#i just hold her and stare at her all day long
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sugar, sugar | v.a
summary: on a slow day at your grandmotherâs bakery, a customer captures your attention. as the weeks pass, you see her pop up more and more. a gentle friendship ignites between the two of you. the only issue was the undeniable attraction to her and it didnât help now having to do her a kind favor. it would go awayâŚ. right?
pairing: fem!reader x vi arcane
contains: modern!au, kick-boxer!vi, reader is described to have long enough hair to tie up, reader has a sister named mila, we love gram, vander, isha and jinx mentions <3, nothing but fluff, strangers to friends to lovers:)
word count: 3.5K
a/n: i seriously had so much fun writing this and i am excited to dig into a mini-series with vi. i hope everyone enjoys this as much as i do </3
â ONE
Running your grandmotherâs bakery wasnât easy but it was a light in your life. She taught you tips and tricks of working the large industrial oven, every single one of her recipes, and wiping down the chalkboard to write the specials for the delicious treats.
She was charm personified; somehow able to convince pretty much every person that walked to the pastry shop to try at least one item. You were on the more quiet side, not insanely secluded but you werenât extroverted. Nice people cracked you open and next thing you knew it, you were shoving a donut into their palms to take home.
It was a bad habit.
It was a slow Thursday in November. You were sweeping the small area of seating, softly asking one of the usual college students that came if they needed anything else. You were just a few streets down from the community college so many people your age would come in for coffee and furiously type on their laptops.
Once you were told they were good for now, you excuse yourself back to behind the counter to adjust the display desserts. You were bent over when you heard the bell over the door echo within the space, shouting âwelcome inâ.
âIf you have any questions, just let me know. We have a daily special which is on the blackboard,â you stood back up with a slight grunt from the rush, brushing a few flyaways to kindly smile at the new customer. âToday we have buy one, get one donut free.â
Your eyes slightly widen at the⌠attractiveness of the customer. You adjust the neckline of your soft brown cable knit sweater to tug out your necklaces, plastering on a friendly smile.
âI actually came in because I was curious about the sign,â she trails off, tilting her head as she shoves her hands into the pockets of her jacket. âDo you actually just let people smell the food?â
You let out a soft chuckle as you nod. Your grandfather, one of the only men who had ever tolerated, made the sign for your grandmother the second she mentioned it to him. Now, in all its carved glory âFree Smells!â is hanging underneath the shop's main sign: Sweet Tooth Bakery + Cafe.
âYeah, my grandma thought itâd be a funny sign to draw people in. Obviously, we donât let them shove their nose into it or anything,â you shake your head, holding your hand out to the stranger. âBecause thatâs⌠unsanitary.â
The pink haired stranger nods with a soft chuckle, stepping back to check out the arrangement of treats in the display case. In that moment of silence, you, as discreetly as possible, check her out. She had on a navy blue cut off sleeve zip-up, a soft white tank top underneath and a pair of grey sweatpants hugging her lower half. Very simplistic outfit but she made it look good.
You think she just naturally looked good. If you stared for long enough, which you embarrassingly did so, you could see markings of ink on the side of her neck and following down the backs of her arms and the smallest etching on her cheek.
âAny suggestions on what to smell first?â She questions, curious eyes bouncing back up to you.
You hum to yourself as you, too, stagger your eyes from pastry to pastry to carefully choose which one you could have her smell.
âAre you a fan of blueberries?â You question with a beaming grin.
âUh, sure, yeah. Blueberries are good.â
âThen you have to take a whiff of the blueberry danish. Itâs one of my favorites.â You offer, pointing to the sweet treat.
The pink haired stranger leans forward, folding her bare arms across her chest. You, again, canât help your stares as you try to figure out what was exactly dotted into her pale skin. She nods with a shrug, looking at you with a kind smile.
âIâll give it a whiff, yeah,â she stepped forward so that the glass of the display case was the only obstacle between the two of you.
You can feel your face getting hot as you mutter a bright âokayâ to yourself. You bend over once again grab the metal tongs to pick out the danish to place on a ceramic plate. You place it on top of the display case, motioning for the stranger to give it a smell.
Still seeming a bit hesitant that you were playing a joke on her, she leans her face forward so that she is mere centimeters away from the pastry. She inhales a bit, letting out a long sigh as she leans back to look at you.
âShit, that smells amazing,â she praises the sweet aroma, nodding in satisfaction. âIâll take it.â
You blink at her before chuckling awkwardly.
âYou donât have to buy the ones you smell. I promise.â You reassure her as you attempt to put the danish back so that you can shove the cranberry-orange muffin in her face.
Sheâs quick to hold a palm out to stop you, shaking her head. A beautiful smile spreads on her lips, temporarily forgetting how eager you were to show her every single pastry on display.
âI want that one. I swear. Plus, my sisterâs going to rush me out of here if I take too long.â
A part of you was disappointed that she was so quick to purchase the first, yet incredibly delicious, treat. You selfishly wanted her to stay for as long as possible. Your grandmother would be on your ass for being so distracted by an attractive customer.
She would give you a clap on the back for making a sale, though.
âOh, okay. Did your sister want anything?â You offer, itching to find any way possible for her to stay just a bit longer.
The stranger hums to herself for a moment as she examines the rest of the delicious treats. You tilt your head as you grab a small brown paper bag to place the danish into, waiting patiently to see if she was going to pick another item.
To your delighted surprise, she nods as she points to a more simplistic pastry.
âI think this pink donut should be good,â she nods to show certainty.
You grasp onto the sweet treat to slide it into the bag with her danish, trying not to spill a lot of the sprinkles. You seal it closed with a custom sticker with the logo of the shop, typing up her total into the register. The stranger reaches into her sweatpants pocket to pull out her wallet.
âYour total is gonna be $7.89. Cash or card?â You question.
âCard.â
You watch her hand you a simple light blue credit card, grinning as you not-so-discreetly check out her full name on it. Her first name caught your attention. Violet. As you swipe her card, you clear your throat to work up the courage to give her a compliment.
âI love your name. Itâs pretty,â you say as you hand her back the card.
The stranger, now known as Violet, smiles small at your words. Her long fingers take the card from you as she slides it back into her wallet.
âThank you. My, uh, dad named me,â she grins at you.
âWell, he made a very good choice,â you hand her the bag as well, nodding as you try not to appear awkward. âAnything else I can get for you?â
Were you being weird?
âNo, no, Iâm good,â she chuckles as she crinkles the bag in her palms. âIâll see you around, yeah?â
You nod as you hand her own copy of the receipt, holding onto the half second of the tip of her fingers brushing against yours. You watch her turn her back and leave the shop, eyes never leaving her sculpted back profile. You huff at your behavior once the bell from above the door snaps you out of your small trance, shoving your copy of the receipt into its designated spot.
âSheâs cute,â you hear from behind you, causing you to jump and whip your head around.
Youâre met with your grandma grinning evilly at you, a little bit of flour smudged on her cheek from her baking in the back.
âGram,â you sigh as you shake your head, brushing away your loose hairs.
âIâm just saying, bug,â she walks up next to you to rub up and down your arm.
You blush at what she was insinuating. As much as you love your grandmother, she attempted to be your match maker like you were an introverted middle schooler. You were 22 for God's sake. You would make moves and flirt when you felt like it.
âDonât you have something in the oven?â You raise your eyebrows at her, hoping sheâd leave it alone.
âHey. I could fire you, you know,â your grandma pointed a finger in your face accusingly but her tone was light and a cheeky grin was on her face.
You roll your eyes playfully as you softly bump your hip with hers.
Everyday since Violet came in, you perk at the sound of the bell hoping to see that head of pink hair waltzing in again. Two excruciatingly long weeks pass before you see Violet again.
What was disappointing about seeing her today of all days was that you were working this shift with your 17 year old sister who was⌠less than thrilled to be working now; especially with you being her superior in a workplace. She, like most teenagers, was yearning to be more independent which meant constantly disregarding your instructions on what to do at work.
You were irritated beyond belief with her constantly arguing with you. You couldnât even really fully pay attention as Mila smacked your arm with the rag. When you saw her from outside the shop, this time around she came with company. You were in the midst of a bicker with her because she didnât wipe down a table like you had told her to when you saw Violet coming in with a little girl walking beside her.
You gasp at her childish antics, pinching her arm but then shushing her as you tight-lipped smile at Violet as she approaches the familiar display case. You try not to frown at the sight of her bandaged nose and small bruise sitting right on the apple of her cheek. Her outfit is similar from the last time you saw her except a simple oil-black hoodie with those same joggers. You even saw a bit of wrapped bandages on her hands peeking out from the sleeves.
Was she jumped or something?
âThere are only, like, two people here and theyâre sitting outside,â your sister whisper-shouts at you, plastering on a fake smile at the new customers. âHi! Welcome in.â
Violet glances at Mila when she straightens her back, placing a gentle hand on the back of the childâs back to guide her to the display of new and fresh treats for the day. She places her little hands on the glass as she very eagerly bounces on the soles of her worn in dark blue tennis shoes.
âHi! Violet, youâre back.â You turn to your sister and sneer quietly. âClean the tables. Now, please.â
Mila gives Violet a once-over and you a narrow glare as she grumbles a âfineâ as she rounds the corner to go and wipe down the crumb and dust filled tables.
âHey. You can call me Vi, by the way. I, uh, was with my sister for the day and she wanted to try this place. I gave her some of my danish and she went crazy.â Violet motioned to the child just a few feet below her, chuckling at her gazing hungrily at the sweets.
âWell, Vi, Iâm glad to hear,â you lean your head to the side to get a good look at her sister.
She had a wild head of short waves, a small gap in between her two front teeth. Her outfit made her ten times more adorable; a plain white Henley long sleeve with a pair of overalls. Her big hazel eyes stared at you patiently.
âHi, cutie. Do you see one that you like?â You question her with a friendly smile.
Her adorable face scrunches up in thought, stepping back to look at her choices. She turns her head to her older sister before pointing at a strawberry muffin and raising her hands to sign what you believe is ASL. You curse yourself for not knowing what she was telling the pink haired stranger.
âShe wants to smell the strawberry muffin,â Vi chuckles. âI told her about how you let me smell my danish first before buying it.â
âOkay, I can do that for you. Whatâs her name?â You question, hoping it didnât come off as offensive.
âIsha. She doesnât talk much,â Vi raised a bandaged hand to settle on her light brown waves on her head, ruffling the strands.
âWell, Miss Isha,â you focus your attention on her once again, watching her bounce on the balls on her feet with excitement. You grab your trusty metal tongs to grab the muffin and place it on a soft blue ceramic plate to set it down on the counter area of your register set-up for her to smell. âHere you go. Let me know if you want to smell anything else.â
Your heart grows tenfold as Vi quietly tells Isha to not shove her nose into the muffin, smiling at her sister as she hovers close to the pastry.
âIs she the one who ate the pink donut?â You turn your attention to Vi, raising your brows as you adjust your flyaways from your bubble braid.
Pretty blue eyes flickering to yours, her brows twitch as if she was shocked that you remembered such a minuscule detail.
âNo, that was my other sister,â she shakes her head. âIsha was actually very angry with me when I came home with no cupcakes or muffins for her so Iâm making it up to her.â
You watch her scrunch up her bruised bridge of her nose for a second as Isha signs something else to her. Vi playfully rolls her eyes with a sigh as she turns to you with another wince.
âCan she eat this now? She has an impatient appetite.â
You chuckle with a nod as you hand the plate to her, muttering a âcareful, sweetieâ to Isha who beams up at you. She scurries over to a small round table to hop up on the seat to divulge. Now that it was just you and Vi standing in front of each other.
âHey, are you okay?â You ask softly, eyes flicking to each injury on her gorgeous face.
Confused about your concern for her, her brows furrow for a moment. You watch her turn around to make sure Isha was all good, hounding down the muffin with crumbs falling from her mouth to the ground.
âOh, yeah,â Vi shook her head, waving at you off as she grins sweetly. âI work at a kick-boxing studio and some of the kids can get aggressive. Iâm okay, though, trust me. Iâve taken more than a few hits to the head.â
That explains the injuries and the bandaged hands. Of course, she was a kick-boxer. Her physique gave that away but what did you know? Isha was distracted with her muffin so you were able to converse with her, get to know her a little more so your gram would stop asking you if that cute pink haired girl came in again.
âReally? Where at?â You hum.
âItâs like fifteen minutes from here. Why? You want to come see kids beat me up?â She teases, folding her arms over her chest.
You hum with a nod, walking around the counter to place a napkin on the table so Isha could wipe her face to be rid of the sticky crumbs on her face. âYeah, thatâs exactly why. Because Iâm a masochist.â
An actual laugh left her plush lips as she shook her head, eyes following you as you face her now. If Gram could see you now. Well, she was probably watching you from the security cameras in the back room with an evil smile.
âYou know, I meant to ask. Do you make custom cakes?â Vi leans back to rest her lower back on the countertop where your register was, crossing her legs and shoving her hands into the pocket of her hoodie.
She really just looks like that, you thought to yourself.
âWe do, yeah. Is your birthday coming up?â You look at her with raised brows.
Vi shakes her head, pointing to the little girl behind you. âNo. Her birthday is next week and my family is throwing her a zoo themed birthday party.â
You awe out loud at the thought.
âThatâs so cute. Yeah, I canâ I mean, we can do that,â you shake your head as you correct yourself, hoping she didnât catch your desperate slip-up.
Isha stands up from her table, dusting off the crumbs from her overalls. She walks over to you to hand you the plate, signing âthank youâ to you. You pause for a moment before hesitantly signing back âyouâre welcomeâ slowly, not sure if you were doing it right. You knew the basics but werenât extremely educated on ASL. After today, though, you were determined to brush up on it.
Isha eyes brighten at you signing back to her. She turns to Vi with a smile so wide, you swore her cheeks would split open. She nods down at Isha, ruffling her hair once again as she reaches for her pocket to retrieve her wallet.
âShit, sorry, how much do I owe you for the muffin?â Vi shuffles through the bills in her wallet.
âNo, no. Youâre⌠good. Donât worry about it.â You wave her off, shaking your head.
Vi pauses before scoffing, attempting to shove the money into your palms. âIâm paying for the muffin.â
âSeriously. Itâs one muffin, Vi. Plus, a little early birthday present for Isha.â You shove the bills into her hands once again, gripping onto her hands to make sure she doesnât try to give them back.
Vi glances down at your gentle hands around hers. Reluctantly taking the money back, she takes the bills before shoving them back into the crease of her wallet. You try not to focus on how slightly bigger her hands were from yours; how surprisingly soft her knuckles were.
Isha seems to become impatient now with her elder sister, reaching up to tug on two of her fingers. Vi nods down to her, muttering a soft âokay, okayâ.
âThank you for that, by the way. And if it's not too much trouble for you, cupcake, can I get your number?â Vi questions as she takes Ishaâs hand in hers. âYou know, for any questions about what the cake should look like and what flavor it could be.â
Your brows furrow at her words before nodding, pursing your lips to repress the smile creeping onto your face. Cupcake. You like that nickname coming from her lips.
âRight! Yes, um,â you walk over to the counter to grab a sticky note and a pen to scribble down your personal number. âHere. Call or text me with all the information.â
You place the small yellow piece of paper into her palm that wasnât holding Ishaâs. She takes it in between her pointer and middle fingers, nodding with a confident smile.
âI will. See you, cupcake.â
âSee you, Vi. Bye, sweetheart,â you bend down ever so slightly to wave at Isha.
The adorable girl waves her free hand at you with a just as cute toothy smile on her face. You excused it as a sugar rush as they walk away from you, hand in hand as they leave the store. Vi turns her head to give you one more glance before Isha is tugging her down the sidewalk.
Mila angrily stormed up to you the second they left and raised her hand with the rag to smack you on the forearm. You gasp and snatch the weapon away from her, pointing a finger in her face.
âWhat the hell? Stop hitting me with this,â you sneer.
âIâm wiping down tables and youâre flirting? How the hell is that fair?â Mila quips back as she folds her arms in front of her chest.
âI wasnât flirting. I was taking a cake order, by the way, so you can stop whining.â You roll your eyes as you walk back around to the counter.
Mila sucks in a deep breath before shaking her head.
âReally? So what was that whole,â your sister cleared her throat, sucking in a deep breath. âGiving her your personal number when you couldâve just given her the store's number?â
You pause your movements of wiping down the counter from behind the register, thinking about it for a moment. You knew why. You just hated your sister being all in your business.
âOkay, what is it to you?â You get defensive. âI canât⌠make new friends?â
Mila merely snorts before rolling her eyes.
âSure. You definitely only want to be friends with her.â
TAGLIST: @strawberrykidneystone @lovinglynny @kylorey25
#wlw#sapphic#lesbian#vi x you#vi fluff#vi arcane#arcane vi x reader#arcane vi#vi fanfic#arcane show#arcane league of legends#arcane league of lesbians
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LUNCH / sevika
Sevika x fem!reader nsfw headcanons
WC: no idea!!
for @mrsarnold
Sevika seems like the type to be into bigger women... sorry..
Constantly wants to be touching you in some way, sexual or non sexual, doesn't matter. she wants to be touching you all the time, keeping her hand on your thigh when sitting down anywhere, it's even gotten to the point where she makes you sit in her lap so you could be touching her.
She is a MUNCH i swear to god she is, wanting to eat you out until you're crying and begging for her to stop because you're so sensitive. her holding your thighs down as you jerk against her, but she doesn't care because she knows she's stronger than you
size kink.... yeah gets off on knowing she is bigger/taller than you.. This is really for me but her just resting her weight on you especially when her strap is in you to make sure she goes as deep as she can
i just know she is possessive, constantly keeping an arm around you in any public place and shooting people looks if they stare at you for too long.
i know y'all saw that scene with Caitlyn biting her... she is SO into biting, whether it's you biting her or the other way around. she mainly just wants to leave her marks on you even though everyone knows you belong to her.
I can see her being soft half the time, wanting to take her time with you and treating you so sweetly. Wants to kiss you passionately, slow deep thrusts, just making sure she's skin to skin with you. But after a long day of dealing with assholes she wants to be rough with you. Pulling your hair, overstimulating you till you're crying, choking you, spitting in your mouth...
She just wants to please you so bad, she gets off on seeing you cum with her name leaving your mouth.
Yeah she wants to please you but you pleasing her? Best thing ever. I don't see her as someone too loud in bed, groans and small moans falling from her when you're eating her out, but going down on her and making sure she comes at least twice before coming back up to kiss her. I'm honestly a sucker for pleasing so yeah..
Hear me out, with with an oral fixation? When she puts her mouth on you, she is not stopping until she's satisfied. Sucking on your clit till your hips are jerking against her face and she has to hold you down as she makes you cum again.
I think everyone in the fandom has agreed on her having a breeding kink, so yeah let's add that. Her favorite position would be missionary just so she can keep your face in her view, sometimes leaning down to suck marks on your neck, biting you too... Holds your cheeks together to make you stare at her because god does she love holding eye contact with you.
Loves when you go down on her strap, yeah she can't technically feel it but phantom strap..?? She doesn't have her arm anymore, doesn't mean she still can't feel it. She swears that she can feel you gagging on her and has actually came from it once.
a/n: this is so short but i really didn't feel like adding any more onto this... been really busy recently btw!! trying my best to be active but i haven't spent much time on my phone
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First Moments: Kiss
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Summary: The first time Dean Winchester kisses you Word count: 861 A/N: I am debating on making this a series, covering different "Firsts" with Dean.. Any interest in that? Let me know!
The first time Dean Winchester kisses you, it happens in the least romantic place imaginableâan old gas station parking lot on the outskirts of nowhere. The sun is setting, casting an amber glow over the cracked asphalt and the Impala parked nearby, her paint gleaming like polished obsidian. The faint smell of gasoline mingles with the crisp scent of impending rain, a storm brewing in the distance.
It wasnât planned. Nothing about Dean ever feels planned, really. Heâs a mess of contradictionsâcocky and self-assured one minute, guarded and vulnerable the next. Youâve been riding shotgun with him for weeks now, chasing down leads, salt-and-burning restless spirits, and fighting things most people wouldnât dare to believe existed. Somewhere along the way, you became more than just hunting partners. You donât know what to call it yet, but thereâs a connection between you, an unspoken pull that youâve both been too stubbornâor scaredâto acknowledge.
Until now.
It starts with an argument. Of course it does. Dean has this way of pushing your buttons, and tonight heâs doing it with the precision of a master.
âYou canât just run in there without a plan!â you snap, your arms crossed over your chest.
âAnd what was your plan, huh?â he shoots back, his voice rising. âTo stand around and wait until the ghost decides to play nice? Thatâs not how this works.â
âItâs called strategy, Dean. Maybe you should try it sometime instead of going full kamikaze every damn hunt!â
He scoffs, dragging a hand down his face in frustration. âYou know what your problem is? You think too much. Sometimes you just gotta act.â
âAnd you think too little!â you retort, your eyes narrowing. âOne of these days, your impulsiveness is going to get you killed.â
The words hang in the air, sharper than you intended, and for a moment, Dean just stares at you. His jaw tightens, and thereâs a flicker of something in his eyesâhurt, maybe, or regretâbut itâs gone before you can be sure.
âFine,â he says, his voice quieter now. âIf youâve got it all figured out, why the hell do you even need me?â
Itâs not the first time youâve fought, but thereâs something different about this one. The air between you feels charged, like the storm rolling in above. You donât answer right away, and Dean takes a step closer, his boots crunching against the gravel.
âWhy, huh?â he presses, his tone softer but no less intense. âWhy do you keep sticking around if Iâm such a screw-up?â
Your heart pounds against your ribs, a wild, erratic rhythm that matches the storm clouds overhead. You open your mouth to respond, but the words catch in your throat. Because itâs not that simple. Because you donât stick around in spite of his flawsâyou stick around because of them. Because Dean Winchester, for all his faults, is the kind of person who will throw himself in harmâs way without a second thought to save someone else. Because heâs loyal to a fault, fiercely protective, and has a smile that could light up the darkest corners of the world, even when he doesnât believe it himself.
âDeanâŚâ you start, but his name barely makes it past your lips before he moves.
Itâs not hesitant or tentativeâitâs sudden, like heâs been holding himself back for too long and finally snapped. His hands cup your face, rough and calloused but somehow gentle, and then his lips are on yours.
The kiss is everything you didnât know you needed. Itâs not perfectâDeanâs lips are a little chapped, and the angle is slightly awkward at firstâbut itâs real. Thereâs an urgency to it, a raw, unfiltered emotion that leaves you breathless. His hands are warm against your skin, grounding you even as the world seems to tilt on its axis.
You donât know who moves first, but suddenly your hands are fisting in his jacket, pulling him closer as if the space between you is unbearable. He responds in kind, deepening the kiss with a low, almost involuntary sound that sends a shiver down your spine. Itâs like the dam youâve both been holding back has finally burst, and thereâs no going back now.
When you finally break apart, youâre both breathing hard, your foreheads pressed together. The storm is closer now, the first drops of rain starting to fall, but neither of you seems to notice.
âWow,â you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
Dean chuckles, a low, self-deprecating sound. âYeah, uh⌠sorry about that. I probably shouldâveââ
âDonât,â you interrupt, your fingers still gripping his jacket. âDonât apologize.â
His eyes meet yours, and for once, thereâs no wall, no mask, no bravado. Just Dean.
âIâve wanted to do that for a while,â he admits, his voice soft and almost vulnerable.
You smile, your heart swelling in your chest. âTook you long enough.â
He laughs, the sound warm and genuine, and the tension between you finally seems to ease. The rain starts to pick up, but neither of you moves. For once, the hunt can wait. For once, the only thing that matters is this momentâmessy, imperfect, and absolutely perfect all at once.
Tag List: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @jc-winchester @whump-loverz @pizzagirlxnsfwx @king-of-milf-lovers @jollyhunter
#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#deanwinchesterblurb#deanwinchesterxreader#supernatural#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fluff#supernatural dean#deanwinchesterfluff#spn#sam winchester fluff#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader fluff#dean x you#dean winchester comfort#dean x reader#dean winchester angst#wanderingwinchesters#DeanWinchester#Supernatural#DeanxReader#ComfortFic#ReaderInsert#SupernaturalFic#FluffAndAngst#Fanfiction#wandering-winchesters
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Advent calendar: Day 17. Carrots
A/N: Kinda related, kinda not, but you should watch âHot Frostyâ on Netflix if you havenât, totally recommend it (itâs very ridiculous in the best way possible). Sorry for all the awful dialogue you are about
Snowman x fem!reader || questionable use of vegetables, temperature play (kinda), mentioned overstimulation
When your witch friend asked you to build a snowman with her, you thought nothing of it. It would be fun, the snow was fresh and everyone seemed cheerful around you as you built his round body. Your friend, though⌠She made hers to look a bit more realistic, less round and more angular, in a way that was giving uncanny valley vibes. But you thought nothing of it, why would you?
When she asked if you liked him, you started to suspect there was something special about him, but again, you thought nothing of it. And when she used the carrot to make a dick instead of a nose, you almost peed yourself laughing. It was just so stupid looking, all white and round but with a big carrot dick⌠You should have known better.
And then he showed up, alive and walking, knocking on your door and staring up and down at you like he was about to fuck you right there. His carrot dick was erected and pointing straight at you. You gaped at him as he smiled, stroking his dick slowly. You gaped some more, your eyes accidentally traveling down. That was an amazing carrotâŚ
No. Behave, you cannot fuck a snowman, you tried to remind myself.
âWait here,â you told the snowman, who only nodded. You grabbed your phone and dialed your friend. âWhy thereâs a living snowman at my door, dude?!â You screamed at her as soon as she picked up. The poor dude was looking at you as if you were his dream come true.
âCalm down, you seemed very lonely and I had a bit of extra magic lately⌠So I gave you my Christmas gift early. Do you like him? Have you tried him yet?â
âHave I tri- What the fuck?!â You must be dreaming, there was no way that was happening to you. You pinched yourself and blinked, but the snowman was still in front of you and your friend was still talking.
âHeâs ready for you, darling. He wants to treat you like the queen you deserve to be,â she explained, almost bored. You wanted to pull her hair until she was bald.
âYou did not send me a sex snowman,â you repeated, trying to make sense of what you were seeing and hearing.
âI did. Now I have to go, have fun!â She said before hanging up on you.
âWe are not fucking,â you told him, your frown so deep you could see your eyebrows.
âIâm going to feed my carrot to your hungry bunny,â he deadpanned, in a tone that you supposed was intended to sound sexy. It didnât. You struggled not to laugh, but his face was so serious you couldnât do that to him, he looked so hopeful.
You stared at him, his hand lazily stroking his carrot once again. You felt your face blushing. You really needed to get laid, your pussy was getting wet about a snowman and a carrot⌠But you had more pressing matters than your wet pussy.
âOne: you canât say things like that. And two: we arenât going to fuck.â His face fell and he stopped moving his hand, making you almost sad. Dang.
âWhy not? I can smell your juices.â He could what? âYou are hot for me and Iâm cold for you, we should do something about it.â How desperate were you that he sounded right? You did want to fuck a snowman⌠Fuck, there was something so, so wrong inside of you because you were considering taking him on the offer.
âI- We- You are a snowman,â you let out, not really having a point.
âAnd you are a human, but my carrot is very hard for you.â You chuckled, the absurdity of it all getting to you. But most of all, your strength to hold back disappeared with that affirmation. He was made for you, and you were very horny, and his carrot looked especially delicious right nowâŚ
âOkay,â you agreed, your pussy almost clapping with enthusiasm. It had been a long time since you were properly fucked and you were feeling the need for sure.
âOkay? Are you⌠are you sure?â He suddenly seemed very confused about your decision, as if all his bravado died the second you agreed to fuck him. You wanted to coo at him, but you decided there was a better choice.
You walked to him and kissed his half open mouth. He was cold, but at the same time his lips felt like velvet against yours as you devoured his mouth. He gave as much as received, deepening the kiss and circling your body with his arms. You were pressed firmly against his front and your nipples instantly hardened, he was so cold in such a pleasurable way⌠You didnât even know you had something for temperature play but good snowman if your pussy wasnât quivering thinking about his hard carrot pocking your stomach.
You parted, looking at him intently, but when you didnât find any doubt in his eyes, your choice was already made. âFuck me, my snowman,â you almost pleaded, your voice trembling as your pussy pulsated at the same rhythm as your heart.
âYour wish is my command.â He laid you on the floor, right in the middle of your living room. âAre you ready for my carrot?â He asked, as you tried not to giggle. You nodded, fearing if you opened your mouth you would laugh and he wouldnât give you his dick. And you needed it. You needed it so, so bad.
He entered you in one long thrust and you cried out in ecstasy. The contrast between your warm body and his cold skin was exhilarating and arousing, sending you to the stratosphere of pleasure. You didnât know what was about to happen, but the size and shape of his carrot ended up being fantastic. The almost pointy tip played with your cervix as the wide base made your pussy clench around it, rubbing against your G-spot in the most amazing way. It was the perfect sex toy, even better, he was like a breathing sex-toy and that made your brain turn a bit fuzzy at the edges, arousal so big it was maddening.
He started a punishing pace, his dick going in and out of you so fast and hard your whole body was moving across the floor. You had to hold onto the carpet (carpet burn be damned) to be still as he pounded into your welcoming heat. He kept moaning how warm and wet you were, how good your heat felt against his cold⌠And you could only chant âyes, yes, yesâ as he kept going.
And when you came like a tidal wave, your whole body convulsing as he kept fucking you. He didnât stop, he fucked you through it as he used his cold fingers to rub your clit, making you ascend in your pleasure even higher. You screamed his name, pulling at his ice hair and trying to hold for dear life as you kept coming and comingâŚ
And he kept going.
He fucked you many more times that night, his stamina endless as he kept using his clever carrot to pound into your G-spot as his cold fingers pinched your clit until you couldnât hold back orgasm after orgasm. It was the most intense pleasure youâd ever felt, and by the time you asked for a rest, he was smirking down at you, the smugness in his face making your overused pussy twitch in anticipation.
And then you remembered⌠You had to thank your friend. Damn it.
#snowman#snowman x reader#snowman x human#snowman x you#monster advent calendar#monster#monster fucker#monster imagine#teratophillia#monster x human#monster x reader#terato#monster boyfriend#monster fuqqer#monster lover#monster kink#monster love#monster romance#monster smut#monster x you#monsterfucker#monsterfucking nsft
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The Ex gets Married
Bruce Wayne x Ex-Girlfriend!Reader
Summary: Bruce breaks up with Y/n and ends up in a tumultuous relationship with Selina. Bruce finds out about his ex-girlfriend moving on and is heartbroken.
Warning: Bruce does not have a happy ending.
Many years before, Bruce, had to make a life altering decision.
Should he follow his head or his heart?
He loved both Selina and Y/n dearly for very different reasons.
But there was no use pondering the decision further. Selina was a safe bet.
Selina, whilst fickle, was still a woman capable of handling the rough and tough life style that accompanied his alter-ego. Selinaâs life parallels his own; their secret life, their deep rooted trauma, their years of personal growth together.
When considering these factors, it was indisputable, he had to follow his head, and in the end he got exactly what he asked for.
An unbridled romantic companion that was only ever present when it suited her.
Selina was never consistent in supporting Bruce. Only being present at the worst of times, and never being available to celebrate the best of times.
Selina was incapable of bonding with his sons. Itâs not like she didnât try, the boys were just utterly disinterested in bonding with a woman who seemed to sail in and out of Bruceâs life on a whim. Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian felt Selina was not going to be around long, so they always turned her down or avoided Selina when possible.
Selina was uncomfortable with the mundane. Drama followed her where ever she went. Her constant blow outs strains Bruce beyond measure.
As usual, Bruce retreats to his cold and lonely bed. Itâs been weeks since he last heard from Selina. He stares at the ceiling and wonders what his life couldâve been like had he followed his heart.
You were always the first to hold Bruce and comfort him in his times of need. You were always pushing to celebrate ridiculous milestones and insisting it was important since it was an achievement.
You put in so much effort bonding with his sons. Youâd spent days in Bludhaven, looking after Dick in hospital when no one else could. You drove to Jasonâs favourite dive bar, drank beer with him every Friday. You attended all of Timâs extracurricular events. You would drink tea with Damian and listen to him vent his frustrations with his teammates.
Better yet, you were always in bed waiting for him. Arms always spreading open, ready to embrace him after a difficult night out.
Bruce missed you dearly, but he knows he made the right decision. Selina was capable of protecting herself- you werenât.
Bruce constantly reminds himself of that time Joker almost took your life as you helplessly dangled from the building. Your survival from that encounter was pure luck. If Bruce wasnât your boyfriend, you wouldâve been safe.
So, Bruce made the right decision following his head. Following his heart wouldâve brought nothing but heartache.
The house seemed unusually quite. There was no noise, no movement. He hasnât heard anything from anyone.
âAlfred, where are the boys?â The older gentlemen continues to assemble the cucumber sandwiches, pretending he didnât hear a single word. âAlfred?â The older man sighs as he contemplates telling the truth, to honouring the lie fabricated by the boys. At last, Alfred opts for the ugly truth.
âThe young masters are attending a wedding ceremony.â Alfred answers bluntly, unwilling to be the barer of bad news.
âA wedding ceremony? Whoâs wedding is it?â Alfred places the plate in front of Bruce, continuing to avoid eye contact. âAlfred, answer the question.â
He sighs as he pours a glass of water. âJohn Constantines wedding.â
Confusion crosses Bruce as to why his sons are attending that manâs wedding. âI didnât know he had a significant other, who is he marrying?â
Alfred looks off to the clock as Bruce waits impatiently for the long drawn out answer. The clock strikes twelve, which floods the house with a melody to notify half the day has passed. Finally, Alfred speaks. âAs of 12âoclock John Constantine has married his beloved wife Y/n Constantine.â
All colour in Bruceâs face drains, his mouth goes dry and heâs not sure if his heart is beating. âY/n⌠sheâs married?â Alfred nods unsympathetically.
âThe women you love has married someone that isnât you.â Alfredâs words rubs salt in Bruceâs already wounded heart. âIncase you were wondering Master Bruce⌠Selina Kyle had introduced the two around the time you had broken up.â Bruceâs head turns to mush at the news.
Itâs not like he intended to get back together with you or anything- so why is he so upset?
Of course you would move on eventually, he knew that. Thatâs just common sense. Why would you be single for the rest of your life?
Yet despite all common sense Bruceâs heart continues to squeeze painfully, his head thumping away as a growing migraine takes place.
The love of his life has gone on and married someone else.
God.
Is it too late to win her back?
What was he thinking ? Of course it is.
Thereâs no going back.
Bruce will just have to accept his decision.
#dc imagine#dc x reader#batboys x reader#batboys imagine#batman x reader#Bruce Wayne x reader#Bruce Wayne imagine#batman x you#dc comics x reader#batman imagine#ExGirlfriend!reader#cw angst#ex!reader#Bruce Wayne x Ex-girlfriend!reader#Bruce Wayne x ExGirlfriend!reader
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dec. 14 ⧠day one ⧠preparing your home for winter - itoshi sae x reader fluff, blue lock. note: reader is close with her mother in this, and has some personality.
"Cute." Sae raises a soft toy out of the box of them, squeezing its head in your direction as if it's nodding. You can't help but laugh at his nonchalant face whilst doing something so childish.
The box is full of them, never thrown out since the day you were born. It makes him about what you must've been like as a child. With a room full of stuffed toys, he imagines, from how many he's seeing in the box right now. Did you covet them, similarly to how you do with him now?
"I don't know what my mom was thinking, buying all of these for me." You sigh, sifting through them for a bit before shutting the box back again, a lift of dust catching the light like fireflies.
"She loves and spoils you. Are you sure you wanna throw all this out?" He gestures to the row of boxes lined against the wall.
You sigh again. You've done that a lot throughout this process, something like pain and grief and fatigue all in one.
"My grandmother was a huge hoarder. It might seem strange but⌠This is the best thing. The thing I've wanted to do for so long."
You take his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together. "Thank you for being here for me through this. The donations⌠it feels like a good thing."
He's never sure what to do or what to say when you get like this. Your heavy-heartedness, the sentimentality you hold. Sometimes, he can't believe that all you feel fits in your chest.
It must be heavy, he thinks. He loves you. He'll hold it with you.
He pats your head, and the way you beam at him makes everything a little lighter.
"You've provided so much for me, Sae," you wrap your arms around his neck. "You've given me so much. It feels right, to be able to at least give back a little." You stare out at the boxes, a nostalgic look passing over for just a moment. "This'll all go to homes. It's something my mom and I used to do together, give them out. She'd be happy to hear it's finally going to be of good use. I'll call her and let her know."
You've said this before, that he provides for you. Something about having a home, about security, about finally being able to relax. He's not always sure what you mean, just happy to make you happy. What you provide for him, someone to come home to, a love that feels bigger than the world, your innovation and communication and compassion -- That, he knows. He imagines it's something like that. He hopes it is.
"Giving back does sound good," he hums.
"My mother says it's good feng shui, too, you know. To clear out a home before the new year starts."
"New year, new me?" he jests, and you smack him in the chest.
"It sounds weird when you say it!"
twelve days of selfshipmas event
late post to this event! my family's place is indeed being cleaned out rn w everything going to donation ahaha. i hope everyone has the most loveliest christmas!
#sae x reader#sae x reader fluff#itoshi sae x reader#sae itoshi x reader#itoshi sae x reader fluff#sae itoshi x reader fluff#sae x you#sae x y/n#blue lock x reader#blue lock x reader fluff#bllk#bllk x reader#bllk x you#fragments of memories: drabble#fragments of memories: selfship#sae#dividers by enchanthings#12 days of selfshipmas
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A Christmas wish
Weeks after the death of Dean in that barn, y/n was nearing her first Christmas without her boyfriend, as she sat under the stars and saw a shooting star she prayed to Jack for one last day with Dean as she didn't get the chance to say a proper goodbye, but knowing Jack was hands off she didn't hold her breath. As she woke up on christmas morning a surprise was waiting for her in the bunker library...........
No warnings needed, a bit sad but I really needed to write this so I hope you like it đĽšđ little nervous about posting this, not gonna lie đŤŁ
Y/n's heart felt heavier with each passing day as Christmas approached. Days had turned into weeks since Dean's tragic death in the barn. The painful memories haunted her every waking moment, and the thought of celebrating Christmas without him was unbearable.
On Christmas Eve, y/n decided to spend the night under the stars with Miracle by her side, seeking solace in their twinkling beauty.
As she gazed up at the sky, a shooting star streaked across the darkness. In that moment, a surge of emotion welled up inside her, and she whispered a silent prayer to Jack, the all-powerful entity she had encountered on her adventures with Dean.
She prayed for just one more day with Dean, a chance to say a proper goodbye and find closure in their tumultuous journey. But y/n knew deep down that Jack was a hands-off observer, and the chances of her prayer being answered were slim.
The cold night air seemed to echo her silent pleas as she ad Miracle finally retreated inside the bunker, bracing herself for the emptiness of Christmas morning. When she woke up, something was different. Miracle seemed to sense the change too and ran off before y/n could stop him.
Y/n made her way to the bunker's library, her heart heavy with grief and longing. As she entered the room, a gasp escaped her lips. There, standing in the dim light of the Christmas tree, was Dean. He crouched down ruffling Miracles fur, he was excited to see him.
Tears blurred y/n's vision as she rushed forward, unsure if she was dreaming or if this was some cruel twist of fate. But as Dean turned to her with a smile that reached his eyes, she knew this was real. "how, I mean, are you really here?" y/n asked him, looking him up and down in disbelief". Dean reached out to her, his fingers brushing against her arm. She flinched at his touch, her eyes going wide as she realised he was really standing in front of her.
Dean pulled her in for a hug. His hand gently landing on the back of her head as she sobbed quietly against his chest. He cleared his throat as he began to talk to her. "it seems that your little wish you made, Jack heard." y/n's head snapped up and found those glistening green orbs staring back at her. "I thought............ I didn't think he........... I can't believe your here" she struggled to get the words to describe how she was dealing with this. Dean held her a little tighter as they embraced each other still standing by the tree.
For a moment time seemed to stand still. They were holding onto each other as if they would never let go. Dean's presence was warm and solid, his familiar scent filling the room and easing the ache in y/n's heart. Dean walked them over to the couch, holding her close to him. He wasn't going to waste a single second of his time with her. He knew he had to explain this was a one time deal, but for now he would just take in the moment and cuddle with his girl.
As they sat together by the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree, Dean recounted his journey after his death, the battles he had fought, and the sacrifices he had made. He spoke of his love for y/n, a love that transcended time and space, a love that had brought him back to her side on this special day. With Jack's help of course. Dean then told her that this wasn't permanent, but he would always be watching over her. Nothing really stays dead in the world of supernatural, even if he wasnt coming back for good this time, he would always look out for her.
And as they exchanged words of love and forgiveness, y/n realized that this unexpected gift was more than just a Christmas miracle. It was a chance to say goodbye, to find closure, and to cherish the memories they had shared. As the day turned to evening, y/n and Dean spent one last night together. They made love to each other, Dean not rushing a single moment of it. He wanted to make sure she knew how much he loved her, that she would always be his soul mate.
As the first light of dawn broke, Dean woke up with y/n still in his arms. He pushed the hair away from her face and placed a sweet kiss on her cheek. She stirred as he was standing at the edge of the bed looking down at her. Tears formed in her eyes as she knew this was her final goodbye. She knelt in front of him and kissed him one last time. As she pulled away their foreheads touching, Dean's form began to fade. His final words echoed in y/n's heart. "I'll always be with you," he whispered, his voice filled with love and warmth.
And as y/n watched him disappear into the light, she knew that Dean Winchester would forever be a part of her, guiding her through the darkness and lighting up her world with his love. And on that Christmas morning, y/n found peace in the knowledge that love never truly dies, it simply transforms into something eternal and divine.
TAGLIST : @nescavaneckdaily @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @angelbabyyy99 @cheynovak @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33
Let me know what you think, I hope you guys liked it 𼰠đ
#jensen ackles#dean winchester#jackles#jensen ross ackles#supernatural#spn cast#deanwinchtser#jensen ackles gifs#soldier boy#beau arlen#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x female!reader
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Head empty just thoughts of Cabernet kissing your neck.....in a hot manner
You were merely changing clothes when you felt your lover's presence behind you, her hands roaming over your curves. She begins by parting your hair to place a gentle, electrifying kiss on your nape. The action makes you arch into her and she sensually drags her arms around to hug your body. She feels your head tilt forward as she presses her lips deeper into your nape, her tongue lapping up your skin before pulling away. She moans at your taste, praising how sweet you are and how she just wants to devour you.
"Ahhh, my love....Mmm, your taste is simply divine~"
She then turns you around and pushes you down the nearest surfaceâ even if it's the floor, and immediately straddles you. You can feel her lustful gaze staring at you, her tongue dripping over her lips as her hands caress your neck. She feels the bend and curve of your neck, the bulge in your throat as you swallow in nervousness, the softness of your skin and the delicious taste she's addicted to. She wants to be patient and feel you up more, but she can't hold back from diving forward and placing her mouth on your neck. You gasp when she places a wet and open-mouthed kiss on your collarbone, but you know there's a lot more she plans to do.
"Aaah.... More.... I want you, love~" Cabernet pants, clearly becoming more desperate as time passed.
"Mmm, you are so sweet...." She moans against your skin as her tongue laps up your neck in a long strip reaching up to your jaw.
She places extra emphasis when she licks over your throat, dragging her tongue extremely slowly and deeply to savour it. The bulge of your throat runs over the tip of her tongue, and she playfully teases it by circling over it for a moment. You moan from inside, your suppressed voice sending vibrations to her which makes her sigh in ecstasy. She can't hold back from making another wet, open-mouthed kiss on your neck, this time practically engulfing your throat in her mouth and biting it. You groan at the sensation of her teeth grazing your skin, her eyes becoming hooded as pleasure surged through her looking at your state. She needs you more, and she needs you now.
Her previous slow pace is no more as she proceeds to kiss, lick, bite and ravage your neck in a lustful daze. Her crimson lipstick is smeared all over your neck, the shape of her lips barely visible as she smudged everything with her licking and biting. You were surprised she even stayed at just your neck so far, but you could tell she was more than ready to mark the rest of your body with the way her hands clenched your shirt and almost ripped it. She smirks when she meets your gaze and licks her lips before licking yours too and biting your lower lip.
"You have no idea how much I waited for you to come back the whole day..... Aaah, I need to taste you more. I can never have enough of you, my love~"
#kuro's thoughts#path to nowhere#path to nowhere x reader#ptn cabernet#cabernet x reader#ptn x reader#cabernet
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Twelve Christmases
Chapter tags: Michael returns, implied homophobia
read below or on ao3
Day 8: 2017
Tommy hadn't stepped foot in his hometown in fifteen years.
And when he did return home, he hadn't planned on saying much.
He planned on sitting back and watching his father be a disaster with his new family.
A stepmother of eight years that he'd never met.
A stepsister and two stepbrothers he couldn't tell you the names of.
Step nieces and nephews and cousins. Tons of people for his dad to embarrass himself in front of on Christmas day.
What he didn't expect was for them to all be so damn happy.
His stepmom, Tina, laughing and giggling with Michael by her side.
His step siblings giving him a hug.
The kids all running to him, calling him grandpa.
Not a bottle of beer in sight.
It filled Tommy with a rage he hadn't felt in years.
And it caused him to blurt out the one thing he'd only just been able to admit to himself a few months earlier.
âI'm gay.â
The room fell silent, everyone gathered at the table for Christmas dinner. All eyes were on Tommy as he stared down his dad as though he were daring him to react.
The seconds ticking by felt like hours.
âHm,â Michael finally breathed out. He picked his fork up, motioning around the table. âCome on now, let's eat, food's gettin' cold.â
The silence faded away with the sounds of utensils clanging on dishes, and whispered conversations picking up between guests.
Tommy continued to watch his dad, who was smiling over at Tina as they spoke to one another.
âHey, congrats,â one of Tommy's stepbrothers (Sam, he thinks), leaned over and said to him.
âAre you congratulating me for being gay?â Tommy deadpanned.
âNo, just for like, coming out or whatever. I know- or, well, I've heard- that it's like, ya know, tough and stuff.â
Tommy had to fight back every retort that was popping into his brain. âYeah,â he agreed. âIt's real tough and stuff.â
Then Sam (or is it Jim? Henry? Steve?) reached out and patted his shoulder. âProud of you, Bro.â
Tommy wished his eyes were laser beams that he could use to shoot directly at the hand Sam-Jim-Henry-Steve touched him with.
Instead, he plastered on a smile. âThanks.â
*****
They didn't get another chance to speak until everyone else had left. Tina went to get a shower and Tommy found himself in the living room with his dad.
âSo?â he started, not bothering to sit. âWhat have you been holding in?â
Michael, who had been focused on the TV, muted it before turning to look over at Tommy. âWhat the hell were you thinking?â
âThere it is.â
âYou don't come around for fifteen damn years and when you finally do, you act like an ass all day long. We sit down for a nice dinner and you say something like that?â he shook his head. âI don't even know what to think of you.â
âI wasn't acting like an ass all day,â Tommy defended. âI've been so unbelievably confused by whatever game you've been playing! Who the hell even are you?â
âI don't know what you're talking about.â
âI have never, not once, seen you sober on Christmas. Hell, I never really saw you on Christmas at all. When I did, it was a nightmare! You certainly weren't picking me up and spinning me around like you did those kids today. It's all some weird ass show you're putting on.â
âHey!â Michael stood, standing face to face with his son. âIt is not a show. I love that woman and all the people that come with her!â
âSo that's what this is? You just never loved mom? Or me?â
âYour mom was weak, Tommy! She didn't know what I needed.â
âNo, that was the problem!â Tommy yelled, poking at Michael's chest, âShe was only ever here for what you needed!â
Michael smacked Tommy's hand away. âWe're not talking about this right now. We're gonna talk about that- that lie you told at dinner just to try and upset me.â
Tommy stood up straight, his heart pounding. âIt's not a lie. I'm gay.â
âNo, you're not.â
âI think I'd know a little better than you.â
âI will not...â Michael's voice trailed off as he breathed heavily through his nose. Tommy was pretty sure fire would be coming out if that were possible.
âWhat?â Tommy taunted. âYou will not what?â
âI want you out of my house,â Michael said, teeth gritted together. âI don't need you around my family.â
Tommy huffed out a laugh. âAround your family? What am I then, Dad?â
âAn embarrassment!â Michael screamed, no hesitation.
Tommy pursed his lips, nodding. âNow that's the dad I know,â he said, his voice wavering slightly. âI'll get my stuff, leave tonight.â
As he left the living room and headed down the hall, he stopped when he saw Tina standing in the doorway of the main bedroom. It was just like his mom used to do all those years ago.
âTommy,â she said, her voice quiet, sad. âYou don't have to go tonight. You can stay.â
Tommy shook his head. âNo, I'm not gonna stay. Thank you though.â
He continued toward his childhood bedroom to grab his things. He'd never really unpacked anyway.
âI didn't know,â she said, stopping him again. He turned back to her. âI've never heard him like that before.â
He smiled at her sadly. âIt's okay,â he assured her. âI have.â
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beam me up | đđŹđ
ŕ¨ŕ§ pairing: choi soobin x fem!reader ŕ¨ŕ§ word count: 3.5k ŕ¨ŕ§ genre: lots of fluff, smidges of comedy, smut ŕ¨ŕ§ tags: parents!au, married!au, established relationship!au, body (mostly chest) worship, pet names (love, bunny, baby, etc), oral (f receiving), fingering, breeding kink, lactation kink, unprotected sex, down bad soobin essentially. ŕ¨ŕ§ synopsis: Going out after having a baby should be a breeze. So what if you don't feel incredibly confident? So what if you both act like awkward teenagers on your first date? It's you and Soobin, and that's all that matters. ⸠bless my pals @lovetaroandtaemin, @xomakara, and @heesuncore for reading this behemoth ilysm
Why am I so nervous? You think to yourself as you swipe the mauve shade in your hand across your bottom lip. Its light pigment prevents staining, yet provides noticeable definition, just enough to stand out. Your hair is in a low bun, two stray bangs falling over your cheeks. With your makeup and floral midi dress, you feel confident enough to step out and leave the house without becoming riddled with anxious thoughts.
The demands of motherhood have been hefty, but you clean up well. And despite all the dirty diapers and staying awake pumping, youâre ready to spend one night simply as Soobinâs wife. Perhaps a night out in town with your husband is exactly what you both need after three months of being parents.
Itâs been picture perfect, without question. Minyoung has her fatherâs pout when she sleeps, your long eyelashes, and the softness of a human being well beyond her years. But, you canât deny that you miss the days where it was just you and Soobin in your own bubble.
Perhaps tonight, you can discover a balance where your old and new life blend harmoniously.
You step out into the living room to see Soobin with his mother, your daughter asleep in her grandmotherâs arms. Soobin holds a laundry list of instructions in one hand and her car-seat in the other, waving his hands in frantic motions. âShe usually naps like this for about two hours, but if she sleeps more, thatâs even better. And thenââ
Soobin stops short and looks back at you when he senses your presence. Your in-law and husband stare at you in disbelief. The frayed edges of your appearance from a few hours ago are nowhere to be seen.
Soobin looks at you like you hang the moon. His smile is small in the presence of his mother, him trying to maintain some semblance of modesty, but itâs âelectric. âYou look beautiful.â He sets the car-seat down on the floor to free his hand, reaching it out for you to take.
You do it gladly, smiling from ear to ear. Soobin also cleans up well, his button up tucked in his cargo pants. Heâs always dressed a bit like a dad in training, and now he fits the billâ. âYou donât look too bad yourself, Binnie.â
His face turns a shade of pink at the nickname, unable to hide your effect on him. He turns back to his mother and refers to the paper in his hand. âIf you need something that isnât in her diaper bag, pleaseâââ
âSoobin, I can handle it. Just spend the night with your lovely wife.â His mother winks at you and takes the car seat from him. âI promise to bring her back in the morning in one piece.â
You and Soobin kiss the top of Minyoungâs soft head and say your goodbyes, both of your hearts clenching. Itâs the first time youâve been apart from her for more than an hour or two, so the prospect is daunting, at the very least. âBe good for grandma, lilâ bun,â Soobin whispers to her sleeping figure.
When your mother-in-law leaves, Soobin looks back at you with a mixture of excitement, anxiety, and desire. âReady to go?â
You nod, sharing the same concoction of emotions. Most importantly, though, youâre relieved to finally have some alone time together. Wherever the night takes you is anyoneâs guess. âDefinitely.â
You both sit at the table in the restaurant like itâs your first date. Uncertain about what to expect once the meal ends, full of nerves and anticipation.
Soobin finds it hard to make eye contact with you, his eyes moving across the entire room. He canât help it when you look so beautiful. You always do, but tonight is different. Heâs been so stuck in the haze of being a new dad, itâs like heâs seeing you clearly again. Now, he doesnât know what to do with himself.
Youâve been married for half a decade, âyet every time he sees you, he falls deeper. Itâs the first time for him every second he gets to touch you, kiss you, tell you how much you matter to him.
With a child, his feelings have only amplified. He looks at Minyoung some mornings and sees all the features he loves about you and vice versa in one human, his pride as great as his love.
But, instead of revealing heâs in the throes of intense admiration for you in the small Italian restaurant, he turns his focus back to the menu in his hands and looks over the wine list.
The appetizer you shared a few minutes ago has made him thirsty for some alcohol, it seems. âI know you have water, but do you want some Pinot, too? Oh! They have Moscato! I know thatâs your favorite.â
Itâs the way his eyes light up and his mouth curves into that signature O that makes you giggleâ, unable to contain it.
âWhatâs so funny?â Soobin looks up from his menu with mirth.
âNothing at all, Binnie. Iâm just happy.â
Your chest pinches at his soft reaction to your words, him looking over his menu at you with bright eyes.
Soobin has always been a goofball, intentionally or not, but itâs what makes him the best partner, among his many qualities. He knows when to be serious, taking the reins when necessary, but heâs well-versed in lightening the mood when you need it.
Itâs surreal sometimes thinking about how you lucked out.
Suddenly, your thoughts cease thanks to the rising discomfort from your breasts. It started as an unnoticeable pinch when you gave your drink and light food order, but now itâs full-on pain erupting in your chest.
Why is it so uncomfortable?
You feel the droplets of milk settling into the fabric of your dress, your question answered in a flash.
The impending concern rises on Soobinâs face when he notices your scrunched-up brows and mouth. Then, he sees the two small wet patches forming on your chest. Immediately, he shucks off his jean jacket to give you. âHere baby, take this.â
A deep blush forms on your cheeks when you cover up with his garment. Youâre unsure how to broach the subject or the rest of dinner in this state, immediately self-conscious. âIâm sorry. This is so embarrassing, Iââ
âBaby, no. Donât be sorry, itâs normal.â Soobin says the words with so much empathy, you could cry from that alone. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and clean yourself up, not listening to the words that leave his lips in rapid succession. Youâre a mom. It happens to every mom at some point! I love you!
Soobin feels useless, knowing no words he says will assuage your shame. He decides now is as good of a time as any to check up on Minyoung. Itâs been almost three hours since heâs talked to his mother.
When the line rings, Soobin doesnât let it bother him. Minyoung probably needed a burping or night-time bath. No big deal.
By the second unsuccessful attempt at contact, his heart drops into his stomach. What if somethingâs wrong? As he tries to call for the third and fourth time, his thoughts spiral further.
What if his mother rushed out with Minyoung and she forgot to bring her cell because it was so serious? He knows babies usually are out of the woods for colic by the third or fourth month, but anythingâs possible, right?
Parental anxiety is one thing, a feeling Soobin knows well by now, but his instincts are usually spot-on. And something has to be going on if his mother isnât getting back to him.
You trot over to the table, tucking Soobinâs jacket tighter around your chest so it doesnât flap open. The event may have been embarrassing at the moment, but youâre ready to get the night back on track and focus on your husband.
You smile eagerly, not noticing the way Soobinâs face has gone stark white. âI think I got most of it, butââ
âWe have to go. Somethingâs wrong.â
You donât think twice, practically stealing Soobinâs keys from his pocket when he stands up. The two of you race out of the restaurant and to your little girl, your thoughts newly scrambled in the worst ways.
Soobin tries to knock on his parentsâ door without slamming his fist against the wood, but he canât help it. So many scenarios have built up in his head since his intuition kicked in. He could barely say one word on the drive to his motherâs. The silence was palpable in the air, both of your bodies filled to the brim with fear and regret for leaving her for one second.
Soobinâs mother answers the door with a shocked expression. âHoney, what are you twoââ
Soobin barrels past her and into the house. You follow hot on his heels. His pace is quick, his voice loud as he calls out Minyoungâs name like sheâs able to answer him back.
Then, you find Minyoung perfectly content. Soobinâs dad has her in his arms at the dinner table, feeding her a bottle of milk. âHey, kids. Why are you here?â
Soobin stutters when he responds. âM-Mom wasnât answering and weââ
âOh, lord.â You hear her deep groan pervade the small kitchen. âYou left the restaurant for that?â
âWhat were we supposed to think?â Your words are full of defense, lighthearted now that youâre not in panic mode. Were your worst thoughts so unexpected? You felt bad enough leaving your daughter alone with people you trusted just for a night of solitude. If something worse had happened, the guilt wouldâve been too much to bear.
Soobin rushes over to Minyoung and takes her from his fatherâs arms. Droplets of milk spill from her lips, but she doesnât care. She reaches up to touch Soobin, her little nails gliding across his face. âDaddyâs here, Minnie.â He presses his forehead to hers, smiling proudly. âIâm right here.â
You tear up at the image in front of you, relieved to see your baby girl out of harmâs way. Even if the harm was entirely imaginary, youâre calmer nonetheless.
Soobin walks towards you and kisses the crown of your head. âSorry I pulled a false alarm, baby.â
Although youâll never tell him, you donât mind that he did so. Heâs an incredible husband and father, always on alert for the two of you and putting his needs to the wayside. You have to remind him every day to also think of himself, and he appreciates you looking out for him in the same fashion.
You shake your head and move Minyoung from Soobinâs arms to yours. You kiss her chubby cheeks and she coos at the attention, the spitting image of her father. âDaddy is gonna be the death of me, isnât he, baby girl?â
Soobin chuckles into your hair and holds onto one of Minyoungâs fists with his palm. âNot if I can help it.â
âNow that you both have made sure sheâs okay, go back to your date night!â Your mother-in-law strides into the dining room to pluck Minyoung from your grip. Minyoung is more than comfortable with it, smiling widely into her grandmotherâs neck. âItâs rude enough that you both interrupted your dinner time and ours.â She turns to speak directly to Minyoung. âRight, sweetie? How dare they!â
âItâs officially off, I promise.â Soobin puts his phone in the glove-box once he parks the car in the downtown parking garage, determined to make the rest of the date night go off without a hitch.
You laugh and take his hand in yours, interlacing your fingers. âSo much for low-key and relaxing, right?â
âHey!â He points at you with his other hand. âItâs only 8 PM. The nightâs still young.â
âWell, weâre not gonna be able to go back to the restaurant now. Not after I practically gave out my milk for free.â You cover your face with the palm not wrapped in your husbandâs, but he takes that one too.
âStop it,â he chides with a stern pout. âEven if you leaked through your shirt every time we went out, youâd still be more beautiful than every other person on the planet.â
You tease, "You're just saying that."
âI mean it! Do you see how gorgeous and incredible Minyoung is? Thatâs half your handiwork.â
You roll your eyes, but your body lights from within at his words. âSheâs half yours too. You probably didnât notice, but every waitress was checking you out.â
Soobin blushes hard, suddenly shy. âThey were not.â
âYes, they were. I canât blame them, though. Parenthood has made you ten times sexier.â
Soobin quirks an eyebrow, the undercurrent of passion in your words unmistakable. He gets closer to you until your faces are barely an inch apart. His lips ghost over yours. âI could say the same about you. Iâve only had eyes for you, but even more so now that youâve had my baby.â
You gulp, noticing how hard your thighs are clenching in your seat. Soobin notices too, holding one of your knees in his hand with a smirk. âBinnie, Iâm not hungry for food anymore.â
He presses his lips to yours slowly. You moan into his mouth from such exquisite pleasure thatâs been long overdue. He glides his tongue in between your lips as he palms one of your breasts over his jacket. When he takes his mouth from yours, heâs breathing heavily. âI was gonna say the same thing.â
Itâs a clash of teeth and tongue when you make it inside the house. Hands run over curves and skin to take off the restricting clothing, appearances be damned.
You discard Soobinâs button-up somewhere in the hallway as he pulls your hair loose from your bun, clutching the strands at your nape to expose more of your neck. He riddles your skin with love bites before you even make it to the bedroom, but you both love it. How feral and frantic you are for one another, no children or external restrictions holding you back.
By the time your body hits the king-sized bed, all thatâs left on you, garments-wise, is your thin bralette and mismatched underwear. Soobin looks over your body with a hunger thatâs unshakeable. The poor manâs probably salivating at the mouth by now, just like you.Â
Ever since the doctorâs six-week ban on any physically strenuous activity, he couldnât imagine dry-humping without fear of hurting you. That timeline came and went in a flash, but with the fatigue of daily life, it seemed impossible to find time to be intimate.
Until now, that is.
âHow did I get so lucky? Youâre angelic.â Soobin spreads his palms out over your chest. His long fingers squeeze your breasts over the confines of your lingerie, making you moan. âI have to take this off, bunny. I need to see you.â
You feel heat pooling at your center from his gaze, his words, his touches on your skin. You unclasp the clips holding your bra together and flick it away, not breaking eye contact the entire time.
He used to be so shy during sex, and now he wastes no time unzipping his pants to touch himself. âFucking perfect,â he grunts, staring at the pebbling of your nipples and the volume of your tits from lactation. He spreads the pooling pre-cum in his hand to rub his cock earnestly.
You whimper and clench around nothing, the center of your underwear incredibly damp. Why did he get to have all the fun and leave you frustrated? âBinnie, please touch me.â
âGladly.â He uses the hand not holding his dick to yank your underwear off and throw them in a corner of your room. Once the fabric is gone, he dives in between your legs. His licks start small, kitten-like in their touch, but soon he grows hungrier, more dominant. Eating you out has always been one of his favorite things during sex, like it's the only thing he needs to do to sustain himself.
âYou taste amazing. You always do.â He stops jerking himself off to press two fingers inside of you without warning, mixing his essence with yours on his way to your warm and wet walls. His lips and tongue remain attached to your clit as he prods you soft and slow.
âGod, it feels so good.â You raise your hips to match the rhythm of his hand inside of you. Despite being eager to keep his mouth between your legs, you reach down for him, wanting to feel his lips on yours again. âI want you up here with me.â
Soobin smiles gently before crawling up the expanse of your body. He looks down at you, unable to hide how strong his desire runs in his veins. But instead of his declarations of love that heâs said a million times before, he greets you with a deep kiss to your lips and pushes his fingers back into your cunt.
You moan into his mouth. âJesus fuck, babe.â You whimper as he leans his head down to latch his mouth to one of your nipples, still ramming his hand deeper into you. Some milk sinks onto his tongue and dribbles past his chin, but he doesnât care. If anything, it turns him on more. His cock produces more pre-cum and spreads onto your bedsheets.
âI want you inside of me, Soobin.â You spread your legs wider for him to settle into, and he does.
He rubs the head of his cock across your slit before nestling inside fully, his mouth opening in a large gasp as he fills you. âIt always feels like the first time, bunny. Always so tight for me, fuck.â
His pace is reverent, driven by his lust, his love for you, and his desire to make this experience as incredible as it already is for him. He rubs your clit between his fingers, and your face contorts into absolute pleasure after a few minutes like that, privy to every feeling. When you fall apart, your body clenching around him in ecstasy, the moment is too beautiful for Soobin to handle. Itâs a picture he wants to tattoo on his heart forever.
You could have done anything in this life, and by his luck and the universeâs grace, you were led straight to him and have given him some of the greatest gifts he could ever ask for. Your love, your hand in marriage, your children.
He would follow you anywhere without question. And he may not always believe it, but he also holds all the same powers over you. Without him, the world would be a lot duller, no color to define the edges and details of the life that youâve built together. He makes it all worth it.
So when his next words leave his mouth, you canât help but agree with them, the thought too beautiful in the throes of your desire to say no to. âI want to fill you up, bunny. Have another baby with you, as many as you want. So beautiful like this, but youâre even more beautiful heavy and pregnant, shit,â he moans, eyes screwed shut as he chases his own orgasm.
âYes, Binnie, fill me up. Come inside of me, give me another. Pretty please?â
Those two words are his undoing, the blade that severs the cord thatâs been slowly tightening in his stomach since he saw you in your dress five hours ago. He spills inside of you, your insides hot with his release. He doesnât let any part of it go to waste, fucking it into you until his hips canât go for much longer.
He lies beside you, both of your chests heaving. And while the moment was an amalgamation of intense passion, you both look at each other and laugh like teenagers. It takes you back to that first night, the first âI love you,â all the first youâve shared and the ones that are yet to come.
âYouâre my best friend, you know that, right?â He rubs your bare arm as he stares deeply into your eyes, more in love than he was a second ago. âI could not have found anyone better to be my wife and my childrenâs mother than you.â He kisses you on the forehead, his lips featherlight. âI love you.â
You may be incredibly hormonal, any words that make your heart seize up more than likely to cause a well of tears in your eyes. But these donât. They make your heart lighter, shoot all your fears down, and quell any insecurities that have sprung to the surface since the two of you have become parents.
âI love you, Binnie. In this lifetime and all the other ones,â you respond. You snuggle into his chest, feeling the tempo of his heartbeat against your ear.
Everyone told you both how hard having kids would be. You know youâre not in the home stretch, not in the slightest, but with Soobin, no mountain youâll come across is insurmountable.
All because heâs yours and youâre his.
@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy @hursheys
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#kvanity#k-films#kstrucknet#keopihausnet#lapydiariesnet#mdnet#choi soobin smut#choi soobin x reader#choi soobin fic#choi soobin fics#soobin smut#soobin x reader#soobin fic#soobin fics#txt smut#tomorrow x together smut#txt x reader#txt fic#txt fics#tomorrow x together fic#tomorrow x together fics#[ lexi's works ]
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Love Notes (Ch. 7)
Larissa Weems x musicteacher!Reader Finally an update!
AO3 link
âIs it actually you?â Larissaâs voice sounds hoarse, her breath hitching slightly. Youâre not sure if itâs due to her tears by the fountain earlier or if she is disappointed in the reveal. Her hands tremble at her sides, fingers curling as if to grasp onto something solid. Her blue eyes glisten with unspoken emotions, flickering between disbelief and cautious hope. Thereâs a vulnerability in her postureâa slight slouch of her shoulders, as though the weight of the moment has softened her usual poise.
Braving the unknown and attempting to control your own voice, you reply, âOf course.â You pause a moment, letting the warm, nutty aroma of the Weathervane wrap around you. âIâm a little surprised you never asked me directly. There were so many times I thought you had found me out.â
Silence.
The other woman seems puzzled. Itâs the closest emotion you can track from her featuresâslightly furrowed brows, eyes distant and focused downward, staring into space. After a long moment waiting for a response from Larissa, or even a change in her facial expression, doubt gnaws from within your chest. Nervous explanations threaten to escape your lips, each word clawing at the back of your throat, desperate to fill the heavy silence. Your fingers begin nervously tracing the rim of your mug while your mind races, replaying every interaction that could have betrayed your secret, every glance Larissa might have misread. You think back to that day in Nevermoreâs library when Larissaâs gaze lingered a moment too long on the notebook you hastily shut, its pages filled with annotations about her favorite songs. Or the time in the corridor when her lips curved into a puzzled smile as she caught you humming a tune she had once mentioned in passing. Every glance, every hesitationâit all feels like a series of missed revelations.
The weight of her unspoken thoughts press down on you, and you fight the urge to blurt out all your anxieties. You feel your cheeks warm and word vomit bubbling up to shield your own potential hurt. You take a shaky breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions threatening to spill over.
âI know youâre probably shocked⌠Iâm sorry if this is uncomfortable for you or if youâre disappointed. I promise I havenât been preying on our closeness or friendship. I admire you so much, and I didnât want to push you away and lose our friendship by saying anything. I understand if you feel betrayed. I guess I took the cowardâs way out not confessing sooner.â
As you speak, Larissaâs confused look turns into a frown. She brings her eyes up to yours, and you try not to become shy under her gaze. Thankfully, determination wins out over worry, and you hold firm when meeting Larissaâs eyes.
âWhen you were poisoned, I vowed to take a chanceâto finally let myself get close to you.â You let in more emotion than intended while confessing the next part. âYou were almost gone, Larissa. After the nightshade incident, I saw how much it affected you. How much you carry, day in and day out, to keep Nevermore running. I just⌠wanted to let you know someone noticed. That someone cared."
Catching you off guard, Larissa finally utters, âWhat about the florist?â She needs to methodically respond or bring up each point to clear her head of the mess inside.
âWhat do you mean what about the florist? James?â
Now it was Larissaâs turn to question herself. âI thought you two were an item.â Larissa attempts to keep her voice from sounding accusatory or too affected.
A shocked kind of relief comes over you as you process Larissaâs worry and justification. In response, you tease, âHe was helping me plan the surprise for you. Or did you think I could magically summon flowers as one of my powers?â
A blush touched Larissaâs cheeks. She wasnât used to being wrong, and certainly not in a way where others might poke fun at the circumstance. âNo⌠IâŚâ Larissa hesitated, her hands twisting nervously at the fabric of her gloves. Her usual poise was nowhere to be found. âI suppose I let my imagination⌠run away with me.â
You tilt your head, a small smile playing on your lips despite the tension. âLarissa Weems? Jealous? I didnât think you had it in you.â A smile threatens at your lips.
The blush on Larissaâs face deepens, andshe straightens her posture, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. âI am not jealous. I simply⌠misinterpreted the situation.â
âIf you say so,â you tease gently, though your heart is pounding.
Larissaâs eyes meet yours again, and the vulnerability in them makes your teasing fade immediately. Sheâs still uncertainâhesitant in a way youâve never seen before. Her voice is quieter this time as she asks, âWhy me?â
Your features soften, and you reach forward over the table to take her fidgeting hand in yours. âWhy not you? Youâre brilliant, headstrong, compassionate, and⌠gods, Larissa, youâre captivating. I couldnât keep this to myself any longer. You deserve to know how extraordinary you are.â You continue to explain, âEven though I had been wanting to, Enid is actually the one who tipped the scales in favor of me confessing. Sheâs quite perceptive when she wants to be. Must be the gossip blog eye.â
Larissaâs lips part slightly, but no words come out. The emotions in her eyes are too numerous to nameâhope, doubt, fear, and something that looks a little like longing. Sheâs searching your face for something, though youâre not entirely sure what.
Before you can gain clarity on her thoughts, she asks, âHow did you do it?â Larissa gestures to the wall where you appeared in the Weathervane.
You knew Larissa hadnât known about your ability to phase. You didnât technically disclose that in your interview process for the music professor job. âAh, well, itâs never come up in our discussions about music. Itâs matter manipulation. Itâs actually why I am able to create music so easily. Iâm technically manipulating the sound waves in the air.â
You pause briefly, gauging her reaction before continuing. âItâs more than sound, though. I can phase through solid objects by breaking down my molecular structure and slipping between the spaces in matter. Itâs⌠not as simple as it sounds, unfortunately. It requires immense focus and control, and if Iâm not careful, I could destabilize the matter around me.â
Larissaâs brows furrow in fascination, her earlier confusion replaced by awe. She glances between your hands and your face, a flicker of wonder breaking through her usual composure. The weight of the revelation settles in her expression, a mix of admiration and disbelief. âYouâve been living with this⌠and using it so effortlessly,â she finally murmurs, her voice soft, almost reverent. âThatâs incredible. Youâve been using this ability all along to create those⌠those beautiful compositions?â
You nod, smiling warmly at Larissaâs words. âYes. Each note, each harmony, is carefully crafted by manipulating the vibrations in the air. Itâs like painting with sound.â
A soft chuckle escapes her lips. âNo wonder your music feels so alive. Itâs a part of you.â
The sincerity in her voice sends more warmth through you, and you lower your gaze, feeling a little shy under her praise. âItâs not always easy,â you admit, unsure of how to proceed. âSometimes, itâs overwhelmingâhearing and feeling everything at once. But when I focus, itâs like⌠everything falls into place. Especially when I was creating the playlists for you. I wanted them to be perfect.â
Larissaâs other hand reaches out, her fingers squeezing yours. âThey are perfect. And so are you.â
Her words hang in the air, and for a moment, the world seems to pause. The sounds of espresso shots being pulled and customers chattering fades into the background, leaving only the two of you in this suspended moment of understanding and connection.
You sense Larissaâs curiosity growing as you two sit together for a few moments, her focus sharpening as she begins to grasp the depth of your abilities. âHow far can it go?â she asks, tilting her head slightly. âYour powers, I mean. What else can you do?â
You take a moment to consider your answer, glancing at your hands as if they hold the key to what you want to say. âItâs⌠complicated. The more I practice, the more I understand. I can amplify soundwaves to create music that resonates on an emotional level. But Iâve also used it to calm people in panicked statesâto harmonize the vibrations around them and bring peace to their bodies. Itâs like tuning an instrument, but on a much larger scale for peopleâs limbic and nervous systems.â
Larissaâs eyes widen. âYou can⌠calm people? Affect their emotions?â
You nod slowly. âNot in a controlling way, but more like⌠aligning their energy. Kind of like how humming and singing can stimulate oneâs vagus nerve. Itâs subtle, and Iâd never use it without consent. But yes, I can help others find balance.â
Her expression shifts, a mix of admiration and intrigue. âAnd the phasing? Could you⌠could you go anywhere?â
âNot quite anywhere,â you say with a small laugh. âThere are limits. Itâs exhausting, and certain materials make it harderâdenser metals, for example. But Iâm learning. Itâs as much about knowing my limits as it is about pushing them.â
Larissaâs hand tightens slightly around yours, grounding you in the moment. âYouâre extraordinary,â she says, her voice soft but firm. âI hope you know that.â
Your cheeks flush, but you donât look away. âComing from you, that means everything.â For the first time, you feel completely seenânot just for your powers or your music, but for everything you are. And in Larissaâs eyes, you see that same vulnerability mirrored back at you.
After a moment, Larissa exhales shakily. âThis is⌠a lot to take in.â
You nod, not sure whether or not to remove your hand from hers. âI understand. Iâm not expecting an answer or anything right now. I just⌠I needed you to know.â
Larissaâs leg underneath the table brushes against yours. The touch is featherlight, but it sends a jolt through you. âThank you,â she says softly, her voice almost trembling. âFor everything.â
You rub her hands gently with your thumbs and offer her a small smile. âAlways.â
Looking into your eyes thoughtfully before returning to the drinks in front of you two, Larissa suggests, âShall I get us seconds, and you can tell me all about it?â
For the first time since the conversation began, you feel hope bloom in your chest. Whatever happens next, youâve taken the first step. And that, you think, is enough for now.
You nod, but before Larissa can move, the door to the cafĂŠ opens abruptly, letting in a gust of cold air. A familiar face entersâa student from Nevermore, wide-eyed and clearly distressed.
âHeadmistress Weems,â the student says, their voice shaky. âWe need you. Something⌠something strange is happening back at school.â
Larissaâs expression sharpens immediately, the warmth between you momentarily replaced by her authoritative demeanor. She glances at you, an unspoken question in her eyes.
âLetâs go,â you say, already standing. Whatever was happening at Nevermore, you had no doubt youâd face it together.
â
The drive back to the school is tense, filled with the low hum of Larissaâs thoughts as she grips the steering wheel tightly. The student sits in the back, shifting nervously. You glance at Larissa, and sheâs already deep in her role as Headmistress, her jaw set and eyes focused on the road.
As you arrive at the gates, you notice an eerie glow coming from the east wing of the campus. Students are gathered outside in small clusters, whispering nervously. The air is charged, static almost crackling as you step out of the car.
âWhatâs going on?â Larissa asks a nearby teacher, her voice calm but commanding.
The teacher, a young man with wide eyes that youâve seen around the corridors, stammers, âI-itâs the greenhouse. Somethingâs happening inside. Itâs⌠alive.â
âAlive?â you echo, stepping closer.
The teacher nods, visibly shaken. âThe plants are⌠growing out of control. Theyâve broken through the walls and windows. I donât know how to stop it. All I could think to do was evacuate.â
Larissa turns to you, her expression grim and serious. âWe need to contain this. Can your powers help?â
You nod, adrenaline already surging. âIâll try.â
After ensuring other faculty secures the other entrances to the area, you and Larissa head toward the greenhouse. The closer you get, the more chaotic the scene becomes. The vines thrash wildly, scraping against the greenhouse walls with a screeching sound that sets your teeth on edge. Shards of glass crunch beneath your feet, mingled with the earthy scent of disturbed soil and an unnatural, sickly-sweet aroma. You two have to take pains to not trip over bits of broken stone across the ground. The air hums with tension, punctuated by sharp cracks as the plants force their way through wooden beams. A low, guttural groan emanates from deep within, as if the greenhouse itself is alive and in pain, urging you to hurry. Vines continue to twist and writhe, stretching toward the sky as if searching for something.
âStay behind me,â Larissa instructs, but you shake your head.
You swallow a scoff. âWeâre doing this together.â
As you step inside, the air grows thick with the scent of earth and something sweet, almost cloying. The plants seem to sense your presence, their movements becoming more erratic. You close your eyes, focusing on the vibrations around you, tuning into the chaotic energy of the greenhouse.
âIâll work on de-escalating,â you say loudly over the noise, your voice steady despite the tension. âBut Iâll need your help if they fight back.â
Larissa nods, her confidence unwavering and her eyes narrowing. âLetâs do this.â
You extend your hands like a conductor, feeling the vibrations of the plants, their restless energy like a discordant symphony. Slowly, carefully, you begin to harmonize with them, sending waves of care and concern through the space. The vines hesitate, their movements slowing as if listening.
But then, a new surge of energy ripples through the greenhouse⌠stronger and darker than before. Something else is here, something angry.
âThereâs a source,â you say urgently, your voice strained. The pulsing energy of the greenhouse thrums in your chest, a heavy, discordant beat that resonates uncomfortably. You can feel it lashing at the edges of your senses⌠a strange, dark rhythm that grows stronger as you focus on it. Itâs as if the source itself is alive, and with each beat, it radiates anger and desperation, sending waves of hostility through the writhing plants around you. Your eyes are closed in fierce concentration, searching for the cause. âSomething is controlling them.â You grimace before continuing, âItâs overwhelming,â you add while opening your eyes and glancing at Larissa, âbut I can pinpoint it.â
Larissaâs eyes scan the room, and she points to a dark mass in the center of the chaos, pulsating with unnatural light. âThere.â
You look to Larissa and then to the area of her gaze; you inhale a deep breath and nodâsteeling yourself. Together, you and Larissa move toward the source, determined to face whatever lies ahead.
The source in the center pulses erratically, its light shifting between crimson and black while the rest of the greenhouse seems to grow darker. The ground beneath your feet trembles as the plants around it writhe with renewed aggression, as though they sense your intent. Twisted, gnarled vines guard the pulsating mass of energy, reaching out at you two with sharp thorns. The closer you get, the heavier the air becomes, thick with the tang of iron and an oppressive, unearthly heat. Larissa grips your arm briefly, her expression steely but edged with concern.
âWeâre definitely close,â you murmur, the vibrations from the source nearly overwhelming your senses. You focus harder, threading calming energy into the space, though the resistance is dangerously palpable. The massâa gnarled root-like structure entwined with glowing tendrilsâreacts violently, emitting a sharp, dissonant sound that sends a jolt of pain through your temples.
âItâs protecting itself,â Larissa says urgently, stepping forward. With a swift, deliberate motion, she pulls a small silver knife from the folds of her coat, its blade etched with ancient runes. âDo you trust me?â
You peer into the piercing eyes of this woman who has slowly transfixed herself into your life, spilling into and filling all the little gaps within it. Some that you didnât even know you wanted filled. Breathlessly, you respond, âYes.â
Satisfied and seemingly making a mental note of something due to the expression on her face, Larissa continues, âCan you disrupt it while I try to sever the connection?â
You nod, bracing yourself as you extend your arms again. The air around the mass is chaotic, a storm of discordant vibrations that resist your attempts to harmonize them. Sweat beads on your forehead as you push harder, weaving threads of order into the cacophony. After grueling minutes that seem like hours, the vines closest to the mass begin to falter, their thrashing movements growing sluggish.
Larissa moves with precision, her knife slicing through the tendrils feeding into the core of the mass. Her jaw tightens with determination, and a flicker of something fierce glints in her eyes. Each cut seems deliberate, as though sheâs channeling every ounce of her strength and focus into severing the connection. You can almost sense her resolve, a quiet intensity radiating from her. This isnât just about the greenhouseâitâs about protecting the students, the school, and perhaps even you. She doesnât falter, even as the mass retaliates with bursts of angry energy. Each cut elicits a shriek from the greenhouse, the sound echoing like a wounded animal. The ground shudders violently, and for a moment, you lose your balance, falling to one knee. The sourceâs crimson light flares, blinding and searing hot, and you feel its fury lash out at you.
âHold on!â Larissa calls out, her voice steady despite the chaos. Her final strike severs the last connection, and the mass collapses inward with a deafening roar, its light extinguished. The vines that had crawled around you during the encounter go limp, their aggressive energy dissipating into silence.
You collapse back, breathless and trembling, as the oppressive weight in the air begins to lift. The tension that had wrapped around your chest like a vise slowly eases, leaving you lightheaded but strangely calm. Your fingers dig briefly into the cool soil beneath you, grounding yourself against the lingering tremors in your body. Each inhale feels sharper, cleaner, as though the air has been renewed. Relief washes over you in waves, mingled with an almost surreal disbelief that itâs over as quickly as it began. Larissa kneels beside you, her face a mixture of relief and exhaustion.
âAre you alright?â she asks, her hand coming to lightly rest on the side of your face, brushing tenderly against your jaw.
You nod weakly, managing a small smile. âWe did it.â
The two of you sit in the aftermath, the greenhouse eerily still. Outside, the muffled sounds of students and faculty stir as the danger subsides. You exchange a glance with Larissa, and for a moment, the world feels suspended once moreâthis time, in quiet triumph.
As the silence settles in the greenhouse, your gaze drifts back to the crumpled remains of the pulsating mass. The memory of its crimson and black glow lingers in your mind, vivid and haunting. What was it? You reach out instinctively with your senses, searching for any lingering traces of its energy, but thereâs nothingâjust an empty void where its chaotic presence once thrived.
âDo you think itâs truly gone?â you ask Larissa, your voice barely above a whisper.
She follows your line of sight, her lips pressed into a thin line. âI donât know,â she admits, her voice heavy with thought. âBut whatever it was, it felt⌠deliberate. As though it had a purpose.â
A shiver runs down your spine as you recall the way the mass seemed to lash out, not just in anger, but in defiance. The way the violent energy seemed to resist every attempt to subdue it. âIt wasnât just growing wildly,â you murmur, almost to yourself. âIt was looking for something.â
Larissa looks at you sharply, her brows knitting together. âLooking for what, exactly?â
You shake your head, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. âI donât know, but it didnât feel random. That energy, it was⌠searching. Reaching.â You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. âAlmost like it was trying to connect.â
Larissaâs gaze hardens, her eyes narrowing in thought. For another long moment, neither of you speaks, the weight of the ruined greenhouse surrounding you, punctuated only by the occasional creak of broken glass and rubble settling. Finally, Larissa rises, brushing dirt from her coat with a slow, deliberate motion.
âIf it was searching,â she says quietly, âwe need to find out what it wantedâand why it was here.â Her expression is unreadable.
You nod again in agreement, though unease still coils tightly in your chest. Whatever answers the mass held, you know they wonât come easily. âDo you think itâs connected to the school? Or something outside of it?â you ask, voice tinged with uncertainty.
Larissa tilts her head slightly, considering. âWhatever it was, it wasnât natural. And the fact that it was here, on Nevermore groundsâŚâ She trails off, her jaw tightening. âWe canât ignore it.â
The weight of her words settles heavily over you. The questions that the mass of tendrils leaves behind feel as tangled and complex as the vines it controlled. One thing is certain: the danger isnât over.
â
Tagging: @lilsmeaux, @suckerforcate, @rickistheman, @tundra1029, @aster-loves-gwen, @justcallmelittleone, @poorwritingandstalecoffee, @lvinhs, @one-pining-queer, @kimiinou, @bobia13, @gwendolinechristieiscute, @kay-liah-scope, @readingtheentrails, @a-queen-and-her-throne, @weemssapphic, @ctrlamira, @im-a-carnivorous-plant, @winterfireblond, @gwendolinechristiesnumberonegirl, @enchantressb, @machi-avelli, @alder-saan.
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for updates or have your tag taken off for future posts. :)
#love notes#chapter 7#larissa weems#larissa weems x reader#principal weems#larissa x reader#principal larissa weems#wednesday#ao3#fanfiction#gwendoline christie#music teacher#nevermore academy#boss/employee relationship#principal/teacher#mix cd#slow burn#mutual pining#angst
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the one iâve been missing || chwe hansol
content warning: none || masterlist
âthank you maâam. i hope you enjoy the rest of your day.â the waitress smirks, handing me back my card and receipt for my check.
âthank you. i hope you have a good day too.â i return her smile and push my seat out heading towards the exit.
i turn the corner reaching the elevators. a small group of people scurry off the platform as a woman holds it open for me. press the level i needed to reach when i heard a deep voice.
âhey! wait! hold the elevator!â
the elevator start to close its doors but i quickly hit the button to remain open. a guy dressed in a white tee, a pair of jeans and converse with his baseball cap and headphones walked in. he shoots me a quick thank you for before putting on his zipped up jacket.
i look up from my phone when i smell a familiar citrus and woodsy scent.
âvernon?â i raised an eyebrow.
ây-yeah.â he stared at me as if i invaded his personal space. ây/n? w-what are you doing here?â
âi came here for a lunch date with myself. you?â
âthere is a record shop just a few doors down from the restaurant.â
âitâs been a while since i last saw you. is everything
âsome things have been different. you know touring the world and all with twelve other dudes.â
âso youâre still in a long committed relationship with those twelve other dudes and doing what you love.â i chuckled.
ây-yeah.â he half laughs. âwhat about you? i canât remember the last time i saw you.â
âi have been traveling around. itâs time consuming being
âthis is my floor. iâd love to see you again and the guys. thatâs if theyâre in town with you too.â
âyeah, we have a few days off. uhmm, how about we hang out tomorrow?â
i nod agreeing as vernon steps out of the elevator. âokay, just text me the details to your place and i will be around maybe noon.â
ââââââââ
âyou have to joking! that is not the best christmas movie!â vernon spat, taking another slice of pizza from the table.
i clutch my chest as if to gasped for air, âget out of my house! you will not slander my favorite christmas movie of all time.â
ây/n, the princess switch doesnât have much of a plot. home alone has a plot and itâs the best christmas movie. even elf has a better plot line than the princess switch.â
âi am suddenly realizing why we lost touch all these years.â
âwhatâs the princess switch?â
vernon face palms his forehead sliding down the couch dramatically. i scoff as his actions but ignored him to answer the question. vernon can pretend all he wants that he despises the princess switch but i know he secretly likes watching it with me.
ânonie! i am fine. we donât have to do anything. itâs whatever, kai went to the winter dance with vivienne and they will live happily ever after.â
âjust forget the dance. heâs not worth your time anyways. we can watch all three princess switch movies at my house.â his voice soft and warm trying to cheer me up.
âyou hate this movie.â i whined.
âyeah, but i hate seeing you sad even more. câmon, i have a bag of kettle corn with your name on it.â
âyou are willing to suffer through three movies to make me feel better?â
âthatâs what best friends are for, right?â
i chuckle reaching up to hug. he instantly wraps his arms around me giggling.
âââ
âif fiona and peter donât end up together then i will riot.â seokmin mumbles to josh.
i chuckle to myself sideyeing him and turn my attention to vernon. his body slouched down into the couch while hugging a pillow. his eyes laser focused on the tv screen and the corners of his lips rise.
on the tv fiona had just entered the cafeteria where her estranged mother was waiting for her. my eyes start to tear up hearing fiona talk about how she was let down by her mom not being present in her life and she walks out but decides to walk back to her. vernon didnât even look in my direction but he holds up a tissue for me. i smirk glancing at him and take the tissue. a loud sniffle comes from the other side of the couch as the credits roll. everyone turns their heads staring at seokmin who had tissues in his hands and tears streaming down his cheek.
âokay, weâve watched all three princess switched movies and home alone, now itâs time for everyone to decide which movie is best?â
vernon and i stood up in front of the tv while we asked josh, seokmin, seungkwan, dino, mingyu, jun, seungcheol and jeonghan. each member comments of which is their favorite movie to watch. we end up with a tie which meant josh is the tie breaker.
âi am sorry, y/n. i have to go with vernonâs pick.â josh says.
âthree to four, i win!â vernon cheers sticking his tongue out at me as the other disperse into their own conversation over dinner.
âwhatever. the princess switch is still my favorite movie. to each their own, i guess.â i crossed my arms against my chest.
âdo you want to bake some desserts like stacy in the princess switched?â he asked.
âand this is why youâre best friend.â i grin linking arms with him.
âwe are best friends because you have co dependency issues and havenât been able to let me go since the third grade.â
i laugh at his joke tossing a pillow in his direction. he throws his arms up protecting his head from my attacks. we go back and forth reminiscing over old memories together like the time i came home crying after a boy i liked rejected me or the time vernon thought he could run through the grass field before the sprinklers could turn on without getting wet. in the middle of laughing over old memories, an unknown overwhelming feeling hits me. i look up at vernon from my eyelashes as he hugs himself trying to catch his breath from laughing. a wave nostalgia hits me remembering the scene of fiona and her estranged mom except i was remembering how vernon and i have gone estranged.
âhey, is everything okay? youâre crying.â his voice filled with concern, wiping away a tear from the corner.
i smile at him. my eyes glossy mumbling, âyeah. i just missed you.â
âyouâve been here with me all day. i am not sure how youâre missing me.â
i roll my eyes at him before shoving his shoulder gently, âi meant, in general, loser. i missed spending time with you especially around the holiday season. itâs hits me more that we have grown distant.â
a few tears slip down my cheek as i sniffle. the guys all looked at one another and talk over one another to leave the living room. they scatter out of my apartment leaving vernon and i alone. a hollow hole sits in the chest making it hard to compose myself. vernon straighten his posture, his shoulders rigid as he wraps an arm around me.
ây/n, i am still here for you and i always will be. i havenât gone anywhere.â he reassures me.
âi know. itâs just things have been different. you know theyâve changed, itâs not the same like before when we used to always hang out and see each other. now we have lives that we gotta live, even if it means we arenât a part of each otherâs everyday. itâs just sucks a little more on the day when i miss you, thatâs all. i am not trying to be too mushy or anything.â
i wipe away my tears finally taking a breath. for years i have grown comfortable with how our dynamic in our friendship has changed. slowly vernon stopped texting me, but i canât fully blame him. i have also withdrawn from him too. i got scared waiting to see if he would make time for me again and i decided to board up my heart so no one could break it.
after running into vernon after years of barely contacting one another, the feelings of longing make a surprise appearance. my heart slowly cracks thinking about all the broken slow replied exts and cancelled hang outs which never got rescheduled.
vernon squeezes my shoulder pulling me closer to him and rest his head against mine. ây/n,i have missed you too. i agree itâs not not the same like it was before. things have changed and i will fault in that for growing apart from you. i just want to remind you that even though life does take over youâll always be my person. no one gets me like you do, so i donât ever want to lose you. youâre my safe place and best friend.â
âvernon, you jerk! youâre not supposed to say these things to me.â i cried, smacking his arm. âyouâre my safe place too. i just miss having you around and feeling connected with you. nowadays it just feels like we are casual acquaintances and i donât like itâ
âhow about once a month we plan a weekend hang out together?â he suggested.
âi am not sure i want to see your face once a month.â i tap my finger against my chin out of contemplation. âwait! how can we even hang out once a weekend? your schedule is literally packed throughout the entire year.â
âokay maybe a weekend is a bit of a stretch considering we are both out traveling with packed schedules. we can have weekly facetime calls to catch up and talk. also if one of us is in town then we can meet up.â
âsounds like a doable plan, mr. chwe.â i grin looking at him. i held my pinky up to him, âto being acquaintance to best friends again.â
ây/n, weâve always been best friends.â he laughs.
âokay, to finding our way back to each other.â
he links his pinky with mine, âto finding our way back to each other.â
#seventeen#seventeen scenario#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen x yn#seventeen x reader#seventeen drabbles#seventeen vernon#svt drabbles#svt imagines#svt scenario#svt scenarios#svt x yn#svt x reader#vernon scenarios#vernon imagines#vernon x reader#vernon x yn#vernon scenario#vernon drabble
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compos mentis 4
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings:Â this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, chronic health issues, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: After a long court case, your mother stays attached to her lawyer, bringing even more contention into your life.
Characters: Andy Barber
Note: this decrepit pervert is back.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. Iâm trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I havenât forgotten those!) Please do not just put âmoreâ. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. đ
Youâre restless. Whatâs worse, is you have no energy. You never really do. Living is the most exhausting thing youâve ever done.Â
You lean in the window sill, half hunched as you stare out at the suburban street. Itâs a nice neighbourhood. Your mother lives in a condo, on one of the highest floors. You hate it. This place isnât so bad. Itâd be nice if it was just you.Â
That last thought makes you sad. You donât know that youâll ever be able to be alone. You hate being such a burden. What you hate most, is feeling like youâre on a leash. Sometimes literally as your oxygen tube keeps you bound to the tank.Â
All your existence, thereâs been something wrong with you. In high school, it got so much worse. You didnât even realise until your mother pointed it out. Then the appointments doubled, the tests too, and it never stopped. Will it ever?Â
Youâre trapped in a holding pattern. If living is so difficult, should you even try? Thatâs a bad thought but you canât help it. You see your mom, you see Andy, and they donât need all these medicines or this thing to breathe for them. They have lived full lives, they have jobs and a home. You have nothing.Â
You turn away from the window. The tall trees and peaked rooftops are no longer so beautiful. Theyâre just another reminder of everything you donât and will never have.Â
A knock at the door startles you. You cross the room and inch it open. You peer out, disappointed to find Andy again. How long is your mom going to sleep?Â
âHey, sweetheart, I was thinking you might want to come with me. It's pretty quiet around here,â he says.Â
âCome with... where?â You rasp.Â
âI was going to go to the pharmacy and get your script filled, like your mom said,â he explains and holds up the doctorâs paper. âFound it in her purse.âÂ
âOh, uh...â you hesitate. You donât know what to do. That heâs even asking makes you feel obligated. âSure, I... okay.âÂ
âTake your time, Iâll warm the car up,â he assures you. âAnything I can help with?âÂ
âNo, sir, Iâll grab my bag.âÂ
You shut the door before he can respond. You pause and feel bad. You hope that didnât seem intentional. You go and grab your belt bag. You check that everything is in it, then drag your tank back to the door.Â
You come out and the hall is empty. You go around to the bathroom and rinse off your face. You donât have a toothbrush so you use your finger to spread some paste around your teeth and rinse your mouth. Youâre overly aware of your day-old outfit. You do what you can for your hair then resign yourself to being the same mess you always are.Â
You take the stairs slowly. One at a time as you prevent the wheels of the tank from thumping. Andyâs house is so nice, you donât want to ruin it. You get to the front door and pull on your jacket. You put on your sneakers and awkwardly angle out the front door.Â
The SUV whirs in the driveway. Before you can get to the first step, Andy is there. He helps with the tank and sets it on the flat ground. You quickly take the handle and thank him.Â
âYou alright?â He asks. You wish he wouldnât be so worried. Your mother doesnât ever ask, only if itâs for show.Â
âFine,â you assure him.Â
You roll the tank past him and he calls after you as you get to the SUV. âHey, you donât gotta sit in the back.âÂ
âUh, right,â you say.Â
You go around to the passenger door and he opens it for you. Once again, he lifts the tank. Before you can react, he does the same to you. You lurch up into the seat and wriggle until he lets you go. He doesnât seem to notice your discomfort.Â
You sit straight and steady the tank between your knees. He shuts the door and you get the seatbelt clicked in. As he climbs in the other side, you take out your vaseline and smear it under your nose. Itâs particularly raw this morning.Â
âShoot, is that from the AC? I can turn it down.âÂ
âNo, itâs... okay,â you stare through the windshield. You want to get this done and over with. Your brows furrow at the thought of your mom waking up to the empty house.Â
âWhatâs the matter?â He asks.Â
âNothing,â you insist.Â
âYou look worried,â he says.Â
âI... my mom. Sheâs in rough shape.âÂ
âHungover,â he clucks, âitâs a good thing you donât take after her with that.âÂ
You nod, not sure what to say. He does up his seatbelt and checks the mirrors. He shifts and backs out of the driveway.Â
âFeel free to put on some music. I donât think you want to listen to my oldies,â he chuckles.Â
âItâs okay,â you hug yourself with one arm, your other hand on the tank.Â
The silence buzzes in your ears. Itâs too late now to change your mind. Besides, youâre so indecisive about your music. You wouldnât exactly brag about your taste either.Â
The drive stretches on as you huddle into the door, distracting yourself with the passing light poles, houses, and so on. You donât know this area. Itâs not anywhere near your usual pharmacy. You often wait in the car when you do go with your mom.Â
He pulls up along the curb and park. Itâs a nice quaint street in the neighbourhood. Thereâs a park on the corner and an organic store on the opposite side. You peek out at the local pharmacyâs moniker, hand-painted unlike glowing banner of the department store where your mom usually goes.Â
âShould be able to get this filled,â he says as he shuts off the engine.Â
You just nod and hum. He gets out quickly, easily. You envy that. You canât do anything easily. He comes around as you push the door open. He once more brings down your tank but youâre certain to climb out on your own. You nearly stagger as you do.Â
You wheel out of the way as he closes the door. You look around at the other pedestrians. A woman with a stroller, a family just across the way babbling in glee. You turn away before the scene can make you morose.Â
Andy leads you to the pharmacy door and pulls it open with a chime. He lets you in first. Thereâs only a few aisles inside, the pharmacistâs counter is at the back, another till near the front where they sell chocolates and candy.Â
You linger until Andy points you down the center row. You go ahead of him and stop before the long counter. He unfolds the prescription as he greats the man behind it boldly. Good mornings and niceties you struggle to get right.Â
âHm, we have these on hand but itâll be a wait. Been a busy morning,â the pharmacist explains.Â
âThatâs fine, we can keep ourselves busy.â Andy says. You squirm. You can? Waiting that long will only add to the tension that makes your chest even tighter.Â
You back up as he turns around. He looks around for a moment, as if he thinks you wondered off, then smiles at you. âThereâs a cafe across the street, how about it?âÂ
âI donât... drink coffee,â you say.Â
âI know, sweetheart, I remember,â he gently strokes your shoulder, âthey have tea, too. Or smoothies. You must be hungry too.âÂ
âI... if you want to, I guess...â you shrug.Â
âYou know, Iâm not your mom. I wonât say no,â he intones. âYou donât have to be so nervous.âÂ
âI know, I... Iâm sorry.âÂ
âAnd you donât need to be sorry,â he counters.Â
You almost apologise again, only to fill your cheeks with air and nod. You feel like you should be though. Like everything you do is a disappointment.Â
You go back down the middle aisle. Andy reaches past you to hold the door again. You come out and narrowly avoid a collision. You wait for the family of three to pass by before Andy nudges you to the curb. He takes your free hand as he tugs you with him, jaywalking through the lazy traffic.Â
The effort is enough to make your head spin. You get your wheels over the other curb and sway. Andy doesnât let go. He takes you past the patio area of the cafe and swings back the door before he releases you, pointing you within.Â
The smell of coffee, the grind of a machine, and the chatter of diners greets you. You wait behind the two teenage girls at the counter as Andy comes up next to you. He stands close but you assume itâs because itâs such a tight space.Â
âDo you want to find somewhere to sit?â He wonders.Â
âNo, Iâm okay,â you say.Â
âSure, uh, so what do you want?âÂ
You look up at the hand-written menu. You might get a tea after all.Â
âThe brioche egg sandwich is one of my favourites,â he says.Â
âYou come here... a lot?â You wonder.Â
âSure. I like to run in the mornings. Iâll grab a coffee on my cool down. And weekends Iâll have breakfast. Your momâs usually still asleep if sheâs around,â he tuts.Â
âRight, uh... that sounds fine. Brioche.âÂ
The girls go to the further end of the counter and Andy waves you forward. The barista greets him by name. Sheâs very pretty. She has amber coloured braids with a zigzag pattern and cute freckles over her cheeks. You want to ask how she did her hair like that but you donât want to be rude.Â
âAndy, how are you?â She chirps in recognition.Â
âGood, we were just walking through the neighbourhood,â he says, You adjust the tube under your nose self-consciously. The barista is gorgeous and reminds you of everything youâre not.Â
âOh, is this your fiancee?â She asks. âSheâs finally come around.âÂ
Andy chuckles and you blanch. He doesnât offer a protest and neither do you. You wait for him to correct her. He doesnât.Â
âSweetheart, what did you want to drink?â He looks at you and you nearly choke.Â
âCan I have the pomegranate tea, please?â Even your voice sounds ugly.Â
âSure, what size, hon?âÂ
âSmall,â you croak out.Â
âSmall pomegrante, and your usual?â She asks Andy.Â
âYep, and two of the brioche breakfast sandwiches. Oh, and something sweet for dessert. Those cherry tarts look delicious,â he points to the display.âÂ
âGot it, anything else?â She taps the till screen.Â
âThatâs it,â he slips out his card and waits. He selects a tip amount before he taps, the machine beeping in acceptance. You spy the total right before it disappears. Oh, thatâs expensive.Â
âIâll bring it to you, Andy,â she smiles brightly, âyou two enjoy.âÂ
Andy takes your hand again before you can react. He brings you to the table and you sit across from him, right by the window. You feel like youâre on display. You hate it.Â
You push the tube into your nose as you think then trail your hand down the length. You stare off into the distance. You donât know, it feels weird. It feels like heâs doing too much. Like maybe he feels bad for you.Â
âWhatcha thinking about?â He interrupts your trance.Â
You flinch and look at him, then avert your gaze to the table.Â
âYou didnât...â you begin then shake your head.Â
âWhat?â He prompts.Â
âNothing.âÂ
âGo on, sweetie, you donât have to be shy with me. You can say whatever you need,â he leans forward as he crosses his arms over the table, âyou know, your mom told me youâve never really had a father figure. Iâm here to help, to support you.âÂ
You nod and pick at your dry lip then stop yourself, hiding your hands under the table. âYou-- that woman... she thought Iâthat weâyou didnât say no.âÂ
âOh, I didnât want to embarrass her,â he laughs. âItâs funny, donât you think?âÂ
âYeah...â you nod at your lap. âIt is really... funny. No one would really want to marry me.âÂ
You cover your mouth as the thought slips out. You shake your head. Why did you say it?Â
âHuh? Sweetheart?â He leans in even closer, âyou donât think thatâs true, do you?âÂ
You shrug and peel your hand away, chewing on your sleeve as you slump low in your seat.Â
âYouâre a nice girl. Pretty too.âÂ
âIâm not,â you murmur into your cuff. âYou donât have to lie.âÂ
âWell who says youâre not?â He urges. You shake your head again.Â
âYour mother?â He suggests. You shake your head harder. She would be livid if you told him that she did. He clicks his tongue, âwell, however it is, donât listen to them.â He reaches across to you, âhey, sweetheart, look at me.â You obey, trembling in humiliation, âyou are very pretty.âÂ
#andy barber#dark andy barber#dark!andy barber#andy barber x reader#series#compos mentis#defending jacob#au#dark fic#dark!fic#fic
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Home
Loki x mum! Reader
18+| contains alcohol, loss, Loki and reader share a child. Iâm sorry I havenât written anything in AGESSS
You quickly turned the radio off as the news reporter reeled off a string of recent burglaries that had happened in your neighbourhood. Grabbing your scarf, you adjusted it around your neck as you glanced at yourself in the mirror, offering a half smile as you tried not to focus on the bags colouring the skin beneath your eyes. You took a breath, your smile widening uncannily as your daughter padded towards you, half of her glove dangling off of her small hand.
âIs daddy going to be there?â She asked excitedly as you knelt down, helping her with her glove.
âNoânot todayâ you hesitated âbut oneâone day heâll be homeâ you rushed out, not believing your own words. The truth was, Loki hadnât been home in almost a year. You didnât know when he was going to come back, no one did. Unless they did and were just refusing to tell you. You took a steadying breath, cursing the fact that you no longer had the clearance to find out how the mission was going before doing what you had been doing since the day you lost communication. What you were taught. Assuming the worst. You faked a smile again, composing yourself before leaving.
Once you had come home from shopping, you unpacked before continuing the routine you had adopted since Loki had left. Making dinner, alone. Feeding your daughter, alone. Putting her to bed, alone. Showering, alone. Having a glass of whine, which was a step you had added recently, alone. Going to bed, alone and cuddling a picture of Loki. A tear began to pool in the corner of your eye as you looked at the picture, a memory of him overtaking you.
âIf you ever need me, just say my name three timesâ he assured, squeezing your shoulder.
You closed your eyes, holding the picture against you as his name left your trembling lips. You called it three times. Hoping, praying that heâd hear, that heâd come. But alas. Silence met your awaiting ears.
âLiarâ you sniffled through tears before begging sleep to overtake you.
By the time the morning came, the warmish glow of the winter sun had covered your room, waking you up before your daughter did. The morning routine was similar to the night one in the sense that it was done alone now.
âWeâre going to see Santa today babyâ you smiled, pressing the porcelain mug against your lips as you sipped your coffee.
âYayyyâ she exclaimed, her spoon almost flying out of her hand as she threw her arms in the air.
Two hours and another cup of coffee later, there you were in the mall, the line for Santa's grotto alarmingly long. You took a breath, looking at the workers dressed as elves as they spoke to some of the children further up in the line than you.
âAre you excited to see Santa?â One of them exclaimed, smiling widely at your daughter who answered with the same amount of enthusiasm.
You narrowed your gaze slightly the closer you got to the front of the queue, the elves beginning to look slightly more real. You were no stranger to elves. Loki had taken you on a tour of the nines when you were an agent and Alfheim was one of them. But this wasnât Alfheim.
âQuit staring ladyâ one of them interrupted your suspicions as you reached the front of the queue.
âSorryâ you spoke, clearing your throat.
Sitting on Santaâs lap, your daughter began listing the things she wanted for Christmas as you took some pictures before her time was over.
âAnd what about you?â Santa asked, surprising you.
âWhat?â You answered just above a whisper.
âWhat is it you want this Christmas?â He smiled generously, your eyes meeting as all words escaped you.
âI-I donâtââ you began.
âYou canât lie to meâ he reminded you, your gazes still connected as you lost yourself in this stare.
âLokiâ you finally utter, truthfully. âI want Lokiâ
âNextâ one of the elves called before you could even register what had happened. As if on autopilot, you picked your daughter up before heading home before performing the night routine, however this night, you felt off.
The following day rolled around and you took your daughter to her grandparents house.
âYou are looking after yourself rightâ your mum asked, her eyes darting around your face.
âYes mumâ you huffed.
âYou know you are still my babyâ she reminded you.
âYes mumâ you answered in a softer tone.
âIâll be round tomorrow with the angelâ she smiled, looking at your daughter âdonât forget to stuff the turkey and preheat the oven toââ
âYes mumâ you quickly interrupted âbye mum.â
Getting home, you poured yourself a glass of wine before you began your food prep. Downing the liquid, you pourned yourself another, almost halfway through the bottle before pouring another. You began feeling what could only be described as tipsy before accidentally burning one of your fingers on the pot.
âOuchâ you yelped, running to the sink before putting it under cold water.
As you covered your finger in water, you looked down at it, unable to help the tears that escaped you, your eyes mirroring the tap. Just before you began to cry even more, you heard a crash upstairs, immediately sobering up as you turned the tap off. Suddenly the thousands you had spent on training to become an agent and the years you had spent on the frontline kicked in as you stealthily walked up the stairs. Whoever had broken in chose the wrong house you thought to yourself, remembering the burglaries. Following the noise, it led you to your bedroom as you carefully pushed open the door before gasping, your heart falling to the ground as your eyes met Lokiâs dishevelled body laying in your bed. You honed in on the gash on his forehead, sprinting for gauze before you rushed to his side, clearing the blood. Disbelief shrouded you as you began to shake him awake.
âLokiii, Lokiiiâ you called, half wondering how strong that wine was.
âY/n?â You heard fondly, quietly as he stirred awake, you wrapping your arms around him.
The two of you embraced, no questions needing to be asked as your lips met. No words left either of your lips as you helped Loki into the bathroom, undressing him before turning the shower on. You didnât leave his side, not wanting this potential mirage to fade into nothingness, not wanting Loki to leave again. As you guided him back into the bedroom, you still asked no questions, they could wait until tomorrow.
Wrapping your arms around one another, you embraced, the warmth of Lokiâs arms around you, intoxicating you. Taking a deep breath, you breathed him in, your lips pressing against his exposed chest. You felt his lips on your forehead as you moved closer against one another. Home, you felt home.
Had to take a break from writing my assignment to write something Christmassy. Hope you enjoyed!! And I hope you have a wonderful Christmas if you celebrate â¤ď¸
Tags in comments
#loki x reader#loki x female reader#loki fanfic#loki (marvel)#loki fanfiction#loki#loki imagines#loki laufeyson imagine#loki marvel#loki oneshot
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a holiday meet-cute
robin buckley x fem!reader
another fic for @littlexdeaths 12 days of promptmas đ prompt: you need a last minute gift, but man that salesclerk sure is cuteâŚ
The mall is packed.
You canât really be surprised, what with Christmas being in two short days. Turns out you arenât the only person in town who waited until the last second to buy a gift.
Youâd thought you had all of your gifts in order, until one of your friends decided to mention they got you an unexpected gift, and now you felt obligated to return the favor.
You loosen the scarf around your neck, unbuttoning your coat now that youâre safe from the elements. You glance around the mall somewhat aimlessly, letting your feet carry you. Your gaze snags on the bookstore, eyes lighting up at the sight.
Bingo.
Trailing inside, youâre met with shelf after shelf of books. You donât really know where to begin looking, you just hope that youâll know when you find the right one. You brush past other shoppers, eyes roaming over the spines and covers of various novels.
âDid you need help finding anything?â a voice asks, breaking you from your shopping trance.
You turn, fingers still gently grazing the spine of one of the books on the shelf before you, and when you meet the face of the salesperson, your heart skips a beat.
Sheâs gorgeous. Stunning, bright blue eyes and freckles sprinkled over her face. Dirty blonde hair with bangs that suit her well. She looks at you expectantly, but thereâs an almost nervous edge to her demeanor. Your eyes catch her name tag. Robin is written in blue marker, squiggles and dots and other designs littering the blank space around her name.
âOh, um, no,â you stammer awkwardly. âIâm just looking for a last minute gift for a friend,â you tell her, feeling your cheeks grow warm under her stare.
âThat one is actually one of my favoritesâ, she says, motioning with a nod of her head to the book where your fingers rest.
You follow her gaze, looking back at the book to pull it off of the shelf, though you find you donât really want to stop looking at her.
âI-Iâve recommended it to all of my friends,â the salesclerk continues. âMy friend Steve â he literally never reads â finally read that a couple months ago and he loved it. Talked my ear off about it afterwards. I almost regretted recommending it in the first place,â she laughs kind of nervously, chewing at her lip as if to keep herself from saying more.
You find the personal anecdote adorable, taking her recommendation seriously.
âHm,â you ponder, staring at the cover of the book now in your hands. âI think youâve just convinced me,â you tell her, watching as her eyes visibly brighten.
âReally?â she asks, her voice suddenly so quiet.
âMhm,â you nod. âMy friend, the one Iâm buying for, hasnât read in a while and theyâve been looking for something to get them back in the groove.â
The girl lights up, smiling so big. It takes all youâve got not to reach out and trace the little laugh lines on her face. Instead you smile back at her, and maybe you hold each otherâs gaze for a minute too long, but maybe it doesnât matter.
âIâm so glad I could help,â she says finally, cheeks turning pink as her eyes dart away. âDo you want me to check you out?â she asks, before her eyes go wide. âI mean, like, ring you out. Not check you out like, check you out. Oh, god,â she trails off, but her embarrassment only makes you more smitten with her.
âThat would be great,â you tell her, giggling softly to yourself as she nods and turns, skittering away like a mouse.
You follow, weaving through the shelves and up to the checkout counter. She takes your book, scanning it for you, and you find yourself tracing the freckles on her cheeks as she works.
âSo, are you excited for the holiday?â she asks you. The small talk is welcome â anything to keep you here longer.
âIâm more excited now that my shopping is all done,â you reply. âDo you have any plans?â you ask, handing her the money for your purchase.
âAh,â she says, expression turning kind of sad. âNot this year. I usually go back home for the holidays, but I couldnât swing it this year between work and school.â
âOh,â you frown, giving her a sympathetic look. âIâm sorry. I know how that feels.â
Thereâs a pause, her pretty hands placing your book in a small paper bag, your eyes already on her when she looks up to meet them.
âYou know, my friends and I are having a little get together. Onâ on Christmas Day,â you start. âEveryone always has a date and, well, I donât have one.â
Her head tilts ever so slightly to the side, her bottom lip pulling between her teeth.
âI know we just met and you donât even know my name or literally anything, but⌠if you wanted to come with meââ you stop yourself, suddenly self-conscious.
But the look in her eyes is so hopeful, it encourages you to go on.
âWeâd love to have you. Iâdâ Iâd love to help make your holiday less lonely. Since you helped me so much today, with the gift.â
âAm I attending this party as your date?â she asks, emphasizing the last word cutely, her voice gone so soft you have to lean forward to hear her.
Your face warms, fingers fidgeting on the countertop.
âIf thatâs okay with you, Robin,â you say, and the smile that crosses her face at the use of her name makes you certain youâve made the right move.
The line of customers behind you grows, people in a hurry to get out and on their way. You both recognize this at the same time, and you shoot her an apologetic glance.
âIâd love to come,â Robin says, flipping your receipt over and scribbling something down. âThatâs my number,â she says, handing you the slip of paper. âIâm off at 7 today, if you want to call. Or anything.â
âOkay,â you smile. âYeah, okay. I will.â
With the receipt clutched in your hand and the book tucked under your arm, you give her a small wave before leaving the bookstore.
Your heart flutters in your chest as you look down at her writing, the glittery gel penâs ink making each number sparkle.
Christmas canât come fast enough.
#robin buckley#robin buckley x reader#robin buckley x fem!reader#robin buckley fluff#robin buckley fanfic#robin buckley fanfiction#thetwelvedaysofpromptmas đ#divider by strangergraphics
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UNHEALTHY OBSSESION
back to my main masterlist
pairing: yandere!jenna ortega x reader
summary: after a brief encounter with jenna ortega at a meet-and-greet, y/n is surprised to receive a follow request and a message from her. what starts as a seemingly innocent exchange soon spirals into a possessive obsession, with jenna constantly messaging, showing up unannounced, and isolating y/n from friends. as y/n tries to distance themselves, jennaâs behavior grows darker, her obsession tightening like a trap, until y/n realizes that escaping her hold might be impossible.
warnings: obsessive behaviour, stalking, emotional manipulation, psychological distress.
w/c: 1k+
you never thought much of celebrities. sure, you admired them from a distance, but you always told yourself they were just people, just names youâd heard. so when your friend dragged you to jenna ortegaâs meet-and-greet, you felt out of place. she was beautiful, magnetic, but she was just a name on your friendâs lips, a face you knew from magazines.
that changed when you stepped up to meet her, the last in line. your friend had already gone ahead, gushing over the quick selfies sheâd taken with jenna. you tried to keep your cool, gave her a polite smile, kept your distance. but when jenna looked at you, it was as if the whole room went silent. her gaze lingered, a little longer than it should, and you saw her eyebrows lift, just slightly.
âyou seem⌠different,â she said, her voice soft, almost a murmur meant just for you.
you laughed nervously, shrugged it off. she held your gaze, eyes searching yours like she was trying to memorize your face. the brief exchange left you feeling strangeâgiddy but unsettled. it was probably nothing. you left, pushing the moment out of your mind as you rejoined your friend.
but that night, as you lay in bed, your phone buzzed. you glanced at it, frowning. a follow request on instagramâfrom jenna ortega.
your heart skipped. it had to be a joke, right? or maybe her team managing her account? but you hit accept, curiosity outweighing logic. almost immediately, a message popped up.
jenna: hi, y/n. i hope itâs okay i reached out. i⌠couldnât stop thinking about you.
you blinked, staring at the message. it felt surreal, like a scene out of a movie. you hesitated, then typed a casual reply, something light, just to see if she was serious.
you: i didnât expect youâd remember me.
jenna: i remember a lot about you.
from there, the messages kept coming. every day, multiple times a day, jenna reached out, asking about your life, your interests. she was kind, thoughtful, curious. her questions were endlessâwhat was your favorite color? your favorite food? did you like to read? what was your dream vacation? the messages were warm, personal, and slowly, you felt yourself getting drawn in, almost hypnotized by her attention.
but things began to shift. her messages came faster, more insistent, like she needed to know where you were, who you were with. if you took too long to respond, sheâd send another message.
jenna: youâre not ignoring me, are you?
you tried to laugh it off, tell yourself she was just lonely, maybe a little over-enthusiastic. but one evening, while you were out with friends, your phone buzzed.
jenna: i thought we agreed youâd tell me when you went out.
you frowned, fingers hovering over the screen. you hadnât agreed to anything like that. but before you could type a response, another message popped up.
jenna: you donât understand how much i care about you. you have no idea what itâs like, thinking about you all the time.
you typed a careful reply, trying to brush it off as a misunderstanding. but it was hard to ignore the chill creeping down your spine. things were moving too fast. she was everywhereâyour notifications filled with her likes, your friends disappearing one by one, as if sheâd somehow driven them away without a word.
then, one night, she showed up.
you were at your favorite coffee shop, the one youâd casually mentioned to her in passing, and she walked in like she belonged there. she didnât look surprised to see you; if anything, she seemed pleased. she took the seat across from you, leaning forward, her fingers brushing against yours as she murmured, âi just wanted to see you.â
you tried to smile, tried to pretend it didnât unnerve you, but her stare was intense, unblinking. she looked at you like you were the only person in the world, her fingers tapping idly on the table as she asked you about your day. every detail, every minute, like she needed to know it all.
from that day on, sheâd show up without warning, always knowing where youâd be. and when you tried to confront her, her expression would shiftâsoft, almost hurt, like youâd wounded her.
âwhy are you acting like this, y/n?â sheâd ask, voice trembling just slightly. âiâm just trying to keep you safe. you donât understand how much you mean to me.â
youâd try to explain, tell her it was too much, but sheâd look at you with those deep, unflinching eyes, and somehow, youâd find yourself apologizing, as if you were the one overreacting.
then came the gifts. small, thoughtful things at firstâa book youâd mentioned, a necklace in your favorite color. but one night, you came home to find a box on your doorstep. inside was a single rose, delicate and freshly cut, and a handwritten note.
you have no idea what iâd do to keep you close, y/n. donât push me away.
you tried to distance yourself, but jennaâs grip was tight, suffocating. she flooded your phone with messages, each one more desperate than the last, her words dripping with both devotion and a hint of menace. you stopped posting on social media, hoping itâd make her lose interest, but instead, she started showing up more often, as if your silence made her crave you more.
one night, you couldnât take it anymore. you told her, face-to-face, that you needed space. she laughed, a soft, unsettling sound, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the table between you.
âspace?â she repeated, her voice laced with disbelief. ây/n, youâre all i think about. i go to sleep thinking of you, wake up dreaming of you. donât you see? no one will ever care about you like i do.â
you swallowed, trying to hold her gaze without flinching. âjenna, this isnât⌠normal.â
she tilted her head, her smile fading. âmaybe normal doesnât matter,â she whispered, her voice chillingly calm. âmaybe itâs just you and me, and maybe thatâs all thatâs ever mattered.â
you stood up to leave, feeling her eyes follow you, the weight of her stare burning into your back. as you walked away, you heard her say, quietly but clear enough to make your blood run cold:
âyouâll come back to me, y/n. you always do.â
and as you stepped outside, feeling the night air prickle against your skin, you knew she wasnât finished with you. this wouldnât be the end.
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