#i might go through my early notes again and see if i can maybe drop some arcs that aren't like. hyper relevant plot wise

[antirepurp]

yes im still writing my stone ocean rewrite no this is not a sufficient backlog whatsoever

[azrielbrainrot]

A Little Piece of Heaven

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Morning Sex

Description: Eris shows you how much he's missed you.

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, really fluffy

Word Count: ~1,1k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: I didn't have time to proofread this, I'm so sorry.

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Most mornings started with you feeling cold and missing the warmth of your mate beside you these days. Ever since Eris had become High Lord, he had been incredibly busy fixing the mess his father made of this court for centuries on end. You were more than proud of him for all the work he already had managed to do, the atmosphere in the Autumn Court was already starting to change, the cities didn't look so gloomy for the first time in too long, but Gods did you miss your mate.

Even when you were hiding from the world you managed to steal time for yourselves, but now that you could finally sleep in his arms, you ended up waking up alone most days, only seeing him back in time for lunch or dinner if you were lucky. That's why when you felt his body moving away from you as you were sleeping, you wake up suddenly, turning around and pulling him into you again, deciding to be a bit selfish for the both of you.

His body tenses against yours briefly, surprised to see you awake, but he soon melts into your arms with a sigh, kissing the top of your head and hiding his face in your hair.

“Good morning, my love,” he breathes out, his deep voice still tainted with sleep making your chest heavy.

“Good morning,” you whisper back, starting to drop kisses over his neck.

“You should go back to sleep. I have to go to work.”

It was still too early, you couldn't even see any light filtering in through the curtains. No wonder the bed is always cold next to you by the time you get up if he was leaving so early.

Eris pulls you away from his neck gently, kissing the pout that forms on your lips, leaning his forehead over yours even when he pulls away, clearly not too excited about leaving you either, his body and the bond inside him screaming at him to stay in your arms.

“They can wait a bit longer today,” you murmur against his lips, “You deserve some rest.”

“There's too much to do,” he says defeatedly, shaking his head in denial.

“A couple of hours won't hurt.” You tighten your hold on him when it feels like he's going to try pulling away “Please, I miss you so much.”

“I know, baby. I miss you too.”

“You're always gone when I wake up and you only get home when I'm already sleeping,” you start, “I barely see you anymore.”

“I'm sorry.” He kisses your forehead, pulling away so he can look into your eyes, thumb running over your bottom lip before leaning down to kiss you. “I need to make this court perfect for you, but I shouldn't neglect you in the process,” he whispers in between kisses, tongue exploring your mouth, making you lose your mind. “I should make it up to you.”

“You should,” you whisper, staring into those beautiful amber eyes. When you pulled him back into bed you had meant for him to sleep in with you, maybe wake up in each other's arms for once, but you would be lying if you said you didn't miss this too.

He hums into you, kissing you slowly but passionately, one of his hands moving down your body, easily finding your panties under your nightgown, running his finger over your clothed cunt, soft moans spilling into his mouth even though he had barely started - it really had been too long.

Your own hand moves down his torso, feeling his abs tighten under your touch, until you find the hem of his underwear, slipping in to find his cock at the same time he pushes your panties to the side, carefully inserting a finger inside you, cursing softly when he finds your cunt offers no resistance.

“Missed me this much?” He asks with a knowing look in his eyes, looking more like the arrogant male you knew and loved. If it was anyone else, you might have been a bit embarrassed at how wet you had gotten in such a short time, but this was Eris, and your need overshadowed every other emotion, especially when it had been so long since you last had felt his fingers fucking into you like this.

Eris wastes no time in adding a second finger as you try your best to stroke his cock in turn. You wanted to taste him, but it seemed that would have to be left for another day, your high building far too quickly under his skilled fingers.

“Eris,” you moan out, tightening your grip on his cock when his fingers touch just the right place, “I need you.”

Luckily he wasn't in a teasing mood this morning either, fingers abandoning you in favor of gripping your leg and placing it over his thigh, hand swatting yours away so he could grab hold of his cock and guide it into you, your hips moving to help him as his mouth finds yours once again, swallowing your needy pants.

This wasn't the best position, your clothes were definitely getting in the way since he had only pushed everything to the side, and you could barely move, but the way he was holding you in his arms and kissing you so passionately was more than enough to have you mewling into his mouth.

His deep, short thrusts were hitting all the right spots and your bond was purring under your skin. There was almost no way to see where you ended and he began, wrapped in each other's arms like you were each other's salvation. You had almost forgotten just how perfectly you two fit together.

It didn't take long for both of you to reach your highs, soft moans and love confessions filling the room. You wouldn't say you doubted his love and affection for a second, but feeling him like this, whispering sweet praises into your ear still reassured you somehow.

You have to stop yourself from pouting again when he pulls his cock out, picking up whatever was at hand to clean you up a bit. He helps you strip out of your clothes, taking his own off right after, and lays back down next to you, pulling you into his side, laying your head on his chest.

“Go back to sleep now,” he says, wrapping his arm tightly around you.

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“I will,” he promises, kissing the top of your head, “I'll be right here.”

[emotionoitme]

trouble

trouble - coldplay

part 3 of don’t call my name

warnings: angst, hurt + arguing but it’s steamy, drinking and clubbing, some violence (she gets grabbed and threatened but nothing happens), guard dog carmy bark bark, carmy throws hands & brief mention of blood. comfort sex, sappy and sweet but hot, it’s unprotected what else did you expect from me, dirty talk, some drama with claire i’m sorry 

wc: 9.0k

a/n: so…i told everyone this was going to be 3 parts when it actually needs 4. i fear i am just too much of a yapper. i love these two and think i needed to do the story justice. so stay tuned for ch4. hehehehe. hope u enjoy!!! (it is going to get angsty) 

playlist

carmen berzatto is a shitty communicator. 

this we know to be a fact. 

it’s just, sometimes when there are a thousand thoughts swarming around his head, it’s easier to not say anything at all. that makes sense, right? 

the girl wakes up the next morning to find herself alone. the plush king sized bed almost mocks her with emptiness.

she knows that carmy is a hard worker. a michelin star kitchen doesn’t just run itself. still, it might be nice to get a note, or text, or anything that would reassure her last night wasn’t just some fluke to to him. 

the silence of the apartment is almost deafening. she trudges down the stairs and walks to the kitchen, pouring herself what was left in the coffee pot from carmy’s early morning. 

she feels lethargic, sore, and a little stung from waking up alone. no text or anything, she thinks. 

but there was still time. maybe he was just really busy today. she pushes away the negative thoughts and slaps both of her cheeks lightly, trying to wake herself up. it would be a good day. he would text her or call her when he got a break. and they would talk about it. she puts a smile on her face at the delusion and hops back up the stairs to get dressed for work. 

the girl tries to busy herself when she gets there, picking up extra slack from coworkers and bustling around to finish projects. trying to not check her phone. 

she goes on lunch break with no text from him. 

gets off work at 5 with no text from him. 

throws his sheets in the wash and remakes his bed with no text from him. 

eats dinner with no text from him. 

watches a movie at 9:30 with, you guessed it. 

she throws her phone back onto the bed angrily, the false wall of positivity built in her mind beginning to crumble. she’s tired and annoyed, so she shuts off the movie and buries herself in bed, trying to push thoughts of him out of mind so she could sleep. 

she tells herself that they can talk tomorrow. but then, tomorrow comes and it’s the same nothing, almost like she didn’t even have a roommate. 

three silent days go by until the girl decides she’s had enough, and plans to wait up for him and have a talk. maybe he just wasn’t a texting type of guy, she tries to comfort herself. 

she grabs her book and a throw blanket and camps out on the couch, waiting for him to get home. 

it’s close to midnight before she hears keys jingling and the lock turning. her heart drops inexplicably but she remains nonchalant and continues reading her book until she hears him take a few steps inside. 

she turns her head, watching him talk on the phone as he slides his shoes off. he doesn’t notice her in the dim light of the living room, and his brows are furrowed, hand running through his messy curls. 

“yeah. yeah, i’m- i know….sorry again,” a pause, “okay. i’ll see you saturday. bye, claire.” 

her eyebrows shoot up at the name, the sinking feeling with in her stomach increasing tenfold. this motherfucker. 

carmen makes it halfway into the living room before he notices her on the couch, slightly startling at her presence, mumbling a “shit”

her face feels hot, but not in the good way she had grown accustomed to the past few weeks. 

“hey,” he greets softly, eyes looking tired, shoulders slumped. 

she just glares at him and goes back to reading her book. 

he says her name. she ignores him.

the man lets out a small scoff, stepping closer to the couch, hand on his hip. 

“what, you, uh, ignoring me?” 

she glances up at him and there’s a small smirk on his face, like he thinks it’s joke or something. 

she opens her mouth to say something mean, but stops herself. takes a deep breath. recenters. 

she slams her book shut and turns to face him. 

“i’m going to bed.” 

the man’s small smirk drops, watching as she shoots up from the couch and starts heading towards the stairs. he grabs her wrist to stop her. 

“hey,” he says, firmer this time. 

she whips around and pulls her arm back. 

“what?” she snaps. 

his brows furrow at her tone of voice. he pauses for a second, eyes raking down her face, taking in her expression. 

“why are you acting like that?” he asks. 

the question does nothing but make her feel angrier. 

“because you’re being fucking confusing,” the girl exclaims, her throat growing tight.

“how am i confusing?” carmen replies with a surge of annoyance, “you woke me up the other night with…” his eyes dart down her frame, “half your fuckin’ clothes on.” he tries to sound angry, but his voice betrays him a bit. truthfully, it was like his prayers had come true when he opened his eyes to find her straddling him in underwear and a tiny little top that barely kept her chest contained. 

“yeah cause i thought you were into me,” she frustratedly sighs, “but you’re just…using me to get over claire.” 

the allegation wasn’t rooted in fact. but that’s how the girl felt, and she confuses the two in the moment. 

“don’t say that.” he snaps, “that’s not fuckin’ true in the slightest.” carmen had been done with claire for months at this point. if anything, he had been trying to use claire to get over his roommate.

“it’s been three days since we-… and you haven’t said anything,” she sighs, rubbing her forehead, feeling a headache come on. 

he knows his, and feels guiltier than she could even imagine. but he also knows she’s leaving in a few short weeks, and doesn’t want to fall any deeper than he already has for her. 

“i got busy at work.” he defends. it’s a shitty excuse, but as usual, it’s the first to come to mind. 

her eyes brows crease further. 

“you have a phone.” she chides.

“i just…i didn’t think about it,” he lies, “i’m sorry.”

she scoffs and shakes her head. 

“god, you’re so-,” another sigh, “you know, whatever, carm.” she turns from him and begins to walk up the stairs. 

he hates how his eyes glance down to her ass, peaking out from beneath a pair of short shorts. 

god he’s a fucking loser, he tells himself. 

carmy calls her name again. she ignores him. 

-

the girl slams her bedroom door behind her and throws herself onto her bed. she tries to fight the hot, angry tears that stream down her face, telling herself it doesn’t really bother her. telling herself that he’s just another stupid guy, and she can find better. this does nothing to ease the burning feeling in her chest, though, a pair of soft blue eyes flashing in her mind. thinking of the way he was rough with her while still being gentle, kissing her face and calling her sweet names. thinking of how he held her and wiped her tears and assured her that things would work out. 

fucking asshole! 

she grabs her duvet and pulls it over her head, wrapping herself tightly and burrowing into the pillow. she tells herself that she won’t make the mistake of giving into him again. wouldn’t ever grace him with her lips or fingers or sweet moans again. 

she tells herself that she doesn’t need him. she could easily find someone else that would satisfy that same feral craving she had for carmen. 

in fact, tomorrow would be friday, and she hadn’t gone out in a long time. she decides on calling up a friend and making a friday night plan to go out. drink, dance, and prove to herself that there’s better for her out there than carmy. 

the girl aggressively rubs her face of tears and shoots up out of bed, grabbing her phone to send the invitation to a girlfriend. her phone pings with a quick response, and the girl confirms her plan for the following night, already envisioning what to wear. the thought of seeing carmy tomorrow night before she goes out makes her stomach churn. the thought of seeing him at all makes it churn, actually. 

she tells herself that she only has to stick it out for another month or so. then she would go back to california and things would be normal. no more stupid boys. no more heated touches. no more whimpers being greedily devoured by hungry kisses. 

she tells herself that’s what she wants. 

it doesn’t feel genuine in the slightest. 

the following morning she rummages through her closet and picks out a couple of skimpy options. she studies herself in the mirror, holding up the various items up in front of her nude body, wondering what carmy would think of the outfits. she quickly tries to push the thought out of mind. she doesn’t care what he thinks, she reminds herself. her eyes fixate on the finger-shaped bruises scattered about her hips. she thinks of how they got there. 

her day at work seems to go impossibly slow. the girl finds herself thinking of carmen constantly, caught between hoping there would be a text from him when she would check her phone and hoping she would never hear from him again. 

her mind frequently flashes to the way he handled her a few nights ago. how he kissed her obsessively. how he held her up once her legs had given out. how he relentlessly plowed into her and called her a pretty girl and told her she was made for him. 

the thought simultaneously makes her horny and angry, something that she had never experienced so vividly until now. she wanted to slap his face, but at the same time she wanted to kiss him and grind against him and beg for him again. 

it’s entirely confusing. 

by the time 10 o clock rolls around, she begins to get ready, meticulously styling her hair and applying her makeup. she opts for a sultry, smokey look, accentuating her eyes with dark shadow and liner, glossing her pouty lips with a clear lacquer. the girl tries to hurry the routine, anxious to make it out the door before carmen gets back. 

she strips her clothes off and slips into her club apparel, then decorates her look with rings, bracelets, earrings, and a necklace. as she slides her thigh high boots on, she hears the front door open, then slam closed.

“fuck,” she harshly exhales. looks like she would have to see him after all. 

carmy racks his keys onto the hook and steps out of his shoes, taking a deep breath at the relief of being home. it’s not until he notices the light coming from upstairs that the relief is replaced with a sense of anxiety. 

he knows he needs to fix things between him and his roommate, if he could even refer to her as just that anymore. he had felt like a jackass all week, but apologies were never really his strong suit. he didn’t even know where to start. 

the man empties his pockets out onto the credenza, then begins to make his way into the living room. he stops in his tracks when he hears the click of heels descending the stairs. 

as he turns his head and catches sight of her, he fights to stifle a groan. 

she comes down clad in a tight top and mini skirt, length of her legs emphasized by black thigh high boots. his eyes rake down her body, admiring the curve of her figure and the appealing fit of the clothes. he wishes that she would dress like that all the time, but he doesn’t tell her that, instead just opting for a casual, albeit slightly strained “hey.”

she looks at him, but doesn’t reply, instead sauntering over to their bar cart and pouring herself a shot. he realizes the top is backless, and clenches his jaw a bit, trying to recenter with a deep breath. 

“you, uh…you look nice,” he clears his throat. 

she throws back the shot and shivers. 

“thanks,” her response comes dryly, walking over to grab her purse, “i’ll be back in a few hours.”

carmen feels his brain stutter, processing what she said, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“wait you, uh, you’re going out dressed like that?” he can’t help but feel a bit protective, even if she is pissed off at him. the girl scoffs. 

“i can’t really go to the club in sweatpants, carm.” 

he rubs a hand over his face, trying to keep calm. 

“you could, uh….at least put a fuckin’ jacket on or something though?” he tries to suggest kindly. his tone betrays him. 

“yeah?” she turns towards him, “why the fuck do you care?” bite in her tone. 

his eyes fall over the multiple hickeys that litter her neck, then flicker over her face, realizing how striking her features look accentuated by dark makeup. she looks angry. a little hurt. he wants to say something soothing. 

“cause i-fuck,” hand threading through his hair messily, “because i know how guys think.” 

nice. real soothing. 

“yeah? n’what do they think?” she challenges. 

that anyone would want you. that you look fucking hot wearing those tight little clothes.

carmy opts to not respond so directly, and walks closer to her. 

“i just don’t want you to get… hurt.” his tone is firm, jaw set tightly. she lets out a sardonic laugh at this. at the fact that he’s her biggest source of hurt at the moment.

“what, you think it’s funny?” he barks, “you could get fuckin’…picked up or drugged or something.” 

she rolls her eyes. 

“that’s not gonna happen. i’m going with a friend.” she snatches her purse off the credenza, fumbling through it to make sure she has her id. he takes a few steps closer. until he can smell her sweet perfume. 

“well, let me drive you guys then.” 

she shakes her head. 

“no. we’re getting a cab.” zipping up her purse and hanging it over her shoulder. 

“fuck, then call me when you get there. and when you’re leaving.” he snaps a bit, becoming a bit fed up with her attitude. 

“not gonna fuckin’ call you, carmy,” her face scrunches up in anger, “i’ll probably end up going home with someone, anyways,” she fibs, locking eyes with him, unintentionally leaning in a bit. 

“you what?” he angers, moving even closer to her, their faces mere inches apart. 

she can feel the shot she took now, eyes darting down to his lips. fuck his deodorant. the smell of it makes her want to give in.

“‘mgonna find someone tonight,” her tone lower now, lids low, “��n they’re gonna fuck me better than you ever will.” 

he scoffs, blood boiling at her words, shaking his head, eyebrow twitching. 

“yeah, uh, that’s not gonna fuckin’ happen.” his hand comes to wrap around her hip, squeezing. his face comes closer, lips nearly ghosting hers.

“yeah?” she challenges, actively fighting to keep from diving in, eyes locked on his lips.

“yeah,” tone firm, “tell your friend you’re staying in tonight.” 

she doesn’t know why she feels so turned on. still pissed off, yes, but mostly aroused. 

she rolls her eyes and lets out a laugh to hide this, but he can tell. he can always tell by the slight flutter of her eyelids and the way she’ll part her lips. he knows that she likes when he talks to her like that. 

the girl channels all of her strength and steps away from him, opening the front door. 

“see you tomorrow,” she chimes, walking out. he calls her name as she walks away, but she ignores him. he tells himself he’s too proud to chase after her, but really he wants to do nothing more. 

as she makes her way down the hall, his eyes rake down her exposed back, settling on her shapely ass. 

this girl was going to drive him fucking crazy. 

-

carmy berzatto (2hrs): you make it there? 

missed call from carmy berzatto (1hr)

carmy berzatto (30min): call me if you need a ride home. 

the girl shuts off her phone, shoving it back in her purse and strutting to the bar counter. sure, now he cared enough to send a text. 

jealous motherfucker. 

it had been a girls night out until her friend went home with an ex boyfriend, leaving her all alone at the club. she leans over the counter, pushing her hair over her shoulder. her feet are sore from the boots she had picked out, coupled with an hour or so of nonstop dancing. 

the girl had planned to leave as soon as her friend did, but made the mistake of passing through the main room where they were playing 2000s music. she couldn’t just not dance to 2000s. 

the bartender works quickly to accommodate the numerous orders. she feels the drink she had been sipping on affecting her, comfortably bathing in the multicolored lights of the club. it was packed with people, and she had been noticing eyes on her all night. 

the girl feels a hand on her lower back, and she turns to meet the eyes of a tall man.

“hi,” he says.

“hey,” she softly replies.

he was admittedly handsome, and his muscular stature didn’t hurt to look at either. 

“can i buy you a drink?” the man asks. 

the girl softly smiles and nods. he raises his hand to flag the bartender. she was planning on getting a water, but since she wasn’t paying for it…

the stranger makes small talk with her, the two having to practically yell into each other’s ear to hear over the bass of the music. jobs, what part of town they live, compliments. not that she really cares about any of it, though she tries to. 

as he leans in to ask if she’ll dance with him, he places his hand on her waist. she tries to ignore how it doesn’t feel right. 

he’s cute, she tells herself, and i needs to stop thinking about carmy. 

the girl takes a long sip of her drink and nods softly, taking his hand and leading him to the dance floor. they squeeze through the crowd of bodies, and she turns to face him, hand on his chest. he places a hand on her lower back, and they begin to move to the beat. she takes another long sip of her drink, closing her eyes, coming closer to the man, swaying her hips. his deodorant doesn’t smell as good as carmen’s does. doesn’t comfort her like his does. 

she takes another sip, and she circles around, moving her hips, facing away from the man. the music resonates through the whole building, lights flash and change color, making her movements feel dreamlike. he places his hands on her hips. 

she wishes that she liked how it felt. 

the man presses his hips into her backside. she imagines it’s carmen, and the thought makes her bite down onto her lip. her head falls back against his chest. she thinks of her roommate’s strong arms. his tattoos. the way his face scrunched up when he fully engulfed himself in her. the girl lets out a breath. her skin feels hot and sticky in the muggy club air. she takes another long sip of alcohol, feeling lips on her neck. they feel strange and unfamiliar. it doesn’t set off that tingling sensation in her lower stomach. she groans out of frustration. 

“mmm you like that don’t you, pretty girl?” the man slurs into her ear. 

the name makes her heart drop, and all of the sudden she feels like she needs to throw up. she shoves the stranger’s hands away and stumbles forward, pushing her way out of the crowd. the floor feels like it’s tilting on an axis as she cringes at the feeling of other sweaty bodies touching her. she gets shoved into by a big group and loses her drink. 

it’s suddenly hard to breathe. the girl feels her throat tighten, her chest burning, wiping hot tears away. she fights and pushes and weaves through the crowd until she finally breaks free, making a beeline for the glowing red exit sign. the girl shoves the door open, almost tripping over the frame, and stumbles out into the cold night. 

the frigid air helps alleviate some of her nausea, skin rising in goosebumps. she trudges along the brick wall and leans her back against it, focusing on taking deep breaths. her hands run through her messy hair, pushing it out of her face, closing her eyes, trying to stop the steady flow of tears. 

this night was supposed to be fun, but all she wanted to do was go home and sleep this booze off. all she wanted was carmen. 

her hands fumble through her purse, grabbing her phone. she drops it, muttering a “shit,” and crouches down to pick it up. she squints her eyes at the light of the display, struggling to navigate to the uber app. she enters her address, cursing internally when she sees the friday night surge prices. instead, she exits uber and finds her contacts, hovering over the number of a cab company. her eyes glance towards carmen's contact, right below. 

she doesn’t want to call him. he was being an asshole, and she hates how easily he was able to get under her skin. so she dials the contact for the cab, listening to the line ring. and ring. and ring. almost infinitely, then a automated voice of “your call cannot be completed.” 

“fuck,” she curses, terminating the call. 

her eyes fixate on his name, pausing and contemplating. 

she rolls her eyes and dials it. the line rings twice and gets picked up with a raspy greeting and a “y’okay?” 

she stays silent for a second, not sure what to say. he says her name. 

“did you know that you are-” she hiccups, “s-so mean?” it’s the only thing that comes to mind. 

“are you drunk?” he asks.

“no. m’not” she argues, wiping a stray tear. 

“you sound drunk,” he retorts, “where are you? i’m coming to get you.” 

“you’re so fucking…rude. ‘nyou think you can just do whatever you want because you’re so-” hiccup, “hot… and big…you irritate me, carm,” she slurs into the line. she opens her mouth to say more, but he cuts her off by saying her name sternly. 

“you at prysm? tunnel?” 

“yeah. that one.” she hiccups again. 

“tunnel? okay, stay right there. i’m getting in my car now.” 

“ok but i’m still mad at you,” she murmurs, leaning against the cool brick. he scoffs, and starts saying something about her bad attitude, but she cuts him off by hanging up, harshly exhaling and closing her eyes tightly. the tears continue falling, so she just tries to focus on her breathing. 

a cool breeze causes her to stiffen, wrapping her arms around herself, shivering. it’s uncomfortable, but grounding. her head stops spinning so much as she begins to breathe deeply. the tears come to a steady stop, but the aching in her chest doesn’t. she wishes carmen would hold her and kiss her head. 

around fifteen minutes pass before she hears the back door of the club open. the girl keeps her eyes shut, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t bother her. though it seems she’s not so lucky tonight, unfortunately. 

“hey, you,” a deep voice says. she snaps her eyes open to find the same tall man she was dancing with earlier standing in front of her. 

she just stares at him silently, crossing her arms in front of her to help provide some modesty. 

“listen, i think we get along well. and you’re really hot,” he explains drunkenly, “why don’t i help you get home?” 

she feels icked out, trying to refrain from rolling her eyes.

“m’not interested, sorry. i have someone coming to pick me up.” 

the man scoffs. 

“you were plenty interested earlier when i bought you a drink,” taking a step closer to her, “c’mon. don’t be a tease.” he has a smirk on his face. she feels her heart begin to pound against her chest. 

carmy was right, it was a mistake to come out. she tries to take a step away from him, blocked by the hard brick wall. 

“seriously, i’m not interested,” she tries to sound assertive, “my boyfriend will be here any second so just leave me alone.” she hopes he can’t read through her lie. 

“your boyfriend?” he asks, smirk turning into a grin, “you’re a naughty girl, aren’t you? someone should fucking straighten you out.”

her heart drops to her stomach, and she feels sick all over again. she steps forward to shove past him, and he grabs her waist, slamming her back into the wall. 

“don’t fucking touch me!” she yells, grabbing his wrists and digging her nails in. he doesn’t let go. tears begin to stream down her face, heart hammering against her ribcage. she sees headlights from down the street and prays that it’s carmen, continuing to struggle against the man. 

the car speeds up to the curb and jerks to a stop, door flying open. she shuts her eyes tightly and digs her nails in hard enough to draw blood, giving a final attempt at trying to get his hands off of her. 

the girl is suddenly released as the man is jerked backwards by his shoulder. her eyes snap open and graciously land on the person she’s been wanting to see the most. 

everything happens so fast—watching in a haze as carmen practically decks the guy in the face, sending the stranger stumbling back, gripping a bloody nose. 

“you muverfuckr!” he slurs, words muffled by a dripping hand, lunging forward again. carmy shuffles back, then throws another jab square in the face. the man falls backwards onto the ground, sitting on the concrete, looking entirely disoriented. the girl gasps, feeling partially sobered by the scene. 

she watches as the stranger’s blood drips onto the pavement, then darts her gaze over to carmen. his eyes look crazed, jaw tightly locked. he begins to stalk towards the man, clenching his fists that were spotted with red. 

the girl reaches out and grabs his arm. he turns to look at her and his features immediately soften, taking in her tear-soaked cheeks and swollen lips. without thinking, he grabs her arm and pulls her into a tight embrace, arms wrapping around her in a protective bear hug. she clings to his shirt, and cries. he kisses the top of her head. 

he smells so good. smells so safe. 

“s’okay. i got you,” he soothes, “you’re okay.” the man says this as a reassurance to himself as well, rubbing her back, feeling his throat tighten and eyes water a bit. 

the stranger lay flat on his back now, clutching his bleeding nose, mumbling incoherently. 

carmen pulls back from the embrace, but keeps an arm wrapped tightly around her, ushering her to the car. she stumbles a bit, holding onto him securely. she wishes the tears would stop, but they don’t. she feels so scared. so relieved. so fucking grateful. 

he gets her into the car, shutting the door and walking around to the driver’s side. she doesn’t want to look at him when he gets in, so she hides her face in her hand, elbow leaning on the arm rest. he doesn’t say anything for the duration of the drive home either. 

she feels embarrassed, tired, and still a little mad at carmy. the whole reason she had wanted to go out and meet guys in the first place was because of his stupid situationship with claire. it was like it made her go into defense mode. 

they had been driving for about 5 minutes, before she feels a dull throbbing in her head, stomach growling, alcohol in her system making her crave greasy nasty salty food. 

she raises her head from her hand, looking at carmen. his eyebrows were knit together tightly, jaw clenched. she leans her head against the headrest as she stares at him lovingly. she loves how protective he gets over her. how strong he is. how blindingly handsome. 

but she’s still mad, of course. 

he catches her gazing at him in his periphery. he looks over, features softening as he catches her eyes momentarily.

“what’s up?” he asks, voice low.

she just looks at him. her lip pouts a bit. 

“you hungry?” comes his question, perfectly timed. 

she allows a soft smile to grace her lips at the accuracy of his guess. 

“mmhm,” she nods, “a burger sounds really good right now. and french fries.” 

he lets out a quiet chuckle, nodding his head, glancing at her again. 

“let’s get you a burger and french fries, then.” 

he turns his signal on and moves to make a quick left, pulling into a drive-thru after a few minutes.

they sit in line waiting for the order to be cooked. she glances over at his face. she wants to kiss him, a little. 

“d’yknow what the ultimate hangover food is?” she asks softly. 

he turns to face her, eyebrows raised in question, a look of amusement on his face. 

“an all american breakfast,” she murmurs with a smile.

“yeah?” he asks, “like…pancakes?”

she nods, biting her lip with a smile. he lets out a soft laugh at this.

“and bacon and eggs. and hash browns. fuck,” her eyes are closed, like she’s imagining it in front of her. this makes the man laugh a bit harder, hand coming to smooth over his face. 

“good answer,” he tells her once he stops smiling as much. 

“what’s yours?” she asks, gazing at him a bit longingly. 

“my what?” 

“your hangover cure food.”

“uh, probably…saltines?”. 

the girl lets out a laugh. 

“the alcohol upsets my stomach,” he admits. 

she laughs harder, burying her face in her hands. 

“you are so cute,” she amuses. 

he fights the heat that rushes to his face when she says this, and they pull forward to the pick up window. 

the girl takes her first bite into the greasy burger that carmen insists on paying for, and it makes her feel more human than she has all night. 

-

carmy parks the car in his assigned lot, then gets out to assist his roommate out of the car. the food helped her feel much more grounded, but she still has to cling onto his arm to be able to walk straight through the building. 

neither of them say anything. this lasts until they get back to their unit, and carmy locks the door behind them. he watches as the girl stumbles out of her shoes and crashes onto the couch. she throws an arm over her eyes and tries to push away the nausea that comes with laying down. 

“thank you,” she murmurs into her arm after a moment.

“mhm,” he responds, “told you to call me when you needed a ride, though,” shrugging off his jacket.

“i did,” she argues.

“no, you called me… way after you needed one. and you stood outside waiting for me,” his tone grows harsher.

if she wasn’t so nauseous, she’d roll her eyes. 

“i was trying to get away from all the guys that were trying to take me home,” she retorts. she means it to be teasing, but it’s clear he doesn’t take it that way by the peak she steals through her arms. 

“y’know, you-,” he scoffs, “i’m glad you think it’s fuckin’ funny because i-fuck…i was worried about you” he throws his keys onto the table, feeling angry, feeling scared. 

she throws her other arm over her face. her cheeks are hot with embarrassment. her throat suddenly feels tight at his words, like she’s going to cry again. she doesn’t say anything out of fear of her voice breaking. 

carmy chides her name, stalking over to the couch. he stands over her, expectantly waiting for a response, jaw clenching with annoyance. he nudges her arm. she moves it, revealing her tired bloodshot eyes. 

“can we not do this tonight?” she begs hoarsely, “m’so drunk.” 

“you fucking scared me,” he exclaims, grabbing his hair, “what would’ve happened if i didn’t get there in time, huh?” 

“i know,” she sobs, tears now freely flowing, hiding her face in her arms again. 

his heart breaks a bit, watching her cry like that. but he feels so angry that she put herself at risk like that. 

“you-” he stops. takes a deep breath to recenter. “you’re right. let’s not do this tonight.” 

she peaks at him through her arms, feeling completely pathetic. she watches him turn on the small lamp by the couch. he drapes a throw blanket over her before turning to walk upstairs. 

tears continue inexplicably trailing down her cheeks, as her deep breathing begins to lul her into sleep. 

an hour passes. 

she shifts to try and get comfy to no avail. 

30 more minutes. 

everything was so uncomfortable. 

she sits up quickly and shoots off the couch, beelining for the stairs, desperate to get the crunchy makeup and scratchy clothes off. 

she falls up the stairs in her sleepy scramble, knocking against the wall loudly. slowly stands up, holds onto the rail, and exhales before continuing to ascend much more carefully. 

as she walks down the hallway, she unashamedly begins to strip out of her clothing, leaving a trail that leads to the bathroom, telling herself she would take care of it later. she feels sick and lethargic, needing a shower immediately. 

the girl leaves the bathroom light off as she draws a cold shower and steps in right away, drenching herself in the frigid water. she tenses, letting out a sharp exhale, feeling almost immediately soothed. 

it’s as if the water washes away everything bad from the night. she meditatively goes through her routine, cleaning herself. cleaning away everything that happened tonight. cleaning away the man who touched her on the dancefloor, outside of the club. 

the shame and embarrassment that begins to seep in as the alcohol wears off doesn’t wash away as easily. she needs to apologize, she knows that.

the girl dries herself off and wraps her hair in a towel as she walks back to her room, feeling more of a pep in her step following the refreshing shower. she bends down to pick up the strung out clothing she left behind, feeling like she was going crazy because her underwear was nowhere to be found. it would just have to wait until tomorrow, she supposes. 

she’s moisturized and laying in bed, trying to fall asleep. tossing and turning. taking a deep breath. softening her face, muscles. thinking of nice things.

drifting off. mind flashing back to the man grabbing her and slamming her against the brick wall. thinking of what would’ve happened had carmy not come to her rescue. 

her eyes snap open. she sharply inhales and sits up, hanging her legs over the side of the bed. it was going to be impossible to get sleep like this, heart beating way too fast to try and relax. 

she just wants to feel safe. 

without a second thought, she stands and begins walking to carmy’s room. 

she knows he’s pissed off at her. knows he’ll probably tell her to get out. even so, she’s so desperate to get some sleep. so desperate to ease the anxiety that had been festering inside of her all night. 

his door is closed, and she hesitates for a moment before twisting the knob and slipping inside. 

it’s dark—the curtains drawn when they usually aren’t. he lay shirtless on his side, facing away from the door, clutching a pillow in his arms. 

the girl peels back his sheets and slowly slips into bed, resting her head on the soft pillow. she stays there for a moment before scooting closer and laying her face against his back. he’s so warm, and his skin smells safe. her eyes fall shut. she feels him shift. 

carmen wakes up unexpectedly to the feeling of warmth behind him. he knows it’s her without having to look. when she had noisily stumbled upstairs and into the shower, he went to go check on her—almost knocked on the bathroom door, but refrained once he heard soft cries from within. 

he feels her face nuzzle into his back, and he reaches his arm back behind him, wanting to feel where she lay. he touches her hip.

“hi,” she greets softly. 

“hey,” he returns, voice raspy, “y’can’t sleep?” 

she scoots closer to him, hand splaying over his back. 

“just a little… freaked out still…” she whispers. her tone wobbles. 

he shifts at this, and turns around to face her silently. in the low light she can make out the worried furrow of his brows.

she feels guilty for being the subject of his worry. 

“i’m sorry,” the girl confesses, biting back tears. 

carmen’s brows crease further at her apology, immediately wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his chest. she tucks her face into his neck, shutting her eyes tightly, smelling his skin. 

“y’got nothing to be sorry for,” he plants a kiss atop her head, “wasn’t your fault.” 

“it was my fault,” her voice breaks, “should’ve listened to you,” her arms come around his neck, and she presses her body flush with his. 

“it wasn’t,” he asserts, “that guy was a fuckin’ creep.” his tone is hushed. his arms wrap around her as if he’s scared of losing her. 

“are you still mad at me?” she asks. her breath tickles his neck. 

“i wasn’t mad,” he admits, “just scared.” 

“me too,” matching his hushed tone. “thank you carm,” she whispers, pressing a kiss below his ear, “feel so safe with you.” she shuffles closer, pelvis pressing against his. 

“you are,” he buries his nose in her hair, “always.” hiking her leg over his hip to bring her closer. 

the girl kisses his neck again. and again. pulls him in closer. his smell is completely addicting, and with the angle of her leg she can feel his erection growing against her core. she hopes he can’t feel the wetness that begins to form beneath her shorts. 

his big palm spreads over her ass and squeezes, desperate to hold every inch of her. 

the girl deeply exhales, bothered by how easily he’s able to rouse her. 

the man harshly exhales at the repeated feeling of her bites and licks and kisses, holding onto her with an urgent desperation. trying to wrap around her as if he were keeping her from the world. 

the room becomes hot, and the two shuffle the duvet off. 

carmen calls her name, trying to break her attention. he wants to apologize. wants to confess his shortcomings. wants to look in her big eyes and tell her he’s not enough and never will be. but she ignores his beckon and continues enthusiastically biting and sucking and kissing, hand pressing against his chest. 

he forces his eyes to stay open, weight of his bottled apology heavy on his tongue. 

“hey,” he tries again, voice strained from the pleasure.

“can you put it in?” she breathes into his neck.

“fuck,” he groans, surprised by her forward request, feeling himself pulse against her wetness. 

“please,” she whines, hiking her leg further up onto his hip, trailing her kisses along his jaw, up to his cheek.

he squeezes her ass again, fingers slipping under the fabric of her tiny shorts. her skin was so soft. so hot with arousal. 

“let me play with you,” he strains, “get you ready f’me.”

the girl makes a sound of protest, kissing his face more, hand coming to his neck. 

“m’ready,” she whispers earnestly “wanna feel you so bad,” another kiss, “please, carm.”

he lets out a strained breath and removes his hand from her ass, shoving his boxers down just enough to free his erection. she moves her thigh higher up his hip, and carmen slips his fingers beneath the fabric covering her core, hastily pulling it to the side.

“yeah,” she exhales desperately, edge of her lips touching his, trying to watch him press his cock into her opening. 

carmen pushes forward, sinking into her tightness. he lets out a groan at the way her wet heat engulfs him. the girl releases a sound of appreciation, her nails indenting the skin of his shoulder. 

he takes a deep breath and begins slowly rocking his hips, turning his face to catch her lips in a hungry kiss. he greedily swallows her sweet noises, catching the edge of her shirt and bunching it up over her chest, exposing her breasts.

“please,” she breaks the kiss to plead, not really even knowing what she was asking for. 

“i know, baby” he groans in between kisses, “gonna take care of you.” rolling his hips, hiking her leg further up his hip to bury himself to the hilt. 

she wants to cry at how good it feels, eyes scrunched shut and mouth falling open in pleasure, releasing her first breathy moan. 

carmy swears he could cum at the sound of it, hand grabbing her ass again, pulling her impossibly closer. his forehead comes to hers and he begins slowly thrusting into her, completely drunk off of her. her smell, her wetness, her whimpers. 

“y’so fuckin’ cute,” he growls, “can’t get enough of you.” his admission sends a fluttering sensation throughout her chest, arching further into his touch, beginning to hungrily rock her hips to try and match his thrusts. 

the man grabs her hip, holding her still. 

“slow down,” he commands softly, catching her lips in a deep kiss, continuing to gently thrust into her. 

she complies, savoring the sweet, lazy rocking motion as he holds her tightly. it feels far more intimate than what she’s ever experienced with him, even though the two weren’t even fully naked. it was needy and frenetic, yet slow and gentle. 

carmen buries himself deeper, beginning to thrust up into her at an angle. he kisses her with frenzy, tongue swirling around hers, swallowing each and every noise she makes. the room grows incredibly hot, their skin sticky, each trying to apologize to the other using their bodies. 

carmy snaps his hips forward, and the girl releases from his lips with a loud cry. her nails dig into his shoulder. it’s so good she feels like crying again. 

“y’such a pretty fuckin’ girl,” he growls, “love how you feel, y’know that?” 

her droopy eyes meet his. she loves the way it sounds from his mouth. loves everything he does. 

“i’m all yours carm,” she gasps, savoring the deep, satiating feeling of his thick cock.

“yeah?” he asks breathily, “all mine?” grabbing her ass, pulling her in time with his thrusts. 

“y-yeah,” she cries, eyes tightly shut, “yours. i love-ah,” she’s interrupted by a punctuated thrust, losing her words, head falling back, breathing heavily. he feels so good.

“what d’you love?” he asks, leaning forward to kiss her exposed neck, “huh?” 

“love y-how you make me feel,” she cries. 

his chest flutters. he bites and kisses the skin of her neck. he wishes she would’ve said something different. 

“what else, hm?” a kiss, thrusts speeding up, “what else d’you love?” 

“love-fuck, right there,” she whimpers, “i love-ah,” trailing off as if she can’t even think straight. 

carmy smiles into her neck, giving her skin a final bruise before pulling away to catch her lips. 

“tell me,” he growls, grabbing the side of her thigh and continuing to upwards. 

her eyes fill with tears. she’s scared to say it. 

“i-,” an gasp, “i love you, carm.” she catches his gaze as she says it, and watches how his expression softens. how deeply he looks at her. the man dives into her lips again, kissing her with a ferocity she had yet to ever receive, groaning into her mouth. 

“fuckin’ made for me,” he growls in between kisses, “love everything about you,” pulling her leg further up, “perfect fuckin’ girl.”

he rolls over her and lifts her hips up, continuing to thrust into her. 

the girl wraps her legs around his back accommodatingly, dizzy from his words and the pleasure. she slips her fingers down to circle her swollen clit, feeling as if she teters right on the edge of climax, overcome with a white hot pleasure. 

“love you,” she cries, nails scratching down his back, “iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou m’gonna cum” she babbles. he smiles down at her, almost overwhelmed by a feral need to claim her. 

the man deliberates throwing caution to the wind and cumming inside of her. he knows she wouldn’t mind. he rationalizes the logistics of making her a mom in his frenetic state, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks, her wet eyes, her open mouth. he decides he’s in love with her. decides he wants her to be his forever. he watches her cum. watches her eyes roll back and her body start shaking. listens to the sweet harmonic moans that spill from her lips. 

“there y’go,” he coaxes, “such a good girl,” kissing her swollen lips, “fuckin’ in love with you,” heightening the pace of his thrusts, feeling himself approach the brink of orgasm. he seriously considers cumming inside of her, telling himself he would if she asked. he looks at the girl for confirmation, but she’s too far gone. he begrudgingly pulls out, shooting thick ropes of cum onto her stomach with a groan, missing her warmth as soon as he leaves. 

carmy rolls off of her, grabbing her face and pressing a firm kiss onto her cheek, collapsing on the bed for a moment. he feels spent.

the girl pants, trying to catch her breath. carmen nuzzles into her neck, wrapping around her tightly, kissing her tenderly. they bask in the afterglow, cherishing the presence of each other, an encompassing silence following the heavy words exchanged.

she’s the first to speak. well, complain. 

“there’s….cum all over my stomach.” she rasps. he smiles into her neck. 

“shower?”

quiet, for a moment. 

“i can’t move.” 

he kisses her bruised skin with a lazy smirk and sits up to grab her a washcloth. 

-

when the girl wakes up alone the next morning, her heart drops a bit, finding the bed next to her empty once again. she shuts her eyes immediately, hoping to be swept away by sleep so she could postpone the disappointment. 

that is, until she hears noises from the kitchen downstairs. and smells the bacon. 

the girl groggily pushes herself up out of bed, stalking down the hallway. she gets halfway to the stairs before realizing she’s completely naked, stopping in her tracks, turning to carmy’s open door, eyes falling on a t-shirt on the ground. she quickly grabs it and slips it over her head, then continues to curiously make her way downstairs. soft music comes from the speaker in the kitchen, and she slowly descends the stairs to find carmy deftly working over the stove. the whole house smells incredible. 

she slips behind him to get to the coffee pot, sliding her hand along his back as she passes. 

the man turns his head.

“hey,”  he watches as she retrieves a mug from the cabinet, graciously taking in the sight of her wearing his shirt. 

“good morning,” she smiles, “smells so good in here.” 

as she stretches to get the mug, the hem of the shirt lifts ever so slightly over the curve of her ass. he clears his throat.

“nice shirt,” carmy says, turning back to tend to the bacon. 

she lets out a soft giggle, pouring her coffee. 

“yeah?” taking a sip and leaning against the counter, “figured it would be better than coming down naked.”

his brain stutters for a moment. he turns to catch the smirk on her face. 

“i, uh…. i dunno about that,” he responds, small smile on his face. she shoves his arm playfully and he breaks into a grin. 

“no work this morning?” she asks, grateful for the unusual saturday morning presence. 

“no, i, uh…m’taking a personal day,” he replies, turning the heat of the stove off, “had some stuff i needed to get done.”

“good,” she replies with a nod, “you deserve a day off. i didn’t take you for much of a breakfast guy, though” she comments, tilting her head slightly. 

“i’m not, really,” he plates the bacon over a paper towel, “but i, uh…thought some all american might help with your hangover.” 

she feels a pang in her chest, eyes glancing over the assortment of pancakes, eggs, hash browns, and bacon. everything she had told him last night. 

“carm,” she whines, “that is so kind. you didn’t have to all of this for me.”

the food looked delectable, plated beautifully and piping hot. 

“i wanted to.” he begins to pick up the plates. 

she puts her coffee down and helps him set the table.

when she takes the first bite of her bacon and eggs she practically moans at the taste. 

“fuck,” she locks eyes with him. 

“yeah?” he watches her with amusement.

“yeah,” she breathes, nodding, “that’s…wow.” 

he can’t help but grin, hand coming to rub over his face. 

“good?” 

“yeah.” she nods, “really fucking good.”

he feels his skin heat at the way she says it, having no idea why watching her enjoy his food was so deeply satisfying (and maybe just a little arousing).

“try the pancakes,” he tells her, pushing the syrup closer to her. she nods enthusiastically, slathering the pancakes the maple syrup and taking a big bite. 

the girl groans, and her head falls into her hand, savoring the taste. she doesn’t think she’s ever had pancakes so good. 

“i could kiss you right now,” she looks back up at him. he lets out a breath of amusement and his cheeks warm with her praise.

“i’m glad you like it.” 

“no, seriously, i’m…going to kiss you.” she tells him, putting a hand on the table and leaning over it. she grabs his shirt and pulls him in, kissing him firmly. 

the man lets out a soft groan of surprise, enthusiastically reciprocating. she tastes like maple syrup. 

when the girl pulls back, he grabs her face and pulls her back in, wanting another sweet taste. it’s better than any pancakes he’s ever made. 

carmen loosens his grip on her face and she slowly pulls away, pressing a last kiss to his lips before sitting back down. she gives him a mischievous smile and continues eating her breakfast.  

-

“go sit down,” she tells him, taking the pan from him, “you already cooked, let me clean up.”

“we can do it together,” he compromises, “it’ll be faster.”

she shakes her head, making a pile of dishes in the sink and turning on the hot water.  

“no. go sit down and relax,” she demands, beginning to scrub. 

she feels arms wrap around her waist, feels lips on her neck. 

“so bossy,” he chides in between kisses, pressing his hips against her backside. she lets out a slow breath, leaning into his touch. her eyes flutter as she feels his hand creep under her shirt, splaying over her stomach. she’s not wearing anything besides his oversized shirt, and her skin suddenly feels hot from his touch. she arches into him slightly, and he bites her neck.  

it feels very domestic, fighting over who would clean up the kitchen. it feels domestic wearing his shirt and being pressed up against the counter by him, skin littered with his bruises, lips intertwined with his name. 

carmy begins to lift the borrowed shirt up, kisses trailing up to her ear, hand coming to squeeze her breast. 

the girl releases a soft noise, completely distracted by her task of washing dishes. her head falls back against his shoulder, and she leans into his touch. 

carmen thinks of telling her to strip the shirt off. thinks of hoisting her up onto the counter and eating her out until she cums. touching her until she cries.

he pushes the shirt up further. 

knock knock knock 

they both startle and look to the front door. carmen checks the time, and his heart drops a bit. 

he pulls away from the girl and runs a hand through his curls.

“who is it?” she asks him, observing his look of stress. 

“it’s, uh….fuck. just wait right here, okay?” his hands fall from his hips and he stalks to the closet by the front door, pulling out a scarf she doesn’t recognize. 

he opens the door halfway, and she hears a familiar woman’s voice greeting him. 

her face gets hot. her chest feels tight. 

“claire,” he greets quietly, thrusting the scarf forward, “here.”

“ugh, thank you, carmy. i’m so forgetful sometimes.” 

“no problem. i should, uh-”

“it smells good in there,” claire comments, peaking in. 

carmen steps back, eyes darting over to his roommate. she stands with her arms crossed, leaning against the counter, staring at him.

“i’m uh…cooking breakfast,” he turns back to claire, “so i should probably get back to that. i’ll see yo-”

“-i was thinking we could talk?” she cuts him off, “can i come in?”

“i don’t know if that’s…,” carmen hesitates. he glances to his roommate to find her walking behind him towards the stairs.

claire’s eyes follow the girl, taking in her attire. carmy watches her expression slightly falter. 

his roommate stalks up the stairs. was walking behind him in plain sight a little petty? maybe. but she’s sick of carmy never saying exactly what he means. she undoes the hair tie holding together her messy updo, walking to her room. 

she quickly grabs a change of clothes and rushes into to the bathroom to shower, feeling the overwhelming need to leave the apartment. 

the front door slams shut, and she hears his steps ascend the stairs.

[starcrossed-lov3rz]

The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 8

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, canon-typical violence, threats, yelling, plot

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra

Words: 1.8K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

“Feet together, shoulders back, strong core, and breathe.” Your eyes are closed, finding a moment of peace as you lead your sons through your morning yoga routine.

“This is supposed to be a challenge?”

“That doesn’t sound like breathing Luke,” you laugh, opening your eyes to see the bored look on Luke and Joffrey’s faces. Jace, to his credit, was trying to concentrate. “Inhale as you reach to the sky,” you say as you bring your arms up, “and exhale as you go down.” Exhaling, you fold your body down, hands touching the floor. You lead them through a sun salutation before indulging them in some more complicated poses and sequences.

“Our next pose is Crow, just remember to breathe and find your center.” You demonstrate before walking them through the steps. Yoga was one of the few things about your old life that you refused to give up. Even if you weren’t the most active person before waking up here, yoga and meditation were a huge part of your daily routine. Within a week of being here, you found yourself slipping out of bed early to find a quiet balcony.

The boys had stumbled across your morning flow today, and insisted on giving it a try. It was rare that you shared pieces of your past life with anyone, but their enthusiasm was infectious.

“Ah-” Joffrey lost his balance, falling to the ground in a fit of giggles. 

“So close sweet boy,” you laugh. “Try it again, you almost had it-”

“Mom look, I’m doing it!” 

You gasp, “Luke, that’s it! Hold it, and bre-”

“Breathe! I know!” Luke’s arms are shaking with the effort to keep the position, but you’re impressed he managed to get it on the first try.

Jace leans over and nudges Luke. Luke topples over with a yelp. “Mom, Jace pushed me!”

You struggle to keep from laughing at the petty squabble. It felt so normal and domestic to see them arguing like siblings back home. “Jace, apologize to your brother.” 

Jace grins, “Sorry Luke. Maybe next time if you breathe better you might not fall.”

Joffrey stumbles over to drop into your lap. You stand, propping him on your hip. “On that note my loves, I will be taking Joffrey to the nursery.” You kiss Jace and Luke on the forehead. “You two go freshen up, I will see you both for breakfast.”

They both give you a hug before disappearing. You turn to leave the balcony and nearly run into someone. “That was quite the sight, issa jorrāelagon,” Rhaenyra says, holding out her hands to steady you and Joffrey. [my love]

“Issa Dāria,” you greet her with a kiss. “Were you spying on us?” [My Queen]

“Me, a spy? Never.” Nyra laughs. “I have people for that.” She ruffles Joffrey’s hair before offering her your arm. You slide your free hand into the crook of her elbow, careful to make sure you had a good grip on Joffrey. “Daemon and I are both aware of your little morning ritual.”

“Oh?”

“How do you think no servants disturb you?” Rhaenyra teases. “Daemon and I take turns watching from the stairwell and keeping the staff away.”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “How long have you both known?”

“Since the first time.” 

“Maybe next time you can join,” you say, bumping your shoulder into Nyra’s gently.

“And forfeit the opportunity to watch your as-”

“Child present!” you hiss, interrupting your wife. Nyra laughs, shaking her head. You both walk the rest of the way to the nursery in silence, listening to Joffrey recount his brave efforts to master the Crow Pose. You drop him at the nursery, asking the maids to help him freshen up while you and Rhaenyra check in on little Aegon and Viserys.

“My queen,” you both stand up as a knight rushes into the room with a bow. “My queen, there is something that requires your immediate attention.”

“Whatever is the matter that it cannot wait until the small council meeting?” Rhaenyra asked. 

“There is a woman demanding an audience.”

“I am holding court later today, she can seek an audience then.”

“She claims knowledge of Lady Y/N’s illness.” 

Your gaze snaps to Rhaenyra and you lock eyes. There is a silent understanding before Nyra answers. “Bring her to the small council chambers and send for Daemon.”

You ask the maids to inform the boys of your absence at breakfast and follow Nyra to the small council chambers. “Do you think she really has an answer?”

“I do not wish to raise any of our hopes,” Rhaenyra sighed. 

Nyra stands by the windows, arms crossed as she waits. You pace the chambers. This was highly unusual. Maesters had come from all corners of the realm to offer their ‘wisdom’ and ‘cures’ for your ailment. This was certainly the first time that someone had showed up to demand an audience with the queen herself. The smallfolk and nobles were not privy to your condition. The maesters were summoned under vague direction and sworn to secrecy.

“Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.” 

Rhaenyra’s kingsguard stand at attention as the doors open to reveal a woman dressed in white, led by Nyra’s knights. You furrow your brows, unable to get a good glimpse of the woman through her cloak. The woman bows deeply to Rhaenyra, then to you. “Your highness. Lady Y/n.”

“And who might you be?” Rhaenyra asks, suspicion lacing her voice.

The woman nods, pulling back the hood of her cloak to reveal a curtain of white hair and cloudy white eyes. She looked young, but there was something about her that felt ancient. “I am no one.” She responds. “I carry a message from the gods.”

Rhaenyra scoffs, “you must be joking. You enter my keep, demand an audience, refuse to identify yourself, and claim to be a messenger of the gods?”

“You need not my name, only hear my words.”

“Which gods bade you come here?”

“The same gods you swore your marital oaths before.” Despite her cloudy eyes, the woman seemed to stare into Nyra. 

“What message do you bring? What do you know of my illness?” You ask, desperate for an answer.

“The worlds-walker speaks?” she grins. 

“Y/n,” Nyra warns. 

“Just tell me your message.”

“Your answers lie in the godswood.” The woman reaches into her pocket, and the knights immediately reach for their swords. Rhaenyra raises her hand, silently ordering them to hold. The woman pulls a necklace from her pocket. 

“Where did you get that?” you ask, voice shaking. “That’s the necklace my gra-”

“Your grandmother gave you on your fifteenth name day,” the woman finishes. She steps forward, placing the chain in your hand, clasping her hands over yours. “You must return to your world, worlds-walker.”

“Watch your words witch,” Nyra says coldly, stepping between you and the woman.

“How do you know of my world?” You ignore Rhaenyra, stepping away to face the woman.

“We are all pieces of ourselves.”

“What does that even mean?” 

“Words alone will not satisfy you. Go to the godswood, worlds-walker.” 

The doors to the small council chambers fling open as Daemon storms in. The woman in white grins. “The dragons circle today.”

“They will do more than circle if you do not explain yourself,” Rhaenyra growls. “Stop speaking in riddles and tell us what awaits us in the godswood.”

“Answers.”

“Daemon.” Rhaenyra doesn’t have to say more than his name before Daemon holds a sword to the woman in white’s throat. “What is in the godswood.”

“Wait!” you put your hand over Daemon’s, trying to pull the sword from the woman’s throat. “What are you doing, she knows what happened to me.”

“The witch speaks in riddles and lies,” Rhaenyra hisses. “Worlds-walkers are a story for children.”

“And dragons are no more than a fairy tale in my world.” You plead. “Please, how did I get here? What is a worlds-walker?”

“Go to the godswood.” The woman in white closes her eyes and pulls her hood up. Everyone in the room gasps as the cloak hits the ground, empty. The woman in white had disappeared, leaving only her cloak behind.

Rhaenyra sighs, “first maesters, and now we are so desperate as to listen to the words of witches?”

“Search the castle for the witch,” Daemon orders the knights.

“My love, I am so sorry for giving you false hope,” Rhaenyra apologizes, pulling you into a side hug. 

You shrug off her hug. “Where is the godswood?”

Rhaenyra and Daemon exchange a glance. “You are not seriously listening to the ramblings of a mad witch?”

“Either take me to the godswood, or I will find it myself.” You clench your necklace tightly. “You still do not believe me? Rhaenyra, she knew who I was, who I really am.”

“You are not a worlds-walker, Y/n!” You flinch slightly as Rhaenyra raises her voice. Her eyes are wide, “My love, I-” Rhaenyra reaches out to grab your hand, but you pull away. She sighs, rubbing her temples. “If it will help us forget this morning, we will visit the godswood.”

“Lead the way.”

Daemon and Rhaenyra walk in front of you in utter silence. Two kingsguard follow the three of you from a distance. Daemon leads the way as you walk through unfamiliar corridors to a garden. The trees sway lightly in the wind, their red leaves dancing.

“This is it?” you ask. “This is the godswood?”

Rhaenyra nods, “we will take you to the heart tree and back. If you do not find your answers here, we will never speak of this again.”

You follow them into the trees. It is eerily quiet in the godswood. The wind makes no noise as it moves through the leaves and branches. No noise of birds chirping or singing. You shiver, hugging your arms to your body to chase away the chill. “Daemon, can I have your cloak?” You look up to see that Daemon and Nyra are gone.

“Daemon?!” You yell. “Rhaenyra?!” There is no response. You turn behind you. The kingsguard are gone as well. “This isn’t funny!”

The hair on your neck stands up, and you whip around to see the woman in white.

“Welcome worlds-walker.”

NOTE: Hey gang! Guess who is finally getting some plot (ya'll). Sorry for the late chapter, I had a Pride parade on Sunday. Please enjoy the SHAMELESS fluff and slice of life before I give you all a very stereotypical vague witch to facilitate the plot. Also, there are some ppl who I can’t tag, so if you’re listed on the tag list and not receiving notifications, please check that your settings are on “allow this blog to appear in search results” or message me if I messed up the spelling! ~ Lacie <3

Taglist: @syraxnyra , @avalyaaa , @angeliccss , @clocksonthewall79 , @sia2raw , @forma-lina , @lorarri , @imoonkiss , @ba6ysworld , @abaker74 , @aniisbavk1 , @different-tale-student , @cruelladevil4,  @ronswhoree, @Lbl252003, @18dmlk, @beca2468 , @hnm-mika , @brocomegetyobitch, @pendejalian , @xoxoluvs-world, @lexasaurs634 , @jaydemon99 , @lovelyy-moonlight , @lavender2ari, @katiemars, @waitaminuteashh , @Judgementdayfan1, @shadyloveobject, @winterrnight , @malfoycassimalfoy , @Gracielacie , @serenitytomothings , @xoxo-shiyah, @Aoi_targaryen , @ghostlyvoidydragon , @spacexdrago , @asgardian1023 , @madamevirgo , @ahyespubes , @cowboybaby2 , @sm3156 , @ashlatano7567

Want to be added to a taglist? Click HERE!

[pedroscurls]

training partners (pt. 10)

summary: with your trainer's help this last week, you slowly find your way back to yourself again... and you finally have the courage to tell hugh more details about your relationship with jack and it only makes him angrier. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: angst - mentions of toxic relationship, verbal / physical abuse (not with hugh!). implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), no use of y/n. word count: 2.4k a/n: anyway, we're getting into the reader's backstory with jack, so it's going to be a bit dark... and consider this the first argument between reader and hugh... gonna be a tough next couple of chapters, but trust me when i say there will be a happy ending at the end of all of this! as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part. - next part.

You’d taken today off to drop your trainer off at the airport. This last week had gone too fast and while it was emotionally and mentally exhausting, it was just what you needed to remind yourself just how far you’d come. There’s still something lingering in the pit of your stomach, the anxiety that you’ll need to have a conversation with Hugh about everything that’s happened with you and Jack. He knows bits and pieces that you’ve shared before, but he doesn’t know the full picture. 

“You gonna be okay?” she asks. 

“I think so,” you nod. “I can’t let Jack run my life anymore.”

Your trainer pulls you into a hug, holding you tight. “You’re a good person,” she whispers. “And you never should have gone through what you did. He should have never put you through that.” 

You can feel tears stinging your eyes as you wrap your arms around her as well. She had been a godsend and so important in your journey in finding yourself again. She empowered you, motivated you, and helped you see just how worthy you are. 

When she pulls away, she smiles in your direction. “Hugh loves you,” she points out. “Allow yourself to be loved because you’re worthy of it. You’re enough.” 

You nod, wiping any fallen tears from your cheeks. “I just don’t want to disappoint him… What if he realizes that I’m not what he thought I’d be, that maybe all the pain I’m still working through isn’t worth it?”

She rolls her eyes playfully. “You don’t see the way he looks at you, do you?”  

You share your head. 

“Well, that man looks at you like you can do no wrong. Like you’re the only person that matters. Trust me, you are worth it.” 

“Part of me is also nervous… To talk to Hugh and tell him everything. He knows bits and pieces, but…”

“He’ll understand,” she replies. 

“And if he doesn’t?”

“He will.” 

You sigh and then pull her in for another hug. “Thank you for coming here, for being there for me. Again.” 

She lets out a quiet laugh and gives you a tight squeeze before she pulls away. “If Hugh wants to invite me back, let me know. I’d be happy to visit again,” she winks. 

“I’ll let him know. Get home safe.” 

“Remember how far you’ve come, okay?” she says. “And if Jack crosses any lines, it might be time to get the authorities involved.”

You nod in agreement. “I know… I just don’t want it to get to that point.” 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t.” 

—

Later that night, you’re sitting out on the balcony of the hotel room with a notebook on your lap. You had tried to write some talking points to go over when Hugh gets home. You know he’s going to be tired, but you know that if you don’t have this conversation with him, you may never will. 

You know he’s on his way back to the hotel and your heart races faster and faster. You can feel the anxiety course through your veins and even with the notes you had written down, you still don’t feel all that confident. It’s not the fact that you have to tell Hugh what happened, but it’s the fact that you’d have to relive everything that Jack had put you through. 

When you hear the hotel room door open, you stand up and turn to look over your shoulder and make eye contact with Hugh. He looks tired, but at the sight of you, his eyes light up and a broad smile lines his lips. This must be what your trainer was referring to… about the way he looks at you. It eases your nerves, calms you down and keeps you grounded because with Hugh, you have always felt safe. 

He steps out into the balcony with you and pulls you into his arms, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Hi, baby. Missed you on set today.” 

You smile to yourself and shut your notebook, setting it on the chair you were sitting on and away from his line of view. “I missed you too.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hands playing with the hair at his nape. “How was filming?”

“It was good. Movie’s coming along.” Hugh holds you closer to him, eyes falling shut as he holds you in his arms. This was what he was looking forward to all day. Being with you. He knows that this last week had helped a great deal, having your personal trainer here had helped immensely. You weren’t so much on edge anymore and it felt like things were going back to normal. Before Jack entered the picture. “And how was your day? You get home safe after dropping her off?” 

“Oh yeah,” you nod. “It was nice having her here. Thank you for doing that, baby. You really didn’t need to and–”

“I know,” he says quietly. “But I wanted to. I knew she would help… in ways that I couldn’t.” 

“I love you,” you smile. “I’m really lucky.” 

“I love you too, baby.” He pecks your lips and then slowly pulls away. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and maybe we can order in for dinner?” 

“Wait, Hugh…” 

“Yeah?”

“After your shower, can we talk?” 

Hugh’s brow furrows, biting the inside of his cheek as his hands move to rest on your hips. “What about?” 

“Just…” you bite your lower lip. “It’s nothing bad. I just–” 

Hugh tilts his head to the side. He can sense your worry, your anxiety, so he just nods and leans in to peck your lips lightly. “Okay, baby. We’ll talk after my shower.” As he turns to walk back into the room, you reach out for him and pull him back into a tight hug. Your face buries into his chest, arms tightening around his frame as you hold onto him for a few seconds longer. 

“You sure you’re okay?” he whispers. 

“I will be.” 

—

Hugh’s shower doesn’t last that long. He tries not to overthink about what you wanted to talk about, but he can’t help the tug he feels in the pit of his stomach. Now he’s worried, he’s concerned. He quickly changes into a pair of black sweatpants and a Global Citizen t-shirt. He dries his damp hair with a towel and steps back out into the room, seeing you still outside on the balcony. You’re writing in your notebook again and he knows that you only write when you have something on your mind, something that you can’t shake. 

Quietly, he steps out with you and smiles in your direction. Hugh watches you close your notebook, setting it on the small table. He doesn’t let you get up, instead, he scoops you into his arms and then sits in the same chair with you on his lap. 

“Okay, let’s talk, baby,” he says, leaning in to kiss your cheek as he drapes an arm over your legs. Hugh tries not to make it seem like he’s nervous and he isn’t even sure if you take notice because he can see that your mind has drifted, and can feel the tension in your shoulder blades. 

“Jack–”

“What?” 

You take a deep breath and move an arm around his shoulders. “I need to tell you about– about Jack.”

“Baby, you don’t have to–”

“I need to, Hugh.” 

He can see the tears in your eyes and a piece of his heart breaks at the sight. Hugh cups your cheek and gently brushes his thumb across your skin, leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose. “Okay,” he says softly. “I’m here. I’m listening.”

You nod and bite your lower lip. “So, we were together for three years…” 

“That I knew.” 

“The– The abuse, the manipulation, everything happened so fast. I didn’t even realize what was happening until I realized it was too late.” 

Hugh tightens his jaw. He feels anger bubbling within him, but he opts to remain quiet, to keep a neutral look on his face. He knows that you need this, that you need to tell him and he can’t react because he fears that if he does, you’re going to pull away and he knows how important this is that you’re telling him. 

“I had gotten used to his insults… so much so that I started to believe him.” you’re about to get off his lap, about to pull away from him, but he keeps a firm hold on you. When you look into his eyes, all you can see is the concern in his features and the subtle desire to take your pain away. 

“Oh baby…” Hugh whispers quietly. 

“I’m weak and I’m not brave,” you continue. “And that’s because of Jack. I should have left at the first sign of his verbal abuse, but I always–” you can feel your breath catch in your throat. “I always justified his actions. Always felt like it was my fault, that he was acting the way he was and saying the things he’d say because of me. Because I was making things difficult for him.” 

Hugh tightens his jaw when you look away from him, the anger simmering in the pit of his stomach. 

“And I believed him. I thought– I thought I could give all of my love to him and he’d see how much I cared for him, how much I was willing to do anything for him. Because I did,” you say with a disappointed tone. “I did love him and when he broke up with me – he broke up with me –” you shake your head. “It was my fault. It was always my fault. Mine.” 

“Baby, no…” Hugh shakes his head and cups your cheek, his gaze locked onto yours. 

“I couldn’t even break up with him, Hugh. All of the nasty things he’s said to me and I couldn’t–” you shake your head and stand up from his lap before he can pull you back. “I was heartbroken when Jack broke up with me because he made me believe that no one would ever love me… that I wasn’t worthy of love and I fucking believed him.”

Hugh’s foot taps against the floor incessantly. He wants to reach out for you, but he always wants to find Jack and cause him just the same amount of pain – if not more. But then, he hears the words leave your lips and he jumps up from his chair. 

“He hit me once.”

“What?” 

“Hugh…”

“No no, he what?” 

You bite your lower lip and stare up at him. You can see the anger clear in his features and you gently reach out for him, but he just shakes his head. He’s fuming, hands shaking at his sides at your admission. You know this was going to happen, had even expected this reaction, but seeing it firsthand is entirely different. You don’t know how you can even calm him down. 

“I got angry because he had made me make him dinner after a long fucking day at work and–” you sigh. “After that, I learned how to fight because I knew that if he put his hands on me again, I’d fight back and–” 

“Wait, he hit you? Put his hands on you?”

“Hugh…”

“No, baby.” Tears are now pooling at his eyes. “He doesn’t get to do that, do you hear me? He has no fucking right–”

“Hugh!” you raise your voice, staring up at him. “I’m not telling you this to make you angry. I’m telling you this so you can understand why he had so much control over me, why I reacted the way I did when I saw him that one night at dinner, why it’s so fucking hard for me to see how worthy I am of this, of you.” 

Hugh shakes his head. He’s trying – truly, he’s trying so fucking hard to understand (and there’s a big part of him that does), but all he can see is this man putting his hands on you, putting thoughts and words into your mind that aren’t true. 

“Give me his number. The number he called you from a couple of weeks ago,” Hugh says. 

“No.”

“Baby, he can’t just get away with thinking that what he did to you was okay. He can’t get away with still making you feel the way that you do.”

“What are you going to do? Go and beat him up?” you ask, shaking your head. “Hugh, you’d get arrested! It’d be all over the media and–”

“I don’t care!” Hugh yells – it’s the first time that he’s ever raised his voice at you and when he sees you take a step back, it brings him back to reality. “I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I just– I can’t fathom this man walking around thinking like he did no wrong, baby.” 

“Nothing you do will help him see that, Hugh.”

“No? Well he hasn’t dealt with someone like me and–”

“Just stop!” 

Hugh furrows a brow. “Baby–”

“No, Hugh…” you cross your arms over your chest, wanting so badly to just get away from this all, away from Jack, away from Hugh. “I don’t need you to save me… I don’t need you to go back to my past and make things better. I just need you to understand the shit I went through is what made me who I am today. And I’m still healing… I’m still working on it, and I just–” your breath catches in your throat once more. “You’ve been so patient with me, so understanding that I figured I’d at least tell you everything because… because I will have moments where it’ll be hard for me to snap out of it.”

“I know, and I appreciate you telling me all of this, baby–” Hugh sighs. “But I can’t just sit here and not do anything about it.”

“You know what,” you tell him, opening the sliding door to walk back into the hotel room. “I’m gonna go for a walk. I can’t be here right now. This wasn’t how I thought this conversation would go.”

“Baby, no–” Hugh walks after you, watching you pull on a jacket and slip on your shoes as you grab your bag. “Please, just stay. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you tell him quietly. “I just need some space right now.”

“I love you,” Hugh whispers. 

“I know,” you reply, grabbing the hotel key card and setting it in your bag. “I love you too, Hugh, but I just need to be alone right now. We both need to calm down before we say something we’re both going to regret.” 

You don’t give him a chance to respond because just as his mouth opens to say something, you’re already out the door. 

---

taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1

@wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf

@needz1nk - @fandomxo00 - @godlypresley - @kythefangirl25 - @callsignyourmom

@sue8724 - @squishyfruitloop - @sylviavf - @emotrash1 - @dissentientss

@sir-thisisadndserver - @absolutepie - @millajay - @itsallyscorner - @haytchee

@wolverigrl - @its-in-the-woods - @d3ad2you - @definitely-not-chill - @khxna

[p0orbaby]

I have a possible blurb request for mary earps please??

r still lives in england and mary’s over with psg. mary comes back from paris for international duty and finally gets to see r again.

maybe mary surprises r by coming back a day early and comes home to see r in mary’s psg shirt

-

The flat is too quiet, but you’ve learned to live with that. Mary’s voice used to echo through the place—she’s not exactly subtle when she’s home—but with her in Paris, it’s been quieter. Not lonely, exactly. Just… quieter.

Now, the only noise comes from the hum of the kettle and the faint tinny sound of some reality TV rerun you’ve half-watched four times already. You’re standing in the kitchen, her oversized PSG shirt hanging off you, half-distracted as you wait for the water to boil. It’s the away kit—black and gold—soft from too many washes. She left it behind, and you’ve convinced yourself she wouldn’t mind.

The kettle clicks off. You pour the water over a tea bag, take a sip too soon, and immediately regret your life choices.

It’s fine. It’s all fine. You’ve survived this long-distance thing so far, even if it’s been weeks since you’ve had so much as a proper hug. Mary texts, she calls, she sends voice notes when she’s bored on team buses, but it’s not the same. You keep busy—work, friends, this new phase of your life where you apparently cosplay as a PSG superfan when no one’s looking.

Then there’s a sound. A faint jingle of keys.

You freeze.

No one else has keys.

“Don’t freak out,” comes a voice from the door. Familiar. Dry. A little smug.

Your tea sloshes onto the counter as you whip around, heart hammering.

Mary’s standing there, suitcase at her feet, coat hanging off one shoulder like she’s just walked out of a bloody rom-com. Except this is your kitchen, and rom-com Mary probably wouldn’t be grinning so much at the sight of you in her shirt.

“You’re back,” you say, because your brain is apparently still catching up.

“Early,” she clarifies, stepping inside. She looks far too pleased with herself, green eyes glittering as she takes you in. “Nice shirt, by the way”

You look down like you’ve forgotten what you’re wearing. “Oh, this old thing? Found it lying around”

“Hmm. Looks better on you, honestly.” She sets her suitcase aside and crosses the room in two strides, pulling you into her arms before you can think of a reply.

The hug is as good as you remembered. Maybe better. Her warmth seeps into you, and you breathe in the familiar scent of her—something clean, fresh, with an undertone of cheap hotel shampoo.

“God, I missed you,” she mutters against your hair.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming back early”

“Yeah, well.” She pulls back just enough to look at you, hands still on your waist. “I thought a surprise might be fun. Looks like I was right”

You laugh softly, looping your arms around her neck. “You were right. For a change”

She tilts her head, grinning. “This time? How often am I wrong?”

You don’t answer, just kiss her instead. It’s been too long, and judging by the way she immediately tightens her grip on you, she feels the same.

When you finally pull away, you’re both a little breathless.

“So,” she says, voice lighter now, “are you going to keep that shirt on, or do I get my wardrobe back?”

You raise an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’m giving it back?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she says, her grin turning cheeky as she leans in, voice dropping just enough to make your heart stutter. “I might have a few ideas to convince you”

Your tea goes cold on the counter, but you don’t really care.

[peachsayshi]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ being wrapped in your arms feels like coming home ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

wc: 1,820

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: here is a little drabble in honor of toji's birthday! this piece was originally titled as "adoration" but I changed it to this instead. I'm taking a small posting break, but I'll be back to my regular schedule within a week! I'm sorry if I haven't been responding to tags or messages, but I will do so soon <3 I hope you're all having a wonderful time and I'm sending all my well wishes out to you! xo

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: widow toji; age gap (reader is 30 while toji is in his early 40s); a little angsty; toji attempting to break up with you but failing because he's oh so in love

toji overstayed his welcome which was only supposed to last the scorching heat of summer, but he found himself lingering through the quiet stillness of fall. winter came in with a brisk chill and gloomy skies, and that's when toji knew it was time for him to end things with you.

he’s lost interest far quicker in previous relationships. they served their purpose of healing over the wound in his heart, of soothing away the ache of loneliness. he oftens forgets that he was once a loyal, loving husband whenever he abandons yet another fling.

the difference, however, is he at least had the guts to verbally cut things off before.

fucking pathetic, he thinks as he scolds himself. he's been a coward, reducing his actions to disappearing before the sunlight peeks through the horizon, and avoiding any chance of waking you up. he ensures that he is never there to see the way your brows furrow with concern when your hand meets the cold pillow, because otherwise he would falter in his attempt to escape.

this has been going on for over two weeks now but last night was the first time you've actually snapped at his cold, detached behavior. he approached the argument with nonchalance to wither you down, shrugging off the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach and then walking out halfway through the fight.

he stayed at a motel thinking that maybe you have finally taken the hint that he's done.

he arrives back to his apartment only to be met with unfamiliar silence. the entrance of his home is dark and lifeless, and it's so quiet he can even hear a pin drop. there's a tightness in his chest, followed by a wave of disappointment that runs over him like a feverish shiver.

despite his hard headed decision, he's still anticipating on hearing your lovely voice to greet him as he walks through the door.

he knows it's selfish.

toji expected many things to happen after last night's fight. he figured the reaction to him leaving you (again) would be far bigger. a screaming phone call or a string of cursing text messages to call him out on his shitty behavior.

after all he deserves it for acting like an insufferable asshole.

he tries to swallow his guilt but it remains lodged in his throat when he acknowledges that this might actually be the end. 

the expression on his features falls.

it’s better this way, he consoles, dragging his feet across the floor to approach his kitchenette. he shrugs off his beaten up, oversized coat and tosses it over one of the chairs. he opens one of the cupboards, and grabs a mug to prepare himself a cup of tea.

she’s too young to settle for a guy like me, he continues. widowed with two kids who he barely sees anymore, working paycheck to paycheck just to make ends meet…

a deadbeat.

he exhales, swirling his brew in his ceramic cup. the aroma of sweet leaves dances up the spiral of steam to kiss his nose.

she deserves more than me.

he places the kettle down but stares at the cup mindlessly, losing all train of thought as his hands grip onto the edge of the counter. 

he can acknowledge that his insecurities are clouding his judgement on something truly special, even though this was only ever meant to be purely physical.

except, the sex was growing more intimate. the experience wasn't about pleasure for him anymore. he would find himself losing all focus to the depth of your pretty eyes, stealing kiss after kiss like your mouth was the source of where all his happiness belongs.

belonged.

belonged.

it’s over now, he thinks again. it has to be.

a faint patter of footsteps distracts him, prompting him to ease his hold on the counter as the muscles on his face relax. his heart steadies itself, and he draws in a breath when he feels two arms delicately twine around his waist.

“you’re...still here...” he points out in shock. 

he feels you press your forehead into his back. “of course, where else would I be?” 

he clears his throat to release the guilt then spins on his heel to face you.

"I thought you might have taken off," he bluntly states as he rests his lower back against the counter.

his heart swells, emanates flurries of golden sparks when he meets your gorgeous irises. the will to carry on with his decision crumbles when he catches the corner of your mouth tick into a slight grin.

"I thought about it," you reply casually, loosening your grip to place your palms flat on the side of his stomach. "but the truth is I'm worried about you and I just…want to talk things out…make sure you're okay...”

“I’m the one acting like a jerk and you’re worried about me?” he blurts.

you quirk your brow at the slip of his question. “so, you know you’re acting like a jerk?”

toji’s eyes widen slightly, a hint of pink tainting his cheek. “I asked the question first.”

you purse your lips playfully, aware of the crack that's been revealed and ready to swing once again with another blow.

“it’s because you’re acting like a jerk that I’m worried about you,” you explain, “you’re not yourself when you’re unsettled about something…”

his face warms, the hue of pink deepening into a stronger blush. the familiarity of pointing out his personal traits feels all too homely. seven months shouldn’t feel like a forever but in this bubble with you time ceases to exist.

you trail the pads of your finger tips up his torso, your hands clasping around the back of his neck as you press all your soft and sweet parts right up against the frame of his body.

the brush of your lips on his scar prompts him to flutter his eyes close. he fails to stop himself from holding you then, his firm hands reaching for the outline of your waist

“so,” you murmur with a tempting kiss as you return to your question, “you know you’re acting like a jerk then?”

please don’t make me say it, he thinks, please don’t make me unravel right in front of your eyes.

he squeezes your side, whispering a defeated “listen…”

“did I do something wrong?” you question, a hint of pain laced through every vowel which only makes his heart ache further. “did something happen?”

toji shakes his head.

“it’s not you,” he grumbles. “look, you asked me a couple of weeks ago if this thing between us was serious and…it shouldn’t be.”

you narrow your gaze, tilting your head with adorable confusion that makes toji want to kiss you right there on the spot.

he can feel you pluck at the fabric of his sweater nervously, “why not?”

toji drops his head and sighs.

“c’mon, doll, let’s be real. I’ve got nothing to give you other than a good fuck in this shitty apartment. you're better off finding someone else and I don't want to waste your time”

you press your mouth into a firm line. “your behavior…” you reply, nipping your bottom lip slightly as you gather your thoughts. “are you acting like this because you…want to end things with me?”

toji has never felt smaller. you’ve reduced him into a shriveled pea rolling around his scuffed up boot. “look, it’s better this way, alright?” he admits with a raise of his head, still refusing to outwardly say what you easily deduced. “it's better to move on before things get too complicated…”

the silence hangs heavy in the air, the tension so thick toji feels like he can’t breathe properly. his heart rattles with no restraint, and he finds himself suddenly lightheaded. an apology rests on the tip of his tongue, ready to take back everything he just bombarded you with but his throat simply tightens once more when your hands cradle his strong jaw.

“I like your apartment,” you quietly speak, “your bed sheets always smell so good, and you fixed the water pressure after I complained that it sucked…”

toji blinks back his surprise.

“I also notice that you burn the candle that I got you and that you switched laundry detergents when your old one gave me that weird rash,” you giggle and toji couldn’t help but huff out an embarrassed laugh himself. “the windows let in the best kind of sunlight, and it’s always so cozy in here…”

you press your lips against his mouth to leave a chaste kiss, “as for the company…” you add on, nuzzling the tip of your nose over his, “I consider you more than just a good fuck.”

toji can physically feel himself wilting underneath the heat of your gaze. “I’m just looking out for you, doll.”

"you can look out for me by making me breakfast instead of running away from me..."

he looks serious but his eyes are sincere, holding a level of tenderness that he only reserves for you. his palm moves to seek out your lower back, a hint of pressure pulling you back into his warmth.

your lover has stayed tight lipped about his past, but over his period with you he's found himself spilling out a few secrets here and there.

"I haven't done this in a long time," he vulnerably admits.

"I know," you reassure him, "but...the real question is, do you want this?"

he parts his lips ready to seal the last nail in the coffin, ready to give you the chance to walk out of his life for good. but you're gazing up at him from underneath your eyelashes, your determined stare an opening of your own mercy. your plush, supple lips summoning his cowardice into oblivion.

"toji?"

his breath hitches, his apprehension silenced by the urgency of his desire.

you're so lovely, he thinks. you feel like home.

"I want you," he reveals, his deep voice smoky and untethered, releasing enough sentiment in those three words that he can feel you tremble in his arms. "I just don't deserve you. I don't want you getting caught up in my bullshit..."

""you're a lot sweeter than you look, you know?" you run your fingers through the streaks of his black hair, combing it back to reveal his forehead. "you deserve to be happy, toji, and...and I think I can make you happy..."

your aura beams with delight when he flashes you a wolfish grin in return. a smile you've grown to adore so deeply. his apology comes in the form of a kiss, one that's gentle and slow. a stroke of fire burns up the back of your neck, making you quiver in places when he glides his tongue across yours. you hum softly into his lips while he releases a content sigh, the barrier he's been keeping up turns to ashes beneath your feet.

[deafsignifcantother]

annoying alastor

♥ summary: you wake up too early for your own liking and end up spending your time distracting alastor from his morning paper ♥ relationships: alastor x g/n reader who wears hearing aids ♥ word count: 600 ♥ reader details: reader looks just like a human, they have demonic powers though and uses them to fuck with people, alastor likes them teehee awww. ♥ notes: story is 100% spoken dialogue, this is for the people who liked my other drabble

You are kinda piece of shit, though not intentionally of course. Usually not. But sometimes you get bored, and seeing demons as strong as Alastor look at you with pure annoyance can be fun. He'd never hurt you, but god does he want to sometimes.

Things like taking off your hearing aids when he's trying to talk to you and walking away gets under his skin. Or when you pretend they aren't even on and ignore him before responding to someone else. But occasionally, it's less simple.

"I like your animal features." You lean against the couch where he sits, crossing your arms while perched. He holds the morning paper in his hands, not looking back at you. He does tense, though, painfully aware of your hands and where they might be. But you don't touch him. You stand there quietly, looking over his shoulder, your presence an itch. He can feel your breath when you lean in. You hum. It's a simple noise, and he turns to look at you.

You're gone.

Then he hears your voice next to him, opposite where his head is facing. "I wish I had some."

He closes his eyes. So this is how his morning is going to be. He turns to you again, staring into your innocent eyes. They almost captivate him. Almost.

He slightly shakes his head, looking back at his paper. "They're nothing special, darling."

"I could have been a deer."

He doesn't look back at you.

You add, finally capturing his attention. "We're matching."

And when he meets your eye, he flinches back. You have a pair of deer ears, the same color as your hair, perched on the top of your head, facing him. They even twitch.

He scrunches his nose, unimpressed.

You hum again. "Or a cat."

The ears on your head morph into cat ears, and a tail even peaks through your pants and wraps around your leg. But the features disappeared as quickly as they came. "A spider?" Three eyes open on your cheek.

His head whips back down, his eyebrows furrowed.

Your voice comes to his other ear. "Scary, huh?"  

The eyes are gone as if they never formed. Alastor tilts his head, turning to your changed position and squinting at you. Your theatrics are fun when you pull them on somebody else, but sadly, he is the only person awake.

"Are you usually this bothersome, or am I special?" He asks, rummaging through his memory. To his displeasure, you place a hand on the newspaper and push it down slowly, rendering it unreadable.

"You're special."

He makes a noise similar to a grunt. "And why are you up this early?"

"Early bird gets the worm."

"The second mouse gets the cheese, dear."

"Nice, I like that, that's funny." You smile, and in response, his smile tightens. You lean in. "Can you read me the paper? I wanna know stuff too."

His gaze is locked on yours, unwavering. If you're going to stay quiet through it, then maybe, but how likely is that? While at the same time, you don't have the habit of interrupting. Beyond the pestering, you are quite polite. You hold doors open for Charlie, and you actually pay attention to Angel's disgusting stories.

Alastor sighs, a hand going to the back of the couch, inviting you in. You are quick to take the place next to him as he wraps his arm around you to hold the other side of the newspaper. He sets the page in place with a small tightening grip and begins reading. But once he focused away from you, you let your ears melt into your skin, and the hearing aids drop; you sneakily catch them and hold them in your lap. You lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. Mission accomplished.

[munsonsfairy]

I always see bbf abby but never sbf, so maybe older abby x friends little sister (of age of course, like about to graduate college) 🕺🏽 reader is visiting her sister and she sees abby type thing idk

Btw, your work is amazing 🙂‍↕️🩷

love me tender ✨🐚🤍🌸🐠

author’s note: thank you so much! i appreciate you for reading and sending in a request. i hope you enjoy! thank you for @katemartinis for proofreading. 🤍

abby wants say yes to heaven, say yes to you, and let fear she has fall away. you thought you were only a lost memory to abby until this summer. now, you’re standing in front of abby in the rain with shoes full of water staring at each other.

content: fluff with angst. summer before graduation. 18+ no smut. no specific descriptions of reader but is feminine.

word count: 2.2k

The salt air coming in from your open window cools your skin from the summer heat. You're lying on your bed watching season three of stranger things as you always do at the start of summer. Or at least you were watching it until your best friend, Jackie, came over. It's the summer before your senior year and you’re trying to soak up every bit of it before you graduate.

You and Jackie made a list of what you want to do this summer consisting of tanning to getting matching tattoos to trying out surfing. Luckily you live on an island making it easy to complete. today you wanted to check off going to the aquarium off your list. While you were going through your closet for an outfit, Jackie was talking about a boy she swears she’s in love with after knowing him for two weeks.

Finally, you found the dress you were looking for. You always felt your best while wearing it and thought your skin glowed with the color. you stood in front of the mirror in awe.

Downstairs, you hear the door slam and someone yell to your mom that they’re hungry.

It's your older sister, Sarah coming back from volleyball practice. You both might be lesbian, but someone was definitely dropped too many times as a baby. You hear your mom greet Sarah and someone else.

“Well look who it is. my favorite Anderson!”

Abby. Anderson.

She's your sister’s best friend and also plays in the same volleyball team. You've had a crush on since you laid eyes on her. The way she carries herself and listens to you always filled you with butterflies. making eye contact with her blue eyes made you dizzy. Her love for books makes you wish you didn’t get so flustered around her so you could ask her about what she’s currently reading.

There was something about Abby that had your heart wanting more. she always knew how to pull you in. Unfortunately, she was off limits. your older sister made you promise you wouldn’t complicate things and ruin her friendship, but it takes two to tango. the stolen glances and subtle touches can only last so long before Sarah gets suspicious. Neither you nor Abby have confessed any real feelings, but it was enough to raise red flags for Sarah.

You feel yourself getting nervous at the thought of seeing her again. You haven’t seen Abby since last summer since she wasn’t home for Christmas. the four of you camped out together at the beach since the weather was more tolerable compared to summer. Sarah and Jackie fell asleep, so the both of you laid down next to each other looking up at the stars. Abby was a nerd when it came to constellations. She pointed out every single one she found, then it got quiet letting you only hear the waves crashing.

You felt at peace and closed your eyes to take it all in. Abby turned her head and admired you as she always did. The next morning, you woke up to Abby holding you close to her chest; her breath tickling your neck. You look up to see the blonde deeply sleeping. Her eyes lashes so long and freckles covering her skin. Being an early bird has its perks when you wake up before your older sister sees you cuddling her best friend.

Your reminiscing is soon interrupted by your older walking into your room eating a sandwich and laying on your bed with Jackie.

Just in record time, Abby comes behind her but doesn’t go into your room. Instead, she leans against your doorway focusing on the one person.

Through your mirror your eyes made eye contact with the bluest eyes you’ve seen. her freckles covered her sun kissed skin. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest making her arms show off for you.

Abby’s eyes rake over your body, drinking in every curve before meeting your eyes again. She tried to be discreet but couldn’t help but admire you.

She thought you were glowing and couldn’t believe such beauty existed, but you always proved her wrong. She loved way your eyes crinkled with your laughed at her joke. Oh my god she thinks I’m funny. Those were one of the few times she saw your true personality.

SAY HI IDIOT. Abby’s mind screamed at her.

“Hi.”

Her voice filled with honey and softness. You feel your knees get week and feel a shiver run through your spine. Abby notices and smirks then looks away to let you breathe.

You mentally kick yourself for not evening answering. It's one word!! two letters!! stupid stupid stupid!!

Thankfully, your sister and Jackie were too busy in their own world to notice or so you thought.

“I’m sure it would be fun if Abby came with us!” you turn to Jackie with wide eyes who is smiling knowing what she’s doing.

𓆉⋆.˚ 333 °‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

Since Sarah and Jackie went to the reptile exhibit, you and Abby stayed on a bench admiring the open ocean exhibit. Reptiles weren’t really your thing. The blue hues fill from the water paint the walls. It feels like the fish are moving in slow motion. You're in awe of the two stingrays swimming together it almost looks like they are dancing.

Although, the sea creatures were beautiful, Abby couldn’t focus when she felt your arm touching hers, or your hands brushing against each other when you were walking next to each other earlier. If only you knew how it took everything in her not to reach for your hand. she has been this close to you before but today felt different. The peace she was feeling was something she wouldn’t be able to put into words.

“Do you think seals have spots?” Abby asked as suddenly.

“Hm?” You missed her question when you turned to look at her. you feel a little embarrassed by how she can easily throw you off.

She laughs, “Do you think seals have spots? Owen swears up and down he saw one spotted. He says saw one and I haven’t heard the end of it. Not saying I want to prove him wrong but…” She trails off.

“Oh, definitely. Have you considered researching your question? I mean you do know how to use your phone, right or do you need assistance?” You laugh at her.

Abby playfully rolls her eyes, “You think you’re so funny, huh? I personally would love to see this seal in person.” She shrugs.

You laugh but this time Abby fully sees you. She wishes she could freeze time and just look at you forever. To make you laugh and smile every day.

“Do other people think you’re funny?”

Abby looks towards the fish tank shaking her head but still smiling, “No, they don't.”

For a moment you didn’t let your nerves hold you back, so you squeeze her bicep, “Let me be the first to tell you that you are very funny.”

You lay your hand back down to your lap, but Abby reaches for it and holds your palm up. She traces the lines on your hand and finally decides that it’s now or never.

It felt like she was on Saturn, and it was only the two of you. Nothing else mattered. All of her nerves were gone. It felt like a dream, but the warmth of your hand reminded her it was real.

“You're staring,” you whisper.

“I like looking at you,” Abby whispered back smiling.

Abby raises her hand reaching for your cheek. Her thumb gently rubbing your soft skin; scared to break you. She drags down her thumb to your lower lip sending a shiver down your spine. The world slowed down for the two of you. Abby admired every detail on your face just in case this was the last time she was this close. She could smell the coconut perfume you spayed earlier. She knew what color your eyes were, but they were so much better up close. Her eyes flickers from your lips to your eyes. Abby felt herself leaning towards you as if it was the most natural thing.

“Oh, are we interrupting something?” Jackie asked smiling.

Out of fear, Abby dropped your hand and pulled away from you. “N-no,” she stands up quickly and walks in front of you away from the group. Luckily, your sister didn’t see since she was walking a bit behind Jackie. The rest of your time at the aquarium Abby avoids looking at you after that. It's all gone.

𓆉⋆.˚ 444 °‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

The car ride home was filled with tension. Abby had barely said a word to anyone. You sat in front while she drove back to your house staring at the raindrops that filled the window. Summer might be your favorite season, but hurricane season makes you wish it was over already.

You finally got the confidence to look at the blonde next to you and see nothing but an emotionless face. Her eyes aren’t the same blue you saw earlier. They look empty. Abby must have felt you staring because she sighed and made sure you heard it.

Your brain replays what happened earlier over and over like a record player. There was never a moment where Abby looked at you the way she did right now.

After what felt like hours, she drove into the driveway of your house. Your sister and Jackie quickly got out of the car leaving you alone with Abby. You felt a knot in your stomach and don’t feel words come out when you open your mouth. Out of habit you anxiously pick the skin on your fingers.

“Wanna come in? I think we’re going to order some pizza. Sarah always orders way too much food for us to finish,” you ask trying to break the tension.

Abby clears her throat, “Uh, I can’t tonight. rain check? I’m pretty tired it was a long day.” Her eyes never met yours since you were at the aquarium. You missed her blue eyes filled with love. Now you couldn’t tell what she was feeling.

“Oh sure! We have the whole-.”

“I think it’s getting late don’t you think? I’m sure they’re waiting for you,” she interrupts. You hear the irritation in her voice and almost leave, but you needed to ask her why she changed her attitude in a matter of seconds. You really thought today was the day you’d finally tell her what your heart feels. How you much you find her funny and think she deserves to have someone love her.

“What changed, Abby? I know it wasn’t only in my head what happened earlier, or did I imagine it?”

Abby sighs and looks towards her fingers, “You didn’t imagine it, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be together. We're just good friends and I don’t think it’s the best thing to do. I mean what will you sister think?”

Her heart beats for you but she could never admit it to you. She's watched you go from relationship to relationship to break up to break up. yet, she can’t get the words out to tell you.

You scoff, “Just good friends, huh? you’re so full of shit, Abigail. I mean you were there! was I the only one who felt the feeling?”

“What feeling,” Abby asked confused.

“You know! the feeling! The feeling you get before you kiss someone for the first time. The excitement, anticipation, and butterflies in your stomach. The way your heart flutters when you finally kiss the girl you love!” You were talking so fast and just ranting now that you didn’t even notice you confessed your feelings to her.

“Wait what?” Abby was shocked but knew she shouldn’t be. She was there and so were you.

“Honestly, I don’t know why I’m here explaining this to you and expecting you to understand. Just next time, don’t look into a girl’s eyes and say you like looking at her if you’re planning to be an ass.” You open the car door and start running to your front door without getting soaked by the rain.

It took Abby two seconds to finally realize the girl of her dreams is running away from her. Abby ran out of her car leaving the door open without a care.

“Do you really want to know how I feel?!” she yelled out.

“I’ve never loved anyone like you! I’ve never felt so much peace before in my life! Everything about you consumes my being it’s frightening. This love I feel for you is so beautiful yet so scary. If choosing you means that I am losing your sister as a friend, then fine!”

You felt like your heart was beating so hard as you stared at Abby trying to process everything.

“And you couldn’t say all of that in the car, Abigail!? I have water in my shoes, I’m cold, and we-.”

Abby grabs you with both of her hands and kisses you. It takes you a couple seconds to process and kiss her back. Your eyes fluttered closed and you felt everything happening all at once. Her lips are softer than you imagined and so familiar. Your hands move to her braid making her moan into the kiss and letting you slip your tongue inside. She wrapped her arm around your waist bringing you closer to her.

“Wow…” you were breathless with your eyes still closed. When you finally opened them, Abby was smiling and looking into your eyes. She leans in again and whispers, “Can I do that again?”

[evolucious]

A Return of Care : Zayne x Reader

For a moment, the weight of the world seems to lift from his shoulders, and he’s just Zayne—your Zayne—who’s finally allowing himself to be cared for.

pairing : zayne x reader (no gender specific terms are used to describe the reader)

prompt : Zayne is, once again, working past his limits and finds himself sick. With a bit of coaxing he just might take care himself. (aka, zayne is sick but he says "nuh uh")

genre : sfw, fluff, slice of life, zayne please get some sleep, sick fic

word count : 2,976

a/n : oh wow did i finally return after months with another Zayne one shot? I sure did.

The soft chime of the hospital’s automated door echoes in the hallway as you step into the familiar space, your footsteps light against the polished floor. The box of macarons cradled in your arms smells sweet, a gift you picked up on your way over, a small token of appreciation for Zayne. You know how much he loves these, especially after a long day of seeing patients.

As you approach the reception desk, Yvonne, the staff nurse, looks up from her station with a warm smile. She recognizes you instantly—you’re practically a regular here, visiting Zayne for your routine check-ups or just to chat when he has a free moment.

“Hello, Yvonne,” you greet her, returning the smile. “I’m here for my 7:00 PM with Doctor Zayne.”

“Right on time, as usual,” she replies, tapping a few keys on her console. “I’ll page him to let him know you’re here.”

You nod, leaning against the counter as she sends the message. The familiar hum of the station’s systems thrums in the background, a constant reminder of the vastness of space just beyond the walls. You glance around, noting the quietness of the evening shift. The lobby is calm, most patients already seen and gone, leaving behind an air of peacefulness.

Yvonne looks up, a slight frown creasing her brow. “Strange… he’s not responding.”

You raise an eyebrow. Zayne is usually so prompt, always ready to greet you with his warm smile and steady presence. “Maybe he’s in with another patient?”

Yvonne shakes her head, her frown deepening. “His last appointment ended a while ago. But I’m sure he’s just caught up with some paperwork. You can go ahead and see him—he won’t mind.”

You hesitate for a moment, but the familiarity of your relationship with Zayne pushes the doubt aside. “Alright, thanks!”

She waves you off with a reassuring smile, and you make your way down the corridor, the path to Zayne’s office as familiar as your own home. The door to his office is slightly ajar, a sliver of light cutting through the dim hallway. You knock gently, waiting for the usual, cheerful “Come in!” that always follows. But today, there’s only silence. 

Worry knots in your stomach as you push the door open wider. The first thing that hits you is the warmth—the room feels stuffier than usual, almost stifling. As you step inside, the source of your concern becomes all too clear.

Zayne is slumped in his office chair, head tipped back, eyes closed in what looks like a fitful sleep. His usually smooth brow is furrowed, lines of discomfort etched into his features. His skin has a slight sheen to it, and his usually neat appearance is disheveled. A small collection of cough drop wrappers is scattered across his desk, and the wastebasket beside it is filled with used tissues. The sight sends a jolt of worry through you.

“Doctor Zayne?” you call softly, moving closer. When he doesn’t stir, you reach out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Zayne?”

His eyes flutter open, and it takes a moment for him to focus on you. When he does, he tries to sit up straighter, “You’re here early,” he rasps, his voice rough and strained.

“I’m right on time, actually,” you reply, concern lacing your words as you take a glance at the clock on the wall beside him. 

Zayne rubs a hand over his face as he clears his throat. “Yes well, please take a seat. Let's get started with your check-up”. He says, swiveling his office chair to drag a stool beside his desk before gesturing for you to sit. 

Before you can protest, he’s already reaching for your chart, fumbling slightly as he tries to pull it out of the stack on his desk. You can see the strain in his movements, the way his hands tremble slightly as he flips through the papers. He’s clearly pushing himself, trying to go through the motions despite his obvious illness.

“Zayne–” you say, your voice soft but firm. Despite being a few feet away from you Zayne carries on as though he didn’t hear you. He pulls out his stethoscope, clearly intent on examining you despite his condition. “Let me just—”

“Zayne, stop.” you plead, gently pushing the stethoscope back down. “You’re always telling me to rest, to take care of myself, but you’re obviously not doing the same. I know you want to work but you’re in no shape to help others right now. Don’t be a hypocrite, Zayne. Please, let me take you home so you can get some rest.”

He hesitates before looking directly at you for the first time this evening, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the strength to argue but there’s a crack in his resolve, a momentary flicker of vulnerability and the weariness in his eyes makes your heart ache.

But then he shakes his head, grasping for excuses. “You must have rode your motorbike here. You cannot bring me home on that.”

“I walked,” you counter, undeterred. “And I even stopped to get macarons on the way.”

His eyes shift toward the box of macarons sitting on his desk, a brief flicker of interest breaking through his exhaustion. Zayne’s sweet tooth is one of the things you’ve always found endearing about him, and you can tell that the mention of his favorite treat has caught his attention.

You smile gently, teasing him just a little. “I was going to give them to you, but I don’t think you should have sugar given your current state.”

His stoic demeanor falters, a slight crack appearing in his resolve. It’s as if the macarons are the final straw, the deciding factor in this small battle of wills. He doesn’t say anything, but the way his shoulders sag and his eyes drop back to the desk tells you he’s given in.

He lets out a weary sigh and murmurs, “Just don’t drive my car the way you drive that bike.”

Your heart lifts with relief, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “No promises,” you let out a soft chuckle, glad to see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

As soon as the apartment door closes behind you, Zayne seems to deflate, all the energy he had left draining away. He heads straight for the sofa, plopping down with a heavy sigh, his head resting against the back cushions. His eyes are half-closed, exhaustion etched into every line of his face.

“You know,” he murmurs, a faint smile playing on his lips, “your driving isn’t nearly as reckless as you like to pretend it is.”

You chuckle softly, sitting beside him on the sofa. “Only because I had precious cargo this time.”

He gives a small, appreciative hum, but it quickly dissolves into another cough. You watch him with concern as the fit passes, then reach out to brush a lock of hair away from his forehead. His skin is still warm, but the tension in his body seems to have eased a little now that he’s home.

“Why don’t you rest for a bit?” you suggest, your voice gentle. “I’ll make you something warm to drink. Take a shower and we then can eat those macarons together when you’re feeling up to it.”

Zayne opens one eye, peering at you with a look that’s both amused and resigned. “Only if you promise not to hoard them all for yourself.”

You laugh, the sound light and comforting in the quiet of the apartment. “Deal.”

As you rise to head to the kitchen, you glance back at him, knowing that you’ll do everything in your power to make sure he gets better—because, after all, Zayne is worth every bit of care and more.

The space is sleek and modern, with smooth countertops and neatly arranged appliances, but as you stand there, a realization hits you—you have no idea where anything is.

Your eyes scan the cabinets, trying to guess where Zayne might keep the tea. You hesitate, fingers hovering over the handle of a cupboard, unsure if it holds cups, plates, or something entirely unrelated. A small sigh escapes your lips as you inwardly curse your lack of foresight. How hard could it be to find a simple teapot in here?

Just as you’re about to open the wrong cabinet, you hear Zayne’s voice call out from the living room. “Top left, above the stove. Teapot’s in there. Tea’s in the drawer below.”

You freeze for a moment, slightly startled that he’d known exactly what you needed without even seeing you. It’s like he can read your mind—or maybe for some reason he’s just that familiar with how people fumble around in unfamiliar kitchens.

“Thanks!” you call back, relief flooding through you as you follow his instructions.

Sure enough, you find the teapot exactly where he said it would be, and the tea nestled in a drawer below. You set some water to boil, then rummage around for a mug, the task becoming easier now that you know where to look. As the water heats up, you glance back toward the living room, half-expecting Zayne to have dozed off again, but the faint sound of his cough reminds you that he’s still awake, though probably exhausted.

When the tea is ready, you carefully carry the steaming mug back to the living room. Zayne’s eyes open as you approach, a tired but grateful smile tugging at his lips. You hand him the mug, and he takes it with a murmured “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Dr. Zayne,” you reply with a mock-serious tone, sitting down beside him on the sofa. “Though I should let you know, I’m your attending physician now. I’ve learned from the very best as an intern, after all.”

Zayne arches an eyebrow at, the corner of his mouth quirking up in amusement. “Oh? And what does this new ‘attending physician’ believe is the diagnosis?”

You adopt a serious expression, holding out your hand as if it were a clipboard. “Let’s see…” you say, pretending to write on your palm. “The diagnosis is… one very stubborn doctor who refuses to rest when he’s sick.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he takes a sip of the tea. “I see. And what do you prescribe, Doctor?”

“I prescribe– a warm shower, cozy pajamas, and a strict order of rest. No exceptions.” you say firmly, finishing your fake note. 

Zayne’s eyes twinkle with amusement as he looks at you over the rim of the mug. “Sounds like a pretty detailed prescription. Are you sure it’s not too advanced for me?”

“Well,” you say, tapping your chin thoughtfully, “it’s a tough regimen, but I think you’ll manage. And if you don’t follow it, I might have to put you on an even stricter bedrest.”

Zayne chuckles again, the sound warm despite his rough voice. “You’re really getting into character, aren’t you?”

“Only because I had an excellent mentor,” you tease, giving him a playful nudge. “But seriously, Zayne– no more pushing yourself.”

For a moment, the teasing air between you fades, replaced by something softer, more earnest. Zayne looks at you, and though he doesn’t say anything, you can see the appreciation in his eyes. He knows you’re right, and even though he’s always been the one to take care of you, he’s beginning to let himself lean on you now.

There’s a vulnerability in his posture that tugs at your heartstrings, and without thinking, you reach out and gently place your hand on his forehead. His skin is warm beneath your touch, confirming what you already knew—he’s running a low fever.

Your hand drifts from his forehead to his cheek, your thumb brushing softly against his skin. “Zayne,” you murmur, your voice filled with concern, “I don’t like that you let yourself get like this”

Zayne’s eyes remain closed, but he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek against your hand in a gesture that’s both tender and weary. He lets out a low, affirming hum, a sound that’s as much a comfort to you as it is to him. For a moment, the weight of the world seems to lift from his shoulders, and he’s just Zayne—your Zayne—who’s finally allowing himself to be cared for.

After a moment, he reaches up and takes your hand from his cheek, holding it gently as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. His eyes remain focused on your hand as he speaks, his voice soft but resolute. 

“Alright Doctor, I’ll follow your orders.”  he says, his tone carrying the weight of sincerity. “I promise.”

You smile at his words, knowing he means them, but also knowing that it might take some gentle reminders to make sure he follows through. “Good,” you whisper, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “That’s all I ask.” 

“Now, go take that shower. I’ll make sure everything’s ready for you when you’re done.” Zayne nods, setting the mug down on the coffee table before rising from the sofa. As he heads toward the bathroom, you can’t help but feel a surge of warmth in your chest. It’s a role reversal, but one that feels right. Zayne has always been there for you, and now, it’s your turn to return the favor, even if it means coaxing him into taking care of himself with a bit of playful banter.

As the sound of the shower starts up, you settle back on the sofa, feeling content in the knowledge that Zayne is finally letting himself rest—and that you’re the one making sure he does.

After opening the window to let some fresh air into the apartment, you stand there for a moment, debating whether you should stay and make sure Zayne gets to bed. The idea of leaving him alone doesn’t sit well with you, but something tells you that he’ll be alright. He’s taken care of you so many times before—maybe it’s time to trust that he can do the same for himself.

Your gaze drifts to the box of macarons on the coffee table. A small smile tugs at your lips as you pick up the box, thinking about how something so simple could bring him a moment of joy even when he’s feeling so run down. You can’t resist leaving a little surprise for him, so you carefully take out one macaron and place it on the kitchen counter where he’ll easily find it when he emerges from his shower.

With the rest of the macarons in hand, you head toward the door, glancing back at the closed bathroom door one last time. The sound of running water is still steady as you slip out of the apartment, closing the door gently behind you. Your steps are light as you make your way down the hallway and you can’t help but wonder if Zayne has felt this way each time he’s cared for you—leaving quietly after making sure you were settled in, with a warm heart and a lingering sense of connection.

The cool night air greets you as you step outside, and you breathe in deeply, feeling refreshed and content. The box of macarons in your hand is a small reminder of the connection you share with Zayne, and the thought of him finding the one you left behind brings a smile to your face.

The next morning, you wake to the sound of your alarm buzzing beside your bed. You groan softly, rolling over in your sheets as you burrow deeper into their warmth, reluctant to leave the comfort they offer. You’d been so exhausted when you got home that you fell asleep almost immediately, and now, the weight of that sleep is still heavy on you.

For a moment, you lie there, savoring the last remnants of drowsiness before you start your day. It’s your morning ritual—waking slowly, checking your notifications, and letting the world come into focus at your own pace.

You reach for your phone, swiping it off the nightstand and bringing it close as you scroll through the usual morning updates. Emails, a few messages, and then one that makes you pause. It’s from Zayne, sent last night after you’d already gone to bed.

With a mix of curiosity and anticipation, you open the message, feeling a small flutter in your chest as you wonder what he might have said.

The message from Zayne opens with a photo of the single macaron you left on his kitchen counter. Beneath the image is a teasing caption: “Is this how I’m rewarded for following doctor's orders?"

You can’t help but laugh softly as you read his message, imagining the expression that must have accompanied the text. You quickly type out a reply, your fingers moving swiftly over the screen.

“You know, most doctors give their patients one sticker on the way out for being good sports. What kind of doctor would I be if I didn’t give you a reward?", a smirk playing on your lips as you hit send.

It doesn’t take long for his response to come through. "Touché. When can I schedule my next routine checkup? Maybe I can earn some more."

You grin at the thought, leaning back against your pillow, you type your reply.

"I’ll have to check my schedule, I’m suuuuuuuper busy Doctor." 

With that, you set your phone aside and stretch, feeling a sense of contentment settle over you. Zayne’s message, as playful as it was, reassures you that he’s okay—and that he’s starting his recovery with a bit of lightheartedness, thanks to you.

It’s a good start to the day, and as you finally roll out of bed, you can’t help but feel a quiet satisfaction knowing that, this time, you were the one who got to take care of him

{pls dont repost i beg}

[luvhughes43]

birthday | quinn hughes

luvhughes43 masterlist🌙

request: can you write an angsty one for quinn where he forgets your birthday because he’s busy with hockey and you fight about it and then you give him the silent treatment the next day and he tries to make it up it up you 

note: i changed it a little bit! 

word count: 1.2k words

you waited all day with baited breath, wondering when your boyfriend of three years would acknowledge your birthday. usually, depending on both of your work schedules, quinn would take you to your favourite cafe for breakfast and then later in the day he would cook one of your favourite dishes for dinner. In between meals, you’d spend the day doing whatever you wanted, which usually just meant going for a walk and maybe to the mall.

you woke up early and got yourself dressed and ready for the day. quinn was already gone to the gym which wasn’t unusual, so you scrolled through your emails while you waited for him to come home. 

quinn didn't come home till noon. 

“hey babe,” quinn greeted you quickly, pecking your cheek before he rushed into your shared bedroom. you swivel around on the bar stool you were sitting on, eyes following quinn as he jogged from your bedroom and into the bathroom. 

when he reemerged from the room, bag in hand, you frown. “what are you doing?”

“the guys are going to this new place.. some new gym downtown”

“oh,” you deflate, “weren’t you just at the gym tho?” 

“yeah but babe, this one has an ice bath!” quinn explains enthusiastically, as if the addition of an ice bath should outweigh the excitement that was your 24th birthday. 

“right…” 

“we're not working out or anything. just checking the place out. It's good for team building” he adds.

you stare blankly at him, wishing that this is just some elaborate joke and that he has a plan for your birthday. 

“right well, i’ll see you later!” quinn flashes a quick smile as he leans down to kiss your cheek again. 

“bye…?” 

quinny: going out for dinner! so sorry we didn't get to spend any time together today. wanna do dinner tomorrow night?

quinny: the teams really getting on good! I think we’ve got a close group here

it was 6pm, you were alone, and in approximately 10 minutes you would officially be 24. how great is this? you thought sarcastically. you were about to be 24, in a too nice apartment, with a boyfriend who completely forgot about you. 

you pulled your cookies out of the oven, dropping the tray on top of the stove with a clatter. tears sprung to your eyes as you pulled out a small pack of glittering candles. you didn't even get an invite to quinns dinner tonight. 

you watched your candles go out slowly while you imagine how you should've spent the day. Happy birthday to me… 

“hey baby, what did you do all day?” quinn asked as he slipped into bed next to you. his alarm clock had blinded you with the time, 11:24, lit up in a cutting shade of red. he tried to hold your gaze, but you turned over. he had actually forgotten.  

quinn grabbed at your shoulder, but you shrugged him off. “I’m tired,” you whispered through the ball in your throat. if quinn talked about his day, you might actually cry.

“what's wrong?” quinn asked, genuinely concerned. he sat up in bed, reaching over and flicking his lamp on. 

“I’m not talking about this tonight”

“well, no. if you're going to say something then say it. what did i do wrong this time?” you rolled around to face him just as he finished his sentence with an eyeroll. 

“excuse me?” you were seeing red. 

“just tell me what i did wrong so i can fix it. did i leave a sock on the floor?” he jokes, quickly surveying the room and noticing that you cleaned earlier. 

you sat up in bed. “you're such an asshole! you know that right?” 

“woah! no need to get angry! i just wanted to go to bed. Its late.” 

“yeah well, i wanted to celebrate my birthday with my boyfriend today so i guess we don't always get what we want, huh?” your voice is venomous as you climb out of bed. you rip your pillow off the bed with every intention to sleep in the guest room. 

quinns shocked expression was almost comical. his eyes wide, eyebrows raised, and mouth slightly agape as he finally realized what was bothering you. with how busy his new schedule was due to being captain, he had completely forgotten about you.

“y/n don't go! I’m so sorry!” quinn kicks the comforter away from him as follows you down the hallway. 

“I don't want to talk to you right now,”

“baby, please! I swear I didn’t mean to forget-” quinn started but you abruptly cut him off. 

“i don't want to hear it! I waited for you all day! I shouldn't have to remind you when my birthday is! We talked about it literally last week!”

“I’m sorry! I’ll make it up to you!” quinns words fell on deaf ears as you slammed the guest bedroom door in his face. 

as soon as the door was locked, you let all your emotions of the day out. your sad uber eats delivery, raw cookies, the moping around… quinn. 

quinn stood on the other side of the door, face in between his hands as he listened to you cry. 

the next morning, quinn was on good boyfriend behaviour. he had bought you a bouquet of your favourite flowers, made you breakfast, and had a birthday card waiting at the table for you. 

you rubbed at your eyes tiredly as you made your way into the kitchen. you had gotten absolutely no sleep last night, and you were still upset at quinn. 

quinn watched you in silence as he set the last piece of french toast in his pan. you glanced up at him before averting your gaze towards your gifts. 

To Y/n, 

Happy 24th Birthday. I love you beyond words. 

Quinn

“Quinn,” you sighed as you set the card back on the table. 

“It’s a shitty card I know,” you can’t help the small smile that graces your lips . “I’m so sorry. I called in sick today.. we can do something or you can do whatever, its up to you! I just really want you to know that i’m sorry” he sets the fresh piece of french toast onto a plate before sliding it over to you. 

“I know you're sorry,” you say, stepping over and into quinns open arms. you stand there for a minute, quinn softly rubbing your back while you lay your head on his shoulder. “I just felt really awful”

quinn hums to acknowledge what you were saying. “I know. I don't know what was wrong with me”

“you have new responsibilities q. you're going to be busy with the team” you put his thoughts into words and it was his time to sigh. 

“Still. There’s no excuse” quinn hugs you tighter. “I love you”

“I love you too” you whisper into the side of his neck, arms tightening around him. 

It wasn't okay that he had forgotten, but at least he was making an effort to fix it.

[togenabi]

apothecary diaries

vinsmoke sanji (opla) x fem!reader

♡—you need peppermint for a salve you're making, but sanji bought all of it, and that's seriously not fair.

word count♡— 3.7k

genre♡— fluff

content notes♡— opla sanji, afab!reader runs an apothecary and likes to make things, inaccurate chemistry for the sake of the story, mentions of flames in bottles, please do not do that, no use of y/n, not fully proofread

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— I love sanji sm he makes me cry. might be first in a series, but we'll see. please enjoy. xoxo, belle.

The third time a pirate entered your shop, you genuinely considered closing up early today.

You level him with a stare despite the man being twice your size. You cut him off before he can get a word out.

“No, I don't have anything that works against people made of rubber.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you gesture to the rest of your wares. “Now, are you going to get anything else? Or should you be on your way?”

He leaves, disgruntled, but without a fight.

A huff escapes your lips. The nerve of these people.

Ever since that outrageous bounty for that new pirate came along, suddenly every pirate and pirate hunter in the East Blue was gearing up to chase after him. All the poisons that were gathering dust in your storage were cleared out within days of those posters showing up.

It was good berry at first, but they got more aggressive, and started demanding more of everything. More doses than you were comfortable handing out. More dangerous poisons that could kill everyone in the room if the seal loosens by even a crack.

You took up this apothecary business because you wanted to help people. It wasn't exactly your dream to become a poison dealer.

The shop bell rings again. Thankfully, this time it's one of your elderly neighbors and not a pirate seeking poison.

The old lady smiles at you, the sides of her eyes crinkling. “You seem to be quite busy these days, dear.”

“If only they were paying customers like you, Ma'am.” You pick up a box of loose tea from the shelf, already knowing her usual order.

She gasps in concern. “Oh my, did they steal from you?”

“Only my time.” You grimace slightly, remembering how many pirates barged in last week.

“Would you like some honey with this? We have fresh jars from today's shipment.” You offer as you tally her order.

The lady hums in agreement. “Yes, I think some honey would be lovely.”

During slow days like these, you like to tinker with new recipes to sell. On a desk at the very back of the shop, obscured by thick curtains, is your beloved workstation.

You review your notes from the previous day. You'll need to get some peppermint for the healing salve you're developing. Taking a small jar of the experimental paste, you test a small amount on your hand.

Indeed, it needs more peppermint. Maybe you should use extract instead of crushed leaves next time, so that the texture is smoother.

The problem arises when your go-to herb supplier says he's run out of peppermint.

“Please tell me you're kidding.” You groan, looking down at your sadly empty whicker basket.

“M’sorry, lass.” The vendor shrugs, not looking very sorry at all. “You just missed the guy who bought everything. I promise I'll get you your peppermint next week, though.”

Resigned, you sigh, reading through the rest of your shopping list. The salve, at least, can wait a week as it's still a work in progress. The rest of your list, however, are crucial ingredients for your usual bestsellers.

“Fancy looking lad. He asked about spices. Told him to go to the shops down by the river.”

Your stomach drops. Everything else you need are sold by those shops.

Mentally cursing that vendor, you run as fast as your feet can take you. You're not letting some tourist get the better of you when it comes to ingredients.

You reach the river in record time. You'd feel proud if you didn't feel winded. Even so, you scan the road for anyone matching the tourist's description.

There doesn't seem to be anyone remotely fancy around. Triumphant, you go on with your shopping.

You begin to feel better as you cross more things off your list. You've almost forgotten about the peppermint incident, if only you didn't suddenly smell so much of it pass by.

A tall blond man walks by, clearly doing a lot of shopping based on the boxes of supplies he's carrying. The scent of peppermint hits you again. In a paper bag, at the very top of the boxes, you spot bunches of those leaves you've been so desperate for.

You can only clench your jaw in frustration and frown at the back of his head. He purchases a large amount of meat and fish in the next stall, and you gather that he must be some sort of chef. No normal person buys so much meat that the shopkeep offers to deliver everything. But that's what happens to this fancy looking lad. He must not be normal then.

“Yes, my ship's in the docks. You can't miss it, thank you so much for your help.” He smiles. His blue eyes wander the stall, then travel to the next stall over, where you are.

There's a moment of surprise when he finds you already looking at him, but his expression changes instantly into a suave one. It almost makes you want to back away, but you stand your ground when he approaches.

“Aren’t you stunning? I was feeling tired, but your pretty face woke me right up.”

You turn away, pointedly ignoring him. He can't flirt with you while smelling like peppermint. It's just not fair.

“Sorry for the hold up, lass. What's it you need?” The shopkeep you were waiting for shows up just in time. You continue to not pay the blond beside you any attention.

“Cinnamon and salt, please.” You respond. “Pink, if you have any.”

“I'll have the same, good sir.” Fancy pants says. “Though, my salt doesn't need to be pink.”

As the shopkeep rummages through his supplies, the blond continues to speak to you. Why does he keep speaking to you?

“Pink salt is lovely to look at, same as you,” He begins, “But other than the color, there really isn't a difference to normal salt, isn't there?”

He shrugs, his broad shoulder shifting his suit jacket slightly. “You're paying extra for the same result. It's all the same when you cook it.”

“I'm not using it for cooking.” Is your only response.

The shopkeep returns before the stranger can reply. “Here's the salt for you's.” He hands you a bag of pink rock salt, and the stranger a bag of regular salt.

The dread from the peppermint vendor returns when you realize the shopkeep is holding only one bag of cinnamon. He pats it and says, “I could split it so you both get half.”

“I was here first.” You insist desperately. “Sell it to me.”

“...My hands are tied here, lad.” The shopkeep sells you the cinnamon, and it's quickly tucked into your basket when you get your hands on it. The stranger doesn't barter for it. Good.

And with that, you cross out cinnamon and salt from your shopping list. You were able to get everything except the peppermint, which stays neat and legible at the very top of the list.

You crumple the paper and toss it into a nearby bin before making your way back to your shop.

“Are you on your way to get some peppermint?” How did the stranger catch up with you so quickly?

“No.” No matter how much you wish you were.

You try to walk faster, but his pace is steady even with a large box under one arm and several others tied up with twine held in his other hand.

“But it was on your list.” He seems to be very interested in your dealings. Is he always this dedicated when he flirts?

You cross the bridge that arches over the river together. The townsfolk who recognize you and not the man next to you begin to whisper amongst themselves.

It takes everything in you to resist rolling your eyes. After a week of pirates, you suspect your shop will be full of gossiping neighbors soon.

“A certain someone bought all the best peppermint today.” Of course the scent of it wafts over you again as you say so.

“Ah.” Understanding dawns on his face. “I see, I'm sorry if that inconvenienced you.”

It was your turn to shrug. You were about to say that it was okay, but then remember that you wouldn't be able to complete your salve until next week.

You pout before you can help it. “Did you really have to buy all of it?”

He breathes out a laugh. “I normally wouldn't, but my friends tend to have endless appetites. It always pays to have plenty of supplies.”

Even in the middle of the bustling street, a certain group of strangers stand out. They're gathered outside the tavern. You don't know any of them, but you recognize one of them as that infamous new pirate with the exorbitant bounty on his head.

“Speaking of my friends...” The blond trails off, nodding towards that particular group.

You just about stop in your tracks. He's with them? He's a pirate?

Okay. A rich, flirtatious tourist you could deal with. A random pirate crew? You would probably still be fine.

But the crew with the highest bounty in all the East Blue? That's just asking for trouble to happen.

While the stranger is distracted by his friends, you slip into an inconspicuous alleyway. You'd have to go a little further around to reach your shop, but that's alright as long as you avoid those Straw Hat pirates.

Luck seems to not be on your side, though. Because fancy pants shows up to your shop later that evening.

He grins. “You didn't tell me crossing that bridge together meant something. I would have talked about something more romantic than peppermint if I knew.”

Of course, word travels fast in a small town. You should have known someone would tell him. And that he would be able to find you easily if he wanted.

“How does the legend go, again?” He asks teasingly. “If two people cross the bridge together on the day they meet... Theirs souls are bound.”

“It's a myth.” You dismiss his charming grin and try to ignore him.

He leans his elbows on the counter that separates you. He's hunched down, but still towers over you somehow.

“It's romantic. And I'm glad it happened to us.” He smiles. “May I at least know the name of the person my soul is now bound to? Mine's Sanji.”

“Well, Sanji. Are you going to buy something?” You ask and avoid giving him your name.

Sanji, surprisingly, nods. He grabs two cans of your special handmade tea and a large jar of honey.

“I'll buy these,” He places the items on the counter. “And give you this.” He holds out several sprigs of peppermint. You blink at him in surprise.

“...Thank you.” You gingerly take it, and carefully set it to the side.

You're silent while you ring up his order. It's when you're taking out a paper bag for him that you finally cave and reveal your name.

The smile that blooms on Sanji's face isn't how you expected it would be. You expected him to look arrogant, to look proud that he was able to sway you like he did other women before.

But he looks at you sweetly, dimples showing and eyes sparkling. You wordlessly hand over the paper bag.

“A pleasure, darling.”

You would have thought that would be the last time you saw Sanji. But, be it luckily or unfortunately, he finds you the next day with the rest of the Straw Hats tagging along.

Only this time, they seem to be on the run.

You hold open the door for the Straw Hats and, one after another, they flood into your shop. Sanji smiles and says something about your hair, but you can't process the words with his friends scattering to hide.

“Sanji, what the fuck?”

“I know, I know, love. I'm sorry we had to reunite like this. We just need to lay low for a bit.” He reassures you, caressing your shoulders as he does.

“I'll make it up to you! I'll cook you a romantic, candlelit dinner.”

You frown at him, unimpressed.

Sanji kisses his teeth and sighs. “I'll give you the rest of the peppermint.”

You perk up instantly. “Deal. You can all hide in my workstation.”

“Hi, I'm Luffy!” Their captain greets you jovially. “That's Zoro,” Luffy points to the swordsman. “Nami,” The woman. “And Usopp.” The one hiding under your counter.

“Of course, you know Sanji already, being soulmates and all.”

You trip on nothing, and Sanji grabs your hand to steady you. You glare. He just smiles.

“Your shop is really cool!” Luffy exclaims, looking at all the trinkets on the shelf.

“Thanks.” You say dryly, pushing the curtain partition aside. You lead them to the back of the shop.

“Make yourselves at home.” You wave a hand towards the couch and some chairs around your desk. They should be fine here as long as they don't need to stay the night.

Through the gaps in the window blinds, flashlights and shadows stream into the room. There seems to be an active search party out for these guys. You suddenly can't believe you agreed to this for peppermint.

Zoro, whose three earrings glint in the light, shifts to scratch at his chest. You spot bandages from the gap in his shirt.

You grab the small jar of salve from your desk and toss it to him. He catches it, but looks from the jar to you and back, confused.

“It's a healing salve I made. It should help soothe your skin.” You explain.

The swordsman still looks unsure, but opens the jar anyway. Zoro sniffs its contents, and tries putting a small amount on his chest.

You beam at him, unable to help feeling proud at how his shoulders visibly relax after using it.

“Thanks.” Zoro says simply.

“No problem.” You nod back, still smiling.

Luffy looks at the jar as if it's a miraculous cure-for-all. “That's amazing.”

“It smells really good, too.” Usopp says, sniffing at the air around Zoro.

“Do you sell that here?” Nami asks.

“I will, once I make more.” You answer. You never realized how uplifting it was to share your work with new people.

Subconsciously, you turn to Sanji. But, why is he frowning? You follow your gaze to find he's looking at the jar in Zoro's hand.

Before you can ask him if anything is wrong, Luffy bursts out excitedly, "You're a doctor! You should join our crew!"

You wince. “No, I'm a chemist.”

“Cool!” Luffy's enthusiasm does not wane. “So you can heal, right?”

You're about to correct him before they assume things out of your pay grade when Usopp claps his hands in realization.

“She's even better than a doctor!” Usopp insists. “She makes the medicine that the doctors give out!”

Just as you were about to interfere with how much they were overestimating your skills, the shop bell rings. You turn to the clock. Shit, you should have locked up twenty minutes ago.

You meet everyone's eyes and they all nod, understanding that they need to be quiet. You switch off the lights in the back room for good measure.

The customer is a pirate you've never seen before. He looks angry, glaring at every possible hiding spot in your shop. Particularly the room you just came from.

You're careful to completely shut the curtain behind you.

“How can I help you, sir?” You put on your best customer service smile. “I was just about to close the shop, but if it's urgent, I'll help you find what you need.”

The pirate grunts. He's not buying what you're selling at all.

“Perhaps some calming tea? You look like a refined gentleman who would enjoy this.” You hold up a can of tea as if that will help you seem less suspicious.

“What's behind the curtain?” He points behind you accusingly.

“My work area, where I make all the fine products you see before you.”

Stomping forward, he seems to have had enough of your stalling. Fine.

Just as he's about to bash his fist down onto your counter, you grab a suspicious looking dark jar. You hold it up threateningly.

“The hell is that?!” The pirate snarls.

“Haven't you heard? I'm the go-to poison dealer in all the East Blue.” You bluff. “A whiff of this, and you'll sink like a rock, my friend.”

He freezes, but glares at you more fiercely. You pretend to twist the lid.

“Y-you'll kill yourself too, then!” He barks back. “Let's see your bullshit poison then.”

“Oh, but that's what makes me so brilliant.” You grin, laying the act on thick. “I'm immune to all the poisons I make.”

Your hand settles ominously on the lid. “Shall we test who survives?”

The pirate scrambles to leave. He's out before you can blink. Without missing a beat, you lock the front door and draw all window blinds down.

You rest your back against the door. Letting out a loud exhale, you almost let yourself slide down to the floor. How long do you have to deal with pirates like that?

Thoughts of yesterday with Sanji at the market fill your thoughts. If only all days could be like that, where the worst of your problems had been a peppermint shortage.

“You guys can come out, now.” You call out to the Straw Hats.

“Uh... Is that really poison?” Usopp asks, staying very far away from the jar.

You laugh, though it comes out airy due to your tiredness. “No, those are just some herbs I left to ferment.”

“How brilliant of you, love.” Sanji is beside you in a few strides. Him and those long legs.

“Was he the one you guys were hiding from?” You ask. The crew members shake their heads.

“No, actually.” Nami says. “We were hiding from a bunch of—”

Your shop explodes.

Sanji is quick to pull you into his arms and shield you from the debris with his own body. For a minute that feels like eternity, you can't hear anything. Your ears are ringing, and dust clouds over all your years of hard work. You sob into Sanji's arms.

“No!” You cry out.

Marines step into the shop, wood planks cracking and glass panels shattering under their feet. There are so many of them. You don't understand. Even if you hid the Straw Hats here, they shouldn't be allowed to destroy private property, right? Right?

“We got a report of illegal poisons in the area.” The leading officer states, his face stoic. “Just our luck that we run into pirates as well.”

You look to the Straw Hats, all of them are positioned to fight, save for Sanji. He's still cradling you protectively.

Taking a shaky deep breath, you lift your hand to rest it on Sanji's arm. He instantly looks down at you, silently asking if you're alright.

You're not yet, and if you're being honest, you'd rather stay in his arms until everything is over. But you nod anyway. Sanji gently lets you go and gets ready to face your new enemies.

“Get them all.”

Chaos breaks, and you run to duck behind a shelf that toppled over. The Straw Hats put up a good fight, but there are just too many Marines. Your eyes find round bottles of herbs scattered around you, and you come up with an idea.

“Guys!” You yell. “Buy me some time!”

“Anything for you, darling.” Sanji winks at you before sending a Marine flying. You gape at his audacity. The rest of them don't even react, but you notice they rotate slightly, surrounding you to keep you from being interrupted.

Grabbing as many of the bottles as you can, you stuff them with shards of wood and more dried leaves. You take rocks from the debris and strike them together.

With a few sparks, the herbs and leaves catch fire. You act fast, throwing the bottles at the Marines.

The bottles shatter, bursting into flames once they hit their mark. The Marines panic and become disoriented, giving the Straw Hats an advantage despite being outnumbered.

Eventually, the Marines run and scatter, leaving only the few bravest of them to fight. The Straw Hats make quick work of them.

When the battle is over, you watch the dust settle over the ruins of your apothecary. It's going to take years to earn enough berry to restore how everything once was. You can't help but feel heartbroken.

Sanji sits down in the rubble next to you, wrapping you in another embrace. You let yourself fall into him.

“We'll help you get everything back. I promise.” He swears, voice slightly muffled into your hair.

“Or, you could come with us! Join our crew!” Nami hits Luffy on the shoulder.

“What? It's true!” Luffy insists. “We need someone like her!”

You pull back from Sanji's embrace to look at him. He doesn't say anything, but something tells you he wishes for you to come with them. The others look at you expectantly as well.

No one speaks to persuade you further. But when you compare this rag-tag team to your ruined apothecary, your answer suddenly feels very clear. If you're to slave away to earn the berry for rebuilding your home, why not spend that time with them?

The back of the shop is less affected, even if the sight is still dreadfully sad. Your notes are thankfully intact, and you're able to find a bag and shove some extra clothes into it. It saddens you that you're so quick to pack up your life, but you'll come back. Someday.

When you return to the others, they're all smiling. Sanji more so, but you should have expected that.

He holds out his hand, and you reach out to take it.

“I change my mind,” You jest. “I'll take that romantic candlelit dinner now.”

Sanji laughs loudly while he guides you to walk over the rubble safely. You catch some of the others laughing too, but they walk a ways ahead you and Sanji.

“Like I said,” He says with his signature grin, “Anything for you, my dear.”

Your mind must be playing tricks on you, because he still smells like peppermint. Now, that's really not fair.

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

[majestichyuk]

Sweet spot

Pairing :- Masseur!Jaemin x fem!reader

Summary :- After much convincing, maybe not at your own will, you finally agreed to get that much-needed massage, Thank you Seungkwan. 

Genre :- Smut (because I’m nice like that), fluff if you squint (you'll definitely see it), coworker Seungkwan, strangers to potential lovers. 

Wc :-  3.7K 

WARNING :- Reader has a nipple piercing (cause she, YOU are freaky like that.), teasing, dirty talk, Buff Jaemin, yes that is a warning, Jaemin loves the booty (you shouldn’t be surprised) so ass is being ATE just a lil lick is all, Jaemin is a pussy fiend. Female receiving, oral, cum eating, sexual tension. (I think that’s all ), sry for mistakes if there is any.

NOTES :- This here lady sluts and gentle whores is my first half smut that was in the making. I spent an hour and a half working on it, so I’ll check this off as the 4th story I’ve successfully completed 🎉 kudos to me. I hope you enjoy it and if you do comment and if you don't and think I could improve something still comment or message me anonymously, cause critique can lead to my improvement but being bitchy will get you nowhere, ANYWAYS, LIKE, REBLOG & FOLLOW. 

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

“Why don’t you just come with me to the spa on Saturday, huh y/n?” Your best friend/coworker, begged you as he grabbed your arm, tugging you lightly.

“Do I look like I have time to go to a spa?” You licked the tip of your finger as you skimmed through the documents that your lazy boss rudely dropped on your desk, without uttering as much as a please.

“And plus, Saturdays are clean-up days, my cousin is a lazy fuck and I have to suffer from it,” You itch the crown of your head, slightly groaning realizing you might have to do an all-nighter once again on a Friday evening with the load of work in front of you. 

“Why don’t I take some of these with me,” Seungkwan lightly squeezed your hands as he took up about 60% of your work from your desk. 

“That way you can have a good night's sleep, while I plan our day out tomorrow,” Seungkwan squealed as he imagined finally getting to pamper you but you had to rain on his parade.

“No” You took the papers from him and placed them in your folder.

“No?” He looked at you in disbelief.

“I didn’t stutter, I won’t burden my work on you, it’s fine,” You reassured him.

“But you didn’t put your work on me, I volunteered,” He snatched your folder and took out the papers he had before, getting up from his seat and placing them in his briefcase.

“And I don’t want to hear any more nonsense about you doing all the work at the house when your cousin is a grown MAN,” Seungkwan picked up his suit jacket and swiftly put it on.

“Ah Kwannie, It’s really not a big deal– okay…” You stopped uttering a word when he hit you with that stare, a stare only a child of a strict and overprotective mother would understand, it was bone-chilling really.

“Good, I’ll text you the details so make sure you fix yourself up nice and be punctual,” Seungkwan placed his polyester scarf around his neck and ray-ban his glasses on (yes he wears ray-bans shut up). 

“Go home, finish off the work, do whatever you do at night, that ritual of yours whatever, and sleep well, sleep early,” Seungkwan pulled you up from your seat and pulled you into a hug.

“You sure you don’t like girls, I’m just saying if you’d allow me to slap on a strap I’d make a heck of a guy,” Seungkwan pushed you off and picked up his phone, giving you a side glance.

“Girl if you don’t go home, goodbye.” He laughed richly as he walked out, leaving the office. You followed the same routine minutes later and headed home. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------

Seungkwan ended up sending you the website for the Spa he had been rambling about for weeks on end as soon as you stepped into the door of your house. You decided to check it out after completing your office work and getting ready for bed.

After an hour and a half, you flopped into your bed, finally getting to relax. You checked the time, normally you’d finish work around late 11 but now it was around 8:35p.m, thanks to Seungkwan that was your earliest, EVER. You did a light prayer for him because he’s an angel.

You covered yourself with your sheet and opened your and Seungkwan's messages where he sent the link, you exchanged words with him before you clicked the link. 

He told you he already made the reservation on your behalf and because he was close friends with a guy named Wonwoo there, he was able to get a discount. He told you your first appointment would be a massage done by some woman named Na Jaemin, it should be an easy name to remember because before you started working in your current job you were a daycare teacher and there was the cute little girl whose name was IM Jaemin, oh was she a menace.

The website just showed all the available procedures, the cost, and the exaggerated descriptions of the long-lasting after-effects of the excellent experience. You turned your phone off, turned it over, and went to sleep.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

Loud, obnoxious snores were coming from your room, your cousin slowly opened your door, peeping inside to check to see if you were okay, living, and not choking to death.

He walked up to your bed and pinched your lips shut. “You need to change your settings on that noise that you’re making,” He looked at you in disgust, shaking his head, and watched as you stopped breathing and shot up from your sleep in a sitting position, knocking him on his ass on the floor. 

“CHENLE WHAT THE FUCK?!” If looks could kill you’d have a red dot aimed at your forehead right now. Chenle got up and dusted himself off.

“You do know I could hear you snoring all the way across the hall?” He used his thumb and pointed outside your door, You rolled your eyes and checked your phone.

“Oh fuck!” You jumped out of bed, shoving Chenle out of the way, he landed on your bed and flopped on the floor as you grabbed your towel and rushed into the bathroom. 

“YOU’RE WELCOME YOU MIX-BREED ASSHOLE!” Chenle shouted as he stormed behind you.

“CLEAN MY HOUSE YOU OBNOXIOUS PIECE OF SHIT!,” You replied as you slammed the bathroom door, minutes later you heard his bedroom slam as well, and you rolled your eyes.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

“Don’t look at me like that,” You sulk as you look away from Seughkwan. So you woke up late and got there late and when you arrived you were met with a disappointed Boo Seughkwan, arms crossed, legs over one another as he sat outside of the Spa company in the few seats placed outside, looking at you blankly.

“I have every right to jump you in this very moment–..but I’m not going to because I have a reputation to obtain here,” He got up and walked inside, with you following behind.

“Just know I would never go down without a fight, there’s only one of us who actually took boxing classes,” You raised your brow at him as he flicked your forehead and told you to keep quiet as he spoke to the receptionist.

You purse your lips as you look around the establishment, It has a cozy feel. The decor is so homely with some pictures of the employees that work here placed up on the wall, warm colors decorated the place as it was spotless you could almost see yourself on the tiled floors. 

The receptionist lady asked you about your information and told you to wait in the available room on the second floor. 

“Enjoy your massage babe,” Seungkwan says as he quickly places your hair in a bun (If you imagined your hair up, unimagine it, 💀 boo put it up for you). 

“I heard he’s amazing at his job AND he was highly recommended when I filled out the server on your behalf,” You froze after registering his words.

“He’s?Him?He?” You side glanced at him. “Why didn’t you feel the need to mention a dude is gonna be feeling me up Mr. Boo?” You forced a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

“Get me a masseuse Seungkwan,” 

“Y/N-”

“Get me a masseuse Seungkw-,” Seungkwan used his index and thumb to pinch your lips together. (Justice for y/n’s lips in the chat)

“I love you Y/N, I do, but last time I checked I paid for this shit, and you are going to enjoy every last minute of it, Okay?” Seungkwan asked.

“Fine,” You say with a smile that transforms into a dirty look. “This better be the most mind-blowing and toe-curling experience I’ve ever had.”

“And it would be the only and first experience you ever had,” Seungkwan mumbled as he walked to the elevator after signing some papers. 

“What’d you say,” You questioned.

“Nothing,” He laughed as he pinched your cheeks while calling you all sorts of baby names.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

You entered the designated room on the second floor, wiped your palm on your shirt, and nervously opened the door. You see a little walk-in closet on the right side of the room with a curtain placed to divide the areas.  You see there are a couple of hangers and a table with some towels placed beside it. You took off your shirt and placed it on one of the hangers, you quickly took off your bra and put on the towel provided. Thirdly it was your pants until you heard the door open. 

“Good evening, Miss L/N, I’ll be your masseur for this session,” You froze as you peeped through the curtains to put a face to that alluring voice and you almost wished you had convinced your best friend a little more about switching. 

“Um Hi, I’ll be out in a minute,” You quickly responded as you disappeared behind the curtains again. 

“You can leave on your underwear if that would make you more comfortable,” Jaemin assured you as he went to set up the room. He started lighting some candles to set a relaxing mood. The whole room was filled with the soft scent of lavender and a hint of sweet orange that was rich in limonene. 

You folded your pants and kept on your panty as suggested by the masseur. You walked out of the room and set your eyes upon the gorgeous man in question. He was muscular-looking, even in the scrubs he wore. He looked up at you from his place on the floor when he was searching for the oil that happened to be at the bottom back part of the drawer.

“Well you requested a full body massage and I’ll try my best to fulfill your desired needs,” Jaemin softly grinned at you and motioned for you to take a seat on the massage table, you’ll remember to put salt in Seungkwan’s coffee on Monday. 

“Thank you,” You found it hard to really say anything, his stare was quite intimidating even though his smile gave you butterflies that just made your heart swell.

He turned his back to you so you took the opportunity to discard your towel and lay on the table. You laid on your back and placed the towel on top of you. Jaemin turned around with his oil in hand, smiling down at you.

“Well all you have to do for me is relax,” Jaemin said, the tone of his voice, giving you goosebumps.

“Okay,” You replied softly as you relaxed your body and closed your eyes, taking the aroma of the atmosphere and bringing your body to ease. 

Jaemin adjusted your towel to your mid-thigh, the tip of his fingers lightly brushing your skin, he then moved upwards and brought the top of your towel to the midsection of your breast. 

He began his work on your shoulders. He delicately kneaded the area, softly caressing all the knots you have in your neck, gently tracing under your jaw with his thumbs. It felt divine, no man had ever touched you with such thoughtfulness and you’re hoping he’s not the last.

Jaemin moved his hands slowly down your arms, gingerly squeezing the tight muscles as he steadily brought them back up, repeating the process as you felt sleep creeping up on you, Jaemin came back up to your cleavage.

“Would you mind if I removed the top of the towel?” Jaemin asked as he was still above you, looking up at him and seeing him upside down was a little odd but he still for some odd reason looked good.

“Is it mandatory for the massage?” You asked and that made Jaemin smile at you.

“Well, of course, I only deliver the best, and I may even give you a special massage,” Jaemin smiled down at you again, but the smile was different, his eyes seemed to be telling a whole other story, his hands brush the top of your chest, you mutter a quiet okay and closed your eyes once again, letting the cozy environment take over. 

“Good, it’s okay, I’ll take good care of you,” He said in such a deep tone, way different from the customer service one he used when he first greeted you, you wondered if it was because he was just comfortable as it’s his natural forte. 

He reached over you and moved the towel under your breast, now at the navel of your stomach, he placed it quite low but you didn’t mind. Jaemin released a slightly strained exhale as he pursed his lips and poured some of the oil into his brawny hands. His eyes fell on your nipples, customized in a barbell designed with a crystal, rhinestone, clear zircon, and a beautiful set of pink gems. 

He firmly positioned his hands at the side of your breast, gently caressing the fat. He cupped it and massaged under the flesh as he slowly brought his hand up and faintly grazed your nipple. You let out a surprised gasp not expecting to be so sensitive. Jaemin looked down at you, examining your face, and noticed your mouth was slightly ajar due to the sound you let out earlier. From this angle he had the perfect chance to just shove his twitching dick down your throat, he bet it’s warm like the way your body is heating up right now but he brushed it off and continued his work on your chest.

He squeezed the flesh and watched as you hurried to bite your bottom lip, Jaemin thought it was time he went to another part of your body. He made his way to your lower body, he noticed you had on your underwear.

“Would it be okay if I asked you to remove the towel completely? since you have on your undergarments,” Jaemin asked you as he clasped his hands behind his back, staring you down deeply with a sweet smile. You nodded your head, and you gazed down at yourself, seeing your nipples stand up tall and proud, you genuinely felt way more relaxed than when you first came here. 

“Wonderful, I enjoy giving pleasure to others who look like they haven’t had a good rest day,” Jaemin discarded the towel away from your body and placed it on the table beside him.

You smiled, you couldn’t conceal it, he was a sweet talker. You begin to shut your eyes and Jaemin starts to rub on your feet, you let out a soft groan, you are on your feet the majority of the time at work so this feels like heaven. He inches up your leg and starts kneading different areas, after some time he asks if you could turn over.

Jaemin has always been a man with excellent self-control but he guesses there’s a first for everything. You turned over on your stomach and Jaemin took that as a sign to take a breather, he looked down at himself and noticed his problem. At this point, he doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to hold it. He gripped himself and let out a soft sigh as he looked down at you, he furrowed his brows as he approached the table once again, contemplating if he should start with the top or lower half first.

Jaemin made up his mind as he poured some oil on your smooth back, you had laid your head on your forearm. Jaemin tenderly massaged your back, working out all sorts of sounds from you, because he’s just that good with his hands. 

He finished off with your back and moved to your legs, caressing your soft thighs, eyes settling on the slight jiggle of your plump ass. He looked up at you and delicately spread your legs apart a little as he moved his way to your inner thighs. He observes the way your pussy lips struggle to stay concealed in your baby blue panties, Jaemin bites down on his tongue and took a deep exhale, swallowing down thick as he sees some wetness forming on your underwear, Jaemin continues his task as he boldly inches closer to your prized possession. 

You started to squirm, feeling slightly bothered, needy even. You innocently lifted your hips off the table, trying to get some friction and squeeze your thighs together but Jaemin kept them open. 

“I thought I told you to relax, If you behave I can easily give you what you want,” Somehow you can hear Jaemin like he was right by your ears and he was, he stood beside you, roughly rubbing the fat muscle of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart and watching them jiggle back in their place. 

“Will you look at that,” Jaemin whispers as he takes the bottle of oils and pours some of it over your ass. Jaemin went back to the foot of the table and climbed between your legs.

“What are you doing, Jaemin?” You softly questioned Jaemin as you felt the cushion on the massage table dip under you. 

“I’m just trying to get a better position so I can give you an amazing happy ending, love” That tone, he used again but this time it was more sultry and lust-filled, you could almost see the smirk on his face, you have a feeling you know where this is headed and you’re all on board with playing along, note to self buy Seungkwan dinner after you put salt in his coffee. 

“Okay, I hope this all was worth the hassle,” You replied knowing damn well it was.

Jaemin bit his lips as he kneaded your ass, he used his knees to spread your legs apart more. He laid on his stomach, inched closer, rubbed his nose on the line of your panty, bit the fat of your ass, and grazed his thumb over your asshole. He dipped his head and licked the outside of your underwear, softly biting your inner thigh.

Your moans began to increase the more he teased you, as if he could read minds he turned you over, wanting to see your face. 

“Would you like me to continue?” Jaemin lips started to rise on one side, giving you a teasing smile.

You blushed at his bluntness, “Eat me out Jaemin,”.

Jaemin leaned forward and pulled you by the back of your neck into a rough and sloppy kiss, honestly the best you’ve had. He gently sucked on your tongue and pulled at your hard nipple. 

“So fucking sexy,” Jaemin said as he gave you a once over before spreading your legs and giving them for you to hold, he run his hands on the back of your thigh as he examines every inch of you spread out in front of him. 

He hooked a finger under your panties and pulled them to the side. You let out a quiet moan as the cold air hit your wet pussy. He pushed your legs back even more so you hooked them behind your head.

“Look at this pretty pussy, so fucking wet,” Jaemin ran his finger around your lips and brought his finger to his mouth, humming about how sweet you tasted. He dipped his head and took a long swipe with his thick tongue.

“Oh fuck,” You let out a relief sign after finally getting some attention, you looked down at Jaemin sucking on your swollen clit that was painfully neglected in months. His head bobbed up and down as he took slow and sensual slurps, making your toes curl and breath hitch.

You started to rock your hip but Jaemin placed his heavy hands on your ass to hold you down, he dipped his head lower and poked his tongue on your asshole, fighting his way in. 

“Maybe I’ll have to prep you another time,” Jaemin smirks as makes his way to your gaping hole, sticking his long tongue, and forcing a strained moan out of you. He looked up at you, feeling himself grow even harder if that’s possible, absolutely falling in love with the way he has you a putty just from his tongue, the way you just look so sexy to him like this, pussy all red and angry, juices dripping from his chin, the way you bite your lips to conceal your sexy whimpers. 

He groped your breast and brought his attention back to your clit, switching between licking and sucking, completely abusing it. You reached your hand to his head to keep him in position.

“Oh don’t fuckin stop- oh my fucking– shit Jaemin..” You laid your head to the side, one eye clenching as your toe curled for dare life. Jaemin bore his face deeper into your soaking pussy, placing his tongue back inside as his nose rubbed your clit, sending you into cloud nine. He removed his face and quickly replaced it with his skilled hand, he placed his fingers on your clit and started swiping vigorously. 

You felt your stomach suck in as you started twitching, you felt like a bucket of water was thrown over you and you woke up from a dream you’d do anything to get back to. 

“Yes, look at that, wanna give me more,” Jaemin watched as you completely drenched his arm when you squirted, something you didn’t know you could do until today. He sucked up every last drop causing you overstimulation. 

You removed your legs and grabbed his face, bringing him into a passionate kiss. He placed his forehead on yours smiling embarrassingly.

“You definitely have to be my soulmate if you were able to make me come in my pants without touching me,” Jaemin said with a light chuckle. 

“I can do that, If you take me out on a date?, we can split the bill since I suggested,” You looked Jaemin deep into his eyes and he blushed slightly.

“I like that idea, but I’ll pay for the bill,” He kissed your lips before getting up from the table.

You both cleaned up and of course exchanged contacts, and it was history from there. 

Thank you Seungkwan.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Overtime 7

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss, Mr. Hansen, runs you ragged but you find solace in an unexpected friend.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Jake Jensen.

Author’s Note: This one is dedicated to my dearest @thezombieprostitute

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

“Not so fast, critter,” Hansen drops a keycard on your desk as you hike up your bag. “I need you to go down to the East location and grab a package. Fuckwads delivered it to the wrong office.” 

“Sir?” You glance at the time. It’s almost seven. You’re already well past your usual sentence. “I can get it in the morning. They probably already locked up--” 

“They’re waiting for you,” he interjects. “Was just on the phone with them. This can’t wait. You go get it and bring it to me.”

“Um, okay, sir,” you swipe up the card and turn it over. “Back here?” 

“My house. I got shit to do. I do have a life,” he scoffs. “Melora wants to have a sit-down and if it keeps her off my back, I’ll flex and give her something to chill the fuck out.” 

“Yes, sir, I’ll get it--” 

“Christ, critter, don’t sound so fucking enthusiastic,” he chortles.  

“Yes, sir.” 

You sidle away from the desk and step around. For a moment, you think he might stop you as he hovers on the other side. You wish he’d just leave you alone. He already ruined your dress and your day. 

“I won’t be long, sir,” you promise over your shoulder. 

You trod out heavily and wait by the elevators. The building is desolate as most people left at five. You’re used to be a straggler. Even when Mr. Hansen leaves early, you’re kept behind. 

As you step through the doors, someone calls out for you to hold them. You put your hand out to trigger the censor and Jensen sprints through. He gulps in a breath and turns around, nearly colliding with the wall. 

“Hey, thanks,” he huffs. “Oh, hey.” 

“Hi,” you stare ahead and hit the lobby button. 

It’s quiet as the elevator shifts into motion. You sway and keep your eyes locked on the doors. You cross your arms and squeeze the strap of your purse. 

“Uh, what happened to your dress?” He asks. 

“Accident...” you shrug. 

“Oh, wow, must’ve been a big one.” 

“It’s fine,” you insists. 

He’s silent again. His breath gusts out and he sucks it in, opening his mouth to say something then thinking better of it. As the doors ding and open, he doesn’t move. 

“Well, have a good night,” you say. 

As you step off, he follows you, “wait, wait,” he calls, “um, so, I was chatting with someone in logistics. They have an opening. Looking to fill it internally. I hope you don’t mind I mentioned you.” 

“You...” you scuff to a halt and face him. “Why?” 

“I just figured maybe it would be good to move into something new. Away from that jackass.” 

You frown, embarrassed. It’s not like you never tried to get something else. You’ve been to interviews and never heard back.  

“Um, thanks, that’s nice of you to think of me.” 

“Yeah, no problem. I hope it goes well. You should get an email. They seemed very interested to have you,” he explains. 

“Right,” you agree, “thanks again but I... gotta go.” 

“Oh, sure, sure,” he gives a crooked grin. “See ya tomorrow?” 

You nod and turn away. You stop again and spin around. He nearly walks right into you. You clear your throat. 

“Jensen, I think maybe you should avoid coming around Mr. Hansen’s office,” you say. “He doesn’t like.” 

“He doesn’t seem to like anyone. Not even you.” 

“I know, but...” 

“Yeah, I know. It’s not helping you. Well, maybe I’ll see you in the courtyard at lunch.” 

“Maybe,” you echo. “Good night.” 

You flit away as you’re reminded of the keycard still clutched in your left hand. You have shit to do. Oh gosh, is that Hansen’s voice in your head? 

The only bright side is that it’s no longer raining. Your care chuffs before it starts and you give a long, dreadful look to the hood. Don’t give out now. 

You head off, away from your apartment, and grip the wheel as you hunch forward. You try not to lean to heavy on the gas but you just want to go home. The traffic is less than the rush hour clog but it’s still tediously slow. 

You finally get to the East offices and use the card to swipe into the building. The lack of instructions has you searching around the empty lobby. A security officer approaches. 

“Can I help you?” He asks gruffly. 

“Sure, uh, I was sent my Mr. Hansen at central--” 

“Mm, this way.” 

You follow the uniformed man to a back office and he hands you a flash drive. A flash drive. It could literally be an email. You hide your urge to scream behind a smile and leave. 

Now to drive all the way to Mr. Hansen’s house. You’ve been there once or twice but only in passing. It’s all the way at the other end of the city and beyond your building. You need to top up your tank. Your exasperation mounts the long you sit in the driver’s seat and you idle at a red sign and think. 

Another job wouldn’t be so bad. You don’t want to get your hopes up but you don’t know how much longer you can take this. Something’s got to give and Jensen talked you up. Maybe this one will work out. You’ll take anything at this point. 

You finally pull up to Mr. Hansen’s house and follow the long drive to his reclusive home. His perfectly landscaped lawn and gleaming facade irks you. You don’t know why but in contrast to your cramped apartment, it’s a mansion. 

You get out and march up the walk with the flash drive in hand. You stop at the door and fix your skirt, making sure you don’t have any more incidents. You press the doorbell and try to ignore the lens. Mr. Hansen’s voice comes from the speaker. 

“Get in here.” 

You sigh and let yourself in. You stop on the mat and look around the interior. It’s just as nice as the outside. 

“I’m gonna leave it here, Mr. Hansen,” you call through as you hover your hand over the key tray. 

“Critter, get in here,” he demands. 

You repress another frustrated exhale. You grip the drive and step out of your flats. You pad towards his voice and peer into the front room. You swallow a squeak as you find him shirtless and cradling his face. There’s a split in his brow and his eyes is turning purple. What the heck? 

“You wanna get me some ice,” he winces and hisses as he pulls his hand away. “Shit, she’s still got a hell of a right hook.” 

“Sir?” You blink at him. 

“Hurry up, critter,” he snaps and stands, staggering just a little. He goes to the mirror mounted above the artificial fireplace and checks his reflection.  

You look around and scurry through the next door. You find your way to the sleek kitchen and search the matte black fridge. You find an ice pack and a dish cloth and return to the front room. 

Hansen lays on the couch and waves you over. You approach and hold out the ice. He grabs your wrist and yanks you close. You’re force to sit on the edge of the sofa as he brings the pack to his face. You adjust it behind the cloth and he whimpers. 

“Ahhhh, critter, much better,” he keeps a hold of you. 

[aihoshiino]

chapter 144 thoughts!

I don't think any other chapter of Oshi no Ko has ever baffled and confounded me quite like this one. Viewed solely in isolation this is a perfectly fine, functional chapter but as the followup to 143 and everything it contained, I actually feel like I'm losing my mind a bit. 143 might as well not have happened for all the weight it's given in this chapter. Ruby is not remotely acting like a girl who just tongued her crush of 18 years and in general, the total absence of any reference or cushioning of the shock of that event is just so loud and so jarring and so completely out of touch with how OnK has handled romantic developments in the past.

Both AquAka kisses had at least a scene or two in the chapter immediately following of characters reacting to and reflecting on both the event itself and the status quo change it represents in the relationship. Even 124 has that scene of Ruby clinging onto Aqua to let the viewer know what the new dynamic between them is going to be from now on. This chapter has nothing of the sort; I wasn't kidding when it says it feels like the kiss never even happened. The only thing I can point to is Ruby's little "we have sensei at home" exchange with Tsukuyomi but that's… kind of just exactly what she would've said even before the kiss. So if it has resulted in absolutely no change to their dynamic that we can see thus far, what was the point in ending the chapter on that note?

The part of me that is cynical and jaded can't help but suspect that this is intentionally hot button reaction bait paced specifically for the purposes of keeping OnK a trendy topic in the lead up to season 2 of the anime airing, But Who's To Say, Really.

I also had my worries about this last chapter, but unless we skip back in time to address it, it really looks like we've skipped over the remainder of the KamiAi romance and everything to do with the early stages of Ai's pregnancy. This is incredibly frustrating to me - they're parts of Ai's story I had been incredibly curious about and was excited to see her thoughts and feelings on, even filtered through fiction. In general, the way the Movie Arc has been increasingly dropping its focus on actually conveying Ai's story has been a real sore point for me. I fully acknowledge this rankles me more than perhaps it should because I am so deeply invested in Ai above any other character but… fuck, man! Once again, remember when this was supposed to be an arc about her? About her inner life, her pain and struggles and Aqua and Ruby working to a better understanding of her? I was excited for the Movie Arc specifically because I thought we were going to get peeks at parts of Ai's life we weren't privy to beforehand, but at this point it almost feels like Akasaka has just lost interest in following through.

Not only that but… uh, where's that KamiAi breakup scene, Akasaka? The one we were promised during the script reading? That huge I CAN'T LOVE YOU elephant that's been patiently sitting in the room? I can only assume that the 15YL version of this breakup happens after the twins are born or maybe even when Kamiki visited Ai at the hospital the night the kids were born but. What the fuck is even going on here anymore lol. The Oshi no Brainrot discord has been kicking around a joke theory that we were seeing the events of the Movie Arc out of their actual chronological order and it is becoming increasingly less of a joke in my brain because I can't make any sense of its progression otherwise.

oh my god i'm almost 1000 words in and i haven't started talking about the actual point of this chapter yet. god help me.

Anyway, MY SON IS HERE LET'S GO MELT!!!!!!

Ngl, I've always been a little disappointed that we didn't see much more of Melt in this arc, both just because I like him and because I think there's some really interesting potential in drawing on the parallels between Melt and Kamiki. I'm not the first to point out that Melt's experience with a dubiously consensual sexual encounter at the hands of an upperclassman - when he wasn't that much older than Hikaru was when Airi began abusing him - echoes at least in spirit Kamiki's experiences as a CSA victim; both were young boys, noted to be pretty and desirable, who were taken advantage of by older female figures. I think it would be extremely interesting and a great character moment for Melt to have some degree of engagement with that material and maybe to have some thoughts about it. It feels like a little bit of a missed opportunity to pass up on that, but I also acknowledge that Melt is ultimately not a huge mover and shaker in the overall story and I don't know how that would've fit into the Movie Arc as it stands, so I'll just have to make eyes at the AO3 tag and hope someone writes a fic about it.

Anyway as a lot of people predicted… here's Ruby being a jackass to Melt about his performance!!! Joking aside, I will admit it's a little jarring to see Ruby being so hostile to Melt over this…? Gorou is a sore spot for her, obviously and she would undoubtedly have high standards for his role in the movie. In addition, Ruby being snitty with people who rub her the wrong way definitely isn't new for her, but it still feels kind of odd both coming off her own struggles to connect with Ai through acting and her little "holy shit other people have feelings" breakthrough in the wake of the RBKN fight for her to be like this about it. I do think this is mostly just supposed to be just goofs and I'm overthinking it, it was just one of those things that kind of gave me pause as I was reading.

ruby's little little princess shirt is really good though, as is her referring to herself as a fan of the 'original work'. both of those got a solid sensible chuckle out of me.

Another thing that gave me pause for a very different reason was Melt and Ruby's exchange about his little merch pin. First and foremost, I think this is a really good Melt moment; while we saw him busting his ass to improve his acting in Tokyo Blade, that was very much when he had something to prove. Here, he really does seem to be going above and beyond for what is basically a bit part purely out of a desire to improve his craft and a passion for acting overall. It's nice to see the story double down in this being a lesson he did properly take away from Sweet Today and that he has committed to acting upon it (no pun intended) in the long term, not just when under outside pressure to do so.

The other thing that jumped out to me about this exchange is that… technically speaking, both Ruby and Melt are wrong, here? It's a very nice, flowery description of Gorou and it certainly lines up with his more positive traits but the idea of him not wearing his Ai merch in front of Ai herself is actually incorrect. Gorou is depicted (in the anime, anyway) as openly wearing the charm at what's implied to be all times, even in front of Ai herself. The manga also implies by way of where the charm is on his person when Ruby finds his body that this is also the case in that version of events, too. I don't think it's a retcon and may be an unimportant detail in the grand scheme of things but it did pique my interest.

There's a few ways to take this, I think; a more positive spin is that this is in line with what the story wants us to take away from 15 Year Lie as a production, where the literal granular facts of its events are sometimes less important than and can be bent in favour of supporting the emotional narrative it wants to convey. Melt may not literally be correct here, but he at least achieves the spirit of the right answer in his efforts. "Lies are love", after all.

However, given that Ruby enthusiastically endorses this interpretation - and is thus wrong alongside Melt - this could potentially be an indication of there being cracks in Ruby's rose-tinted view of Gorou. This strikes me as a fascinating idea and one I hope the series plays with; it would follow quite naturally from last chapter's framing of Gorou as Ruby's 'idol' that she's 'gachikoi' for. Oshi no Ko has pretty consistently portrayed the idol/fan relationship as inherently unequal, even when approached with the best of intentions and to truly know someone, you must let them off their pedestal first. She has sort of begun this process with Ai, just through empathizing with her during the 15YL production but we have yet to see anything similar happen with Gorou - if anything, we see the opposite here, where she asserts herself as the authority on Gorou's character as if she has the final say on who he was and what he felt and thought.

But the thing is, how well can Ruby really say that she knew him? They were only in each others' lives for a few months and in that time, she was only exposed to a very narrow slice of his life and his personality. Hell, you could even argue that Akane knows more about Gorou than Ruby does, given that we have no indication that Ruby or Sarina was ever privy to the details of his birth and his home life. Again, it's entirely possible that I'm reading too much into this, but now the idea is in my brain I'm simmering on it a bit. If nothing else, I hope the series takes the time to prod and poke at this angle, especially now it has made the fan/idol aspect of this dynamic explicit and textual.

Ruby and Melt's little senpai/kouhai dynamic has the potential to be really cute and I do hope the series actually spends some time on it. I've always thought a RBML friendship could be really fun to watch play out and seeing Melt gain some confidence in himself by teaching someone else could be really great. But with how unfocused the Movie Arc has been, it's really hard to get my hopes up that we'll be sticking with this even past this chapter lol

oh hey there crow girl we thought you were dead

Surprisingly, I don't have a lot to really say about her little lore drop here, since it's mostly mystery boxing and implications and, man. It's been 69 (nice) chapters since she first started showing up ominously muttering about supernatural things and while I don't mind her presence and I think she's evolved into a fun character, it's a little hard for me to get interested in these little supernatural tidbits until they resolve into something that feels meaningful for the characters.

This isn't helped by the fact that we don't really know what kami means in the context she uses it here. While 'god' and 'gods' are not strictly incorrect as translations, I think an English speaking viewer is primed to think of Abrahamic, capital G-Gods, which isn't necessarily correct. The term kami is a catchall that covers all manner of things from divinities to venerated earthbound humans, so kami can perhaps best be understood as being an umbrella term for something like 'an otherworldly being', which I think better lines up with Tsukuyomi's assertion that those who have memories of past lives are like kami in of themselves.

Ultimately though until we know what kami really means and amounts to in Oshi no Ko, it's hard to say what this means for the characters and I am ultimately only really interested in the characters. So until we know what this actually amounts to in-story, I'm just kind of nodding long with whatever Crow Girl says because sure. This might as well happen.

can we talk about how fucking funny her anime antagonist jump out of the tree was, by the way

break next week, or so i've heard... one of these days, we'll beat the allegations....

[buckgasms]

So I’ve been craving your content lately! So I was thinking princess and Bucky where princess is very sensitive, like she cries over the littlest things, is always scared to break a rule, she’s basically walking on egg shells trying to make sure she does everything right. I love your work!🎀

Omg bestiiiiiiiie!! This is princess to a T!!!

Most of the time she is ok because her Daddy takes it upon himself to make her feel happy and safe and perfect, but obviously some days it can't be like that.

Like imagine Daddy has had a really busy week so even though he has still been taking care of his best girl, he's just too tired to keep his eyes open after sex and he gets up mega early the next morning without giving you as many kisses as usual.

So you lay in bed for a little while after leaves and even though you shouldn't you can't help but cry at the thought of him being mad at you.

And maybe he didn't leave his usual note of to do lists, so you cry again because even though you know he loves you and he's very busy..... It's just very upsetting.

You try and pull yourself together. What is normally on the list? Shower, tidy up, eat... Um... Pick an outfit.... Your mind goes blank. No idea what to do with yourself.

Maybe you should call him? You held your phone in your hand, staring at the picture of him on your lock screen. Your eyes welled up again because what if he was disappointed with you? What if you disturbed him and he got cross? You'd have to make do by yourself.

Tears tracked down your cheeks as you pulled on a pretty dress and it made you feel a bit better. You realised it's taken you over an hour to have this meltdown so you traipse out of the bedroom and try to find some food. You try toast to settle your nerves, but you burn the bread and set off the alarm.

It's all just too much, so you run into the bedroom and climb into Bucky's big wardrobe in the hope that you can just disappear.

🌸

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky has an alert that goes off if anything goes wrong with the apartment, so of course he sends a message to someone to check out the fire alarm, figuring it's nothing important, maybe you just burnt the toast again?

After 10 minutes he gets a call. The smoke alarm is off, but.... You aren't there. Bucky's stomach drops and he rushes up from his seat and heads down in the lift. The security guard says you haven't left, but the worry in his mind sends his imagination reeling.

He storms through each room in a panic, calling for you. Finally he heads into the bedroom and sees the sliding wardrobe door slightly open, a little bit of pink fabric sticking out.

Relief washes over him as he kneels down and slides the door open a little wider. His heart melts as he sees you curled up on the floor, wrapped in one of his jackets, your eyes puffy and face sore from rubbing your tears.

"Babygirl, what's wrong?" He coos leaning in a little and offering you his hand. Your eyes go wide, then fill with tears again as your sobs wrack your body.

"No... No I didn't want to bother you.... I'm sorry Daddy....please don't be mad..." You retreated to the back of the wardrobe and pulled his jacket tighter around you.

"What are you talking about Princess?" He asks softly, shuffling closer to you but still giving you plenty of space. Every instinct in his body screaming out to take you in his arms, but knowing you probably need some space for the moment.

"I was bad wasn't I? Made you cross? I didn't have my list... Tried to be good but then the alarm went off...." You descended into more tears and he couldn't help but smile at how fucking sweet and soft you were.

"Oh princess..." He scooches in a little closer and you can't help but crave his touch, even if you think he might be mad. He just smells so good, and feels so good. You lean against him and he wraps his arms around you, soft hand gently stroking your hair as you cry.

"Babygirl, I'm not mad at you at all... I'm so sorry I made you think that. I've always got time for my Princess..." He rubs circles in your arms and presses a kiss to your temple.

"m'sorry Daddy. I just got worried I made you mad and then I didn't know what to do. Then the alarm went off and it was so loud and I thought I'd be in more trouble...."

He pulls you into his lap and kisses your forehead before kissing down your cheeks, then to your pretty lips. "The only person who's been bad here sweetheart is me..." You pull away and look at him with wide eyes.

"You've been bad?" You whisper, biting your finger as he nods solemnly. "I didn't take care of my best girl, and now she's upset and worried. I figure that's pretty terrible don't you?"

You let out a giggle as he pinches your chin and pulls you in for a soft kiss. "Let's get out of this wardrobe and we can discuss my punishment hey baby?"