clearing his throat and trying to regain his wits. Christ, just the sight of her had him babbling like a fucking child. “I should probably uh, probably go over and see how they’re getting on,” his statement sounded more like a suggestion…which was weird because he was essentially suggesting for himself to go and do it.
“Go on then,” Polly wasted no time in agreeing with her nephew, motioning over to where (Y/N) and the children still were.
“Yeah,” John agreed, like it wasn’t even his idea in the first place. He didn’t move though.
“Grow a pair and get on with it, John,” Ada snapped him out of the trance he once again fell into, still grinning at the fact that John was very much acting like a lovesick fool at the moment. In fact she hadn’t seem him like this since…well since he was around (Y/N).
With one last glare, John finally heeded to their nudges and started off in (Y/N)’s direction. Her back was to him as he approached, and she was dancing with his eldest son, Johnny. His daughters, Jane and Katie, did see him coming though, their eyes lighting up when they realized he was there.
“Daddy!” they exclaimed in unison.
The yelling of the girls made (Y/N) stop what she was doing and turn. Seeing the person who they’d addressed made the breath get caught in her throat. No. It can’t be, she thought to herself, her heartrate quickening by the second.
John was - also - back to staring again. He still couldn’t believe that she was standing right in front of him.
“Dad…dad, did you hear me?” the sound of Katie’s impatient voice brought him back to reality. He focused in on his daughter as he heard the sweet sounds of (Y/N)’s giggles. They made it feel like there was heat being placed on the back of his neck.
“I…I didn’t, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he sheepishly answered his child.
“I was telling you that this is (Y/N). She found Johnny and then agreed to stay and dance with us. She’s really nice,” Katie explained again.
Her being referred to gave John the go ahead to look at (Y/N) again. This time he willed himself to stay focused and not get lost in the memories they shared together, or how beautiful she looked.
“She helped me because I was crying and didn’t know where anyone was,” Johnny shared, “she’s really friendly. I think we could all be friends.”
John couldn’t help but chuckle a little as he watched (Y/N) stiffle her laugh. “Yeah, Johnny, I, uh…I—” God you look like a babbling fool right now, get ahold on yourself, John-boy, was ringing out in John’s mind.
(Y/N) watched him intently, waiting to hear how he would address the past between them. Would he address the past between them?
“I used to know (Y/N)…we used to be best friends when we was younger,” he finally shared with the children, feeling silly for holding his breath as he waited for their response.
There was a moment’s pause as the three little Shelbys looked at each other. It felt like eternity to the two adults, who looked as if they wanted to say so much to each other. Soon smiles formed on the children’s faces.
“That’s great that you’re already friends with her, daddy!” Katie exclaimed, beaming up at John.
“When can she come over?” Jane eagerly asked, her question making (Y/N) laugh as her heart bursted with love.
“That’ll be up to her,” John answered, laughing at his childrens innocent questions, the heat still creeping up his neck.
“Your father and I will have to talk about it,” (Y/N) added her own response, a sweet smile present on her features. She then looked at John, her expression telling him that they’d have to find each other later to catch up.
“Please talk about it later, daddy!” Johnny exclaimed, a pleading look present on his face.
“I will, Johnny, I will,” he assured the boy, nodding both to him and to (Y/N), silently accepting her invitation.
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(Y/N) was resting against one of the balconies on the side terrace of the manor later that evening when she heard footsteps approaching her. She didn’t bother to turn and look; having a good idea of who could be coming.
“You followed through with the invitation,” she commented as John came to a rest beside her.
“Always do, angel,” John responded, his usage of her old nickname making her heart flutter.
It was one that he frequently used when they were younger…she was always doing the right thing; always acting like an angel. John loved to call her it in a teasing manner and though she’d wrinkle her nose up when he used it, she secretly loved it. Tonight, however, he used it in a sincere manner, and it just about made (Y/N) weak at the knees.
“You don’t know how surprised I was when I saw you with me kids,” John admitted then, looking out at the grounds his brother owned.
“The surprise was pretty clear on your face, John,” (Y/N) responded, giggling as his eyes shot to match hers; wide in surprise.
“Never was good at hiding stuff from you,” he said in a sheepish tone, shaking his head. “How’d you find out about this?” he asked then.
“Ada found out I was back in town. She invited me,” she answered. John made a mental note to thank his sister later. “It was nice meeting your kids,” she said with a smile.
“They’ll probably talk about you for days,” he said with a laugh, looking away from her for a moment. “Only good things I’ve left,” he mused, his tone sounded solemn.
Silence fell between them as (Y/N) chewed on her bottom lip, wondering if she should offer her condolences or not. She didn’t know if the wounds were still fresh, or when it had even happened. “I’m sorry about Martha, John,” she finally said.
“I am, too,” he responded, looking down at his feet as he took a deep breath, “feel bad for those kids most of all. They didn’t really even get to know her.”
“That must’ve been tough,” (Y/N) mused.
“It was…” John agreed, “it has been,” he then corrected.
“I’m home now, so I’m…”
“You’re home?” John cut into her statement, his eyes widening as they found hers again.
“I am,” she affirmed, smiling softly before continuing, “I’d be happy to help you with your kids if you need at all.”
John smiled as he heard what she said. He couldn’t lie, he was suprised by how gracious she was being. There were a thousand words he wanted to say, but all he was able to get out was: “thank you, (Y/N).”
For her, it was enough.
Silence fell between them once again as (Y/N) wrestled with yet another thought; one that she’d been wanting to say since he joined her outside. After a few moments, she finally took the leap and said it.
“You know, I always thought we’d end up together…I always thought that it’d be us,” she made sure to train her eyes on the darkened landscape as she spoke. She couldn’t handle seeing John’s expression as it changed.
“I…” John hesitated.
“That wasn’t me trying to insert myself into anything. I’m sorry if it sounded that way,” she scrambled to cover up, not even thinking of how he could have taken her admission. “I just…I wanted that to be known. I spent too long dancing around it without saying what I felt,” she took a deep breath, debating on whether to add anything more. There was one more thing she was burning to say, “I had-have a lot of love for you, John.”
It took a few moments for him to digest what she had said. Never did he think that she’d be admitting these feelings to him. He always thought that he’d have to keep his boxed away for the rest of his life. But now she’d put hers out in the open, it would be silly of him to withhold his.
“Hey,” he started, wanting to get her to look at him before he shared his confession. His one word statement succeeded in getting her eyes to match his. “I’ve always loved you, (Y/N),” he admitted, his voice holding a sincereness he hadn’t used in a while.
“You’re being serious?” she asked, the corners of her lips twitching as she wanted to smile so big right now.
“So serious,” he whispered, smiling as he spoke.
“I…” she paused to let out a laugh, feeling so silly for what she was about to admit to him, “I really wanna kiss you right now, John Shelby.”
“Then kiss me, (Y/N),” he wasted no time in agreeing to what she was suggesting, slowly moving to rest his hands on her waist. He was gentle in his touch, silently letting her know that she could break away if she wanted. She didn’t.
(Y/N) reached to take hold of his jacket’s lapels before leaning in slightly. John got the message, meeting her halfway so that their lips could—finally— meet. The — what felt like — lifetime’s wait for this moment was most certainly worth it.
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— Three Years Later —
“Katie!” (Y/N) called out, knowing that the eldest child was in the next room over. Her joyful scream was a distinctive one, and the woman was able to hear it amongst at least two others. It didn’t take long before the girl appeared in the archway of the room John and (Y/N) were sitting in.
“Yes?” she asked, trying to catch her breath. It was obvious that she’d been playing.
“I need you and your siblings to try and keep your voices down, ok?” (Y/N) kindly asked.
“Why’s that, mum?” the young girl inquired.
(Y/N) froze before she could give her answer, her mouth agape. Katie had just called her ‘mum’.
Thankfully John was able to step in and continue the conversation—because it had became obvious to him that (Y/N) couldn’t. “Because mum’s just gotten Ella to sleep. We don’t want her to wake again,” he explained, motioning to the baby that was sleeping on (Y/N)’s chest.
“Ok, dad,” Katie conceded without a fight. Both John and (Y/N) gave a soft thanks and watched as she went to leave. She’d only moved from the arch for a second before returning to say one last thing, “you should know that it’s really Max who was making all of the noise.”
Her statement made both adults laugh. “Go on,” John waved her off. The girl gave one more toothy smile before running off to her siblings.
“Did she…?” (Y/N) finally got out, surprise laced into her words.
“She did,” John grinned as he looked at his wife, “mum.”
It may have seemed like nothing special to someone looking on, but to (Y/N), what just happened was monumental. This was the first time Katie Shelby had called her mum.
(Y/N) and John hardly spent a moment separated since the night they rekindled their friendship…which quickly turned into a relationship…which quickly turned into them getting married and having a child together.
With their dear little Eloise being born just five months ago, both felt that their family was now perfect. But even though (Y/N) took on the role of mother to John’s four children in every sense of the term, she never forced the kids to address her by the name. Martha was their mum, and not even her being gone could change that.
One by one, though, the kids began calling her mum. Katie was the last to hold out. The eldest girl would always address her as ‘(Y/N)’, and (Y/N) was perfectly fine with that. Which is why when the girl used the ‘m-word’ just now, she froze in her tracks. She couldn’t help but blush as she looked at John, who was grinning like a fool.
“She called me mum,” she whispered again, more to herself than anything.
“She did,” John repeated, his voice soft as he smiled at his wife.
If it’s meant to be, it’ll be is the phrase that always gets thrown around. Luckily — thankfully — for John and (Y/N), it was meant to be.
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MASTERLIST
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Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing
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kitchenisking · 1 day ago
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November Fic Rec
Don't Be Cocky by Spindiver - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 14,570, sterek)
For reasons, Derek wants to get a Prince Albert piercing. The only shop in town belongs to Stiles Stilinski. Who knew that Derek's life of lonely isolation was about to get a proper shake-up?
“Hey”, he says, in greeting, “what can I help you with, this morning?”
Given the man’s size and somewhat surly demeanour, Stiles is not expecting the voice of the giant to be so measured and polite.
“My name’s Derek Hale, I have an appointment booked for 11 o’clock.”
“Right”, says Stiles, coming out from behind the counter, he gestures towards his workspace, one of three rooms off the lobby of the shop.
“Come on through, my name’s Stiles, I run this place. I have to confess, the appointment book didn’t say what you were after.” He raises an eyebrow at the man, now sitting gingerly on the padded worktable in the middle of the room. He’s starting to look ever so slightly uncomfortable.
“Oh, I um…I’m looking to get a Prince Albert”, he mumbles
In from the Cold by frek, sova  - (Rating: T, Words: 1,279, sterek)
He's soaked to the bone and there are things he wants to say.
breakfast in bed by Winchesterek - (Rating: G, Words: 846, sterek)
Stiles stretched in bed, sighing softly as his muscles relaxed and his bones cracked like an ancient mummy moving for the first time in centuries.
He smiled as he smelled the delicious scent of bacon wafting in from the kitchen, hearing the constant chatter of Elijah talking away about nothing and everything at the same time, Derek’s soft tones assuring their son that he was listening when Elijah asked if he was paying attention.
breakfast in bed by Winchesterek - (Rating: G, Words: 2,119, sterek)
…the one where Derek confessed his feelings for Stiles.
The Happiest of All by Hedwig221b - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 32,580, sterek)
“It’s every wolf’s dream. To find a perfect mate, to procreate. It’s a necessity, it’s healthy. It’s in our blood; akin to the moon in the sky, a wolf belongs to their mate. And humans don’t have the capacity to become a mate.”
“But I love him,” Stiles whispered, begged.
Talia stayed silent for a couple of minutes.
“That’s why you should understand it’s not healthy for him to be with you,” her words were simple and clear, like a piece of glass, but sharp all the same. “He will not find true happiness with you. You’re wasting his time. Preventing him from having a future he deserves.”
You're My Sanctuary by lilmissdaydreamer - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 33,467, sterek)
The Argent Wolf Sanctuary. It’s been Stiles’ dream since he was five years old to work with the wolves, ever since his mother took him up there to see the magnificent creatures on one of their ‘full moon runs’ that the Sanctuary does once a month. The wolves are beautiful and much larger than Stiles would’ve thought, or at least, the newest wolf is. The owner had said he’s a special breed. 
Stiles just didn’t realize quite how special he is.
Keep You Tonight by TheRomantics - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,469, sterek)
“I don’t think you really want me to get off of you.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because you’re holding onto me, dumbass.”
-
Derek needs to go to work, but it’s hard to do with a grumpy little human in his lap.
No Brainer by youtwomakeagoodpair - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 12,641, sterek)
So it just is a no fucking brainer, of course this thing where Derek hides out in his room will lead to… embarrassing revelations about Stiles. Cause Derek is a snoopy snooper. Or maybe Stiles just made him try on shirts in front of Danny and didn’t think about the things he was hiding in his clothes drawers. Like the bottom drawer, and it’s lacy and silky contents. Which Derek fucking Hale was bound to see when looking through Stiles’ clothing. And Stiles being the scatterbrain he is, did not think about it in the moment. When Derek is out of his room later and Stiles goes over to clean up the clothes, he sees the lingerie drawer fully open and a pair of pink lacy panties lying on top of it all.
Choice by lizlybear - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,931, sterek)
Derek makes a choice, Stiles doesn't agree.
The One That Got Away by alikatastic - (Rating: T, Words: 9,261, sterek)
Derek didn’t get the memo about kids purposely doing things to spite their parents. The first time Eli put on a plaid shirt over a graphic tee and Derek got a constipated look on his face and tried to convince him to choose a different shirt, Eli went out and bought a heap more and exclusively wore plaid from then on. Every time Derek told him a story from his past and Eli remarked on how Stiles was “badass” and “the main hero”, Derek tried to emphasize how annoying Stiles actually was and to NOT pull any stunts like that, Eli started getting in trouble at school for pulling stunts just like them. Derek tried really hard not to overreact the first time Eli stole the jeep but… his son was wearing plaid, saying ‘dude’ and recklessly driving the goddamn jeep, for gods sake! Derek did NOT need all these reminders of “the one that got away”.
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emotionalsupport-ljh · 1 day ago
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Whelmed 🩷
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Even Jihoon needs to be taken care of sometimes.
Fluff - woozi x gn!reader
Maybe I'm projecting jussssst a lil bit. Anyway, Happy Birth Month, my precious, precious boy!!
AO3 link
Word Count: 2.5k
CW: crying, meltdown, a lil hurt/comfort, jihoon is stressed and needs maximum comfort
₊˚⊹ 🩷🩷🩷꒰.^₃^꒱☆⋆。
You walk into the Universe Factory and the first thing you see is Jihoon laying face down on the couch. It’s silent in the room, which is incredibly rare, except for the sounds of heavy breathing and sniffles. You walk slowly toward the couch and plop down on the edge of it. Jihoon makes some room for you without lifting his face. Your hand finds his back to start rubbing it comfortingly.
“Want to talk about it?” you ask, your voice softly above a whisper.
“I got really overwhelmed.” Jihoon’s small voice is muffled by the cushions of the seat. He finally turns around to face you, now laying on his back. His nose and eyes are tinged red, and his face is slightly shining from a few tears left there. He’s been done crying for a while. He looks and feels small, however, and moves your hand to pat his tummy, still craving your touch.
“That’s okay. Want to go to my place to get whelmed?” you offer.
Jihoon lets out a laugh, a smile finally appearing on his face. “Is that even a word?”
“I don’t know, but my offer still stands.” You lift an eyebrow to him and return the smile.
He takes a deep breath and exhales an “Okay.” 
You begin to stand up and take a moment to look out of the window. The sun just went down. It’s still early in the night, however, since Jihoon usually ends his work past midnight. Only special circumstances like dinner plans or events get him to call it quits early, and even then, he just ends up back in the studio, producing away. Tonight is an extremely rare circumstance. One in which work stops because it absolutely has to or it will destroy the boy’s mind. It’s only ever happened one other time since you two started dating. You’re ready for it much better this time, knowing all he wants is to be taken care of and to not have to think about anything.
You wait for Jihoon to stand up and follow your lead, but that doesn’t happen. Instead, he puffs out his cheeks and reaches up for you, wanting you to lift him to his feet. He looks insanely adorable, even if there are still the dying embers of a meltdown still glowing on his face. You grab his hands and pull him up to a seated position then finally up to his feet. You are determined to make him feel better tonight, any way you can. 
“Carry me,” he pouts. 
You giggle at the suggestion, knowing exactly how he feels. “I would if I could.” You continue to keep the mood really light and joking as you leave the building and walk to your apartment building. You carry Jihoon’s bag for him, and he pays for some snacks at a convenience store. 
Once you make it into your apartment, you both immediately change into your fluffiest, comfiest clothes. Jihoon sits comfortably on the couch, picking something to watch while you make popcorn and pour your drinks into cute mason jars. You each picked out some candy to share and an ice cream treat to store in the freezer for later, as well. You come to the living room and set down the popcorn bowl and drinks and find Jihoon with his eyebrows furrowed as he scrolls through every streaming platform there is, trying to find something suitable.
“This is impossible,” he huffs.
“What are you looking for?” you plop next to him and throw a piece of popcorn into your mouth.
“I don’t know. Something good.” His response isn’t very elaborate.
“A K-Drama?” you ask.
“No, I want something I don’t have to think too hard about.”
“Then what about a kids’ cartoon? Like Bluey,” you suggest.
“No, no. I’m not in the mood for something for kids.” He sticks out his tongue while he scrolls. His cuteness is going to send you into an overload. Usually, he takes charge of things and lets you be the cute one. When he gets like this, it’s such a special sight for you to take in all the softness he locks away behind his more serious personality.
You are just happy to be next to him, watching him go through each genre until something strikes him. You kind of zone out merrily, until you hear slight groaning next to you. Jihoon’s face is twisted up in frustration. He’s getting overwhelmed again and fusses over the TV remote.
“I can’t choose,” he says, voice choking up a little bit.
You take the initiative to place your hand on his and gently set the remote down on the coffee table. You place your other hand on his cheek and turn him to face you. You smile and kiss his nose while softly assuring, “It’s okay. They give way too many options, right? If you want, I can pick, okay?”
Jihoon’s hand intertwines with yours, grabbing at your fingers and rubbing your palms. He nods and breathes, calming down more and more. You turn your attention to the TV and select a shojo anime you both have seen about a million times and restart it from the first episode. The tension you both were once holding onto in your shoulders finally relaxes as you both sit back and watch the opening credits. 
“Oh! I almost forgot!” you say as you jolt up from your seat and walk toward your bedroom. “Be right back.” 
Jihoon follows you with eyes wide until you disappear into your room. He’s curious why you’ve run off and how long your errand will take. Not long, apparently, as you reappear within a minute holding velvet soft plushies for you both to cuddle. You return to your seat and settle into the back cushion of the couch placing a cat plushie in Jihoon’s arms. You place a bear plushie on the opposite side of you and let Jihoon settle into your outstretched arm, laying his head on your chest. It’s a position you usually take when you watch TV together, and you are glad he finds your chest as comfortable and secure as you find his.
The popcorn disappears about a quarter of the way into the second episode. You didn’t realize how hungry you were. You sit idly watching the cute female protagonist miss all the cues that the people around her are instantly infatuated with her. You try to focus on the cute little plot, but you are interrupted by a small growling sound.
You look at Jihoon then to his stomach then back to his face. His eyes are wide, and his face is red. You laugh quietly, “Ready for candy?”
“Actually, can we make ramen? I’m hungry for more than snacks.” 
“Of course, coming right up!” you say as you get up to move to the kitchen. It’s a little surprising when footsteps follow. “You want to help?” you question your sudden shadow.
Jihoon nods his head silently. For what it’s worth, he does fill a pot with water while you find a few packs of ramen. While the water boils, however, his version of helping beyond that is just to stand behind you with his arms around your waist, laying his head on your back. This kind of white noise is your favorite. Nothing but low TV chatter from the characters in a sweet shojo, the sound of water boiling, and soft breathing. You’re relaxed and hope that Jihoon feels the same way. You want him to decompress and let go of all the stress of the day. You know that eventually, he will have to talk about it to process it though. For now, you stir the pot with long chopsticks making sure the noodles are not too hard and not too soft.
You bring the pot and two pairs of chopsticks to the coffee table, making sure to put it on a heat resistant mat. Jihoon’s arms remain around you as he shuffles along with you every step of the way. With a huff, he finally lets you go as he sits back on the couch, but he does wait for you with open arms.
“Do you want me to feed you, too?” you laugh as you settle in next to him. He’s a little clingy, but it’s rare to see him so dependent on anyone else. In these small moments, you indulge him and genuinely do wish you could do everything for him so that he doesn’t have to think, or overthink, about it.
“No! I can eat by myself,” he responds, flustered. He grabs the chopsticks and takes mouthfuls of ramen. You let him fill up a bit first and swoop in for your share when he’s had his fill. The ramen disappears, and so do all of the treats while the anime plays comfortingly in the background. Jihoon is snuggled up with his head leaning against you, and you notice his eyes drooping heavier and heavier.
Before he completely knocks out, you get his attention, “Hey,” you start softly, “want to start getting ready for bed?”
Jihoon slowly lifts his head and nods while rubbing his eyes. Sometimes he reminds you of a sweet little kitten with the way he pouts with his pink lips. You kiss him before standing up and bringing him to stand with you. He grabs both of the fluffy companions from the couch, then he follows you like a little duck to the bedroom. You both breeze through your nightly routine. Jihoon is in bed with his arms out, again, waiting for you to join him.
“Wait here, I’m going to clean up the living room a little bit,” you say and turn for the door.
He pouts, “But I want you here.”
“I know, and I will be. Just let me take care of the dishes really fast.”
“I’ll help.” He begins to move the blanket covering him, disrupting the position of his new friend, the cat plushie.
“No, stay there. I got it. Just wait a bit, okay?” You smile at him reassuringly. He huffs and finally relents. You take care of the small mess left behind and muse on the way Jihoon has been acting. His clinginess getting the best of him was a sign. He was much more bothered than you originally thought. It is very cute and refreshing to see him get all needy. It reminds you that he needs you just like how you need him. He doesn’t say it all that often, but when you can feel it, feel that he needs you, it just solidifies your feelings for him even more.
But there is still something else. Something he’s not asking for, distracting himself with hugs and kisses so he’ll feel better without confronting what’s really going on. You hope it isn’t something he’s had to endure for a long time. He’s prone to do that, to endure alone and not let anyone help him. He thinks he can handle it himself without bothering anyone. He doesn’t understand that it’s not a bother. You resolve to talk about it with him no matter what. No matter how cute and sweet he’ll act when you get back to him.
With everything cleaned and your mind made up, you enter the bedroom again and are met with those same open arms. You settle into your spot, getting all comfortable. You turn in on Jihoon, and he rotates without hesitation until his back is against your chest. You enjoy the smell of his shampoo and lay a soft kiss to the back of his head. You wrap your arms around him tight and he holds on to them for dear life. It almost makes you feel bad that you have to make him a little uncomfortable, but it will help him sleep at night. You just lay there, breathing in sync, then you take a deep breath which disrupts the rhythm you have going with Jihoon.
“Hey,” you ease into the difficult conversation, “I know today was hard for you. I was just wondering… what happened?”
Jihoon buries his face in his pillow, “I don’t want to think about it.”
“I know, I know.” You stroke his hand, hoping to bring some comfort to his stressed out mind. “Talking about it will help you get through it, though. Can’t avoid it forever. It’ll come back to bite you.” You emphasize your words by pinching his arm in a playful attack. It lightens the mood a little and provokes a giggle to rise out of Jihoon.
“It’s just…” Jihoon begins cautiously, “my job can be stressful. It’s already hard enough to meet everyone else’s standards. When I can’t even meet my own, I feel… useless.”
You rub gentle circles on Jihoon’s arms and hands as he talks. You listen and understand how he’s feeling. He’s always been a type-A perfectionist since you’ve known him. It’s kind of stupid, but sometimes you let yourself think that his talent means that nothing is hard for him; he just does so well all the time and then acts as if it’s not a big deal. Of course, it sometimes is a big deal. He always burns so hot and bright for a long time, but even stars burn out eventually. This is the burnout; an increasingly frustrating time that leads to being so overwhelmed he cries alone in the Universe Factory. It’s a good thing that he’s not alone right now, though.
“You’re not useless; you just need some help. I know you’ll figure it out because you are a musical genius,” you respond. Your breath tickles his ear as you speak.
“You know I hate that word. ‘Genius’. A genius should be able to do it without help.” His voice starts cracking, and your heart breaks a little hearing it.
“No, no. It’s not easy being so smart. You’re the one that has to make the smart decisions. Being stupid is easy because the easy decision is to give up. It’s hard to keep going. Once you figure it out, that is what makes you a genius. I know you are smart enough to keep going and to figure it out. You can start by making the smart decision to reach out for some help on this.” You feel Jihoon relax in your arms, tension melting away from his shoulders. Your words reached him.
“I’ve never thought of it like that.” His voice is even again. You can’t see the look on his face, but you can tell he’s having a revelation. “I think I’m whelmed, now. Thank you,” he says simply. He moves to reveal his face. The tears that were once welling in his heart have disappeared. They don’t get to fall tonight.
“I’m glad,” you tilt his face toward you and capture his lips in a kiss. You settle once again into the spoon, somehow more comfortable than before. Jihoon falls asleep with a blissful slight smile on his face.
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