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#it wasn't a drag on your part it was just you realizing the truth about the matter
margridarnauds · 2 years
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i think you seem very intelligent and i enjoy reading your posts about celtic studies. that field strikes me as uniquely thankless (which i hope doesn't sound like a huge drag, it just seems both overwhelming and underappreciated) so your commitment to it is to be admired!
I got this about a month ago and I kept putting off responding to it because I honestly spent a good few minutes flailing when I got it. Thank you, Anon, and I hope that you're able to see I got it even after a month.
When I first got it, I wanted to say something about how we tend to focus on the negatives, how my second year of my PhD is much better than the first, that things have improved so much and that, really, it isn't that bad....then things tanked pretty much overnight and I'm at a level of disillusionment that I don't think I've ever been in. I'm not sure if I have a place in the field and, to be frank, I'm not sure if I want one even if there is. I'm tired of the backstabbing, I'm tired of the passive aggression, I'm tired of knowing so much dirt on so many people in the field and not being able to say anything, I'm tired of seeing burnout and being overworked treated as the norm because, after all, they're just preparing us for the world of academia. We don't get weekends. Our third years in particular are ridiculously overworked (next year for me: yay.) My work doesn't get respect in my own department, I don't get respect in my own department, I'm mainly convenient as a pet or a mascot more than a colleague and the second I try to act like a colleague, I'm smacked down. I feel more at ease in conferences that take place thousands of miles away than in my own home department, how is that right? I've had senior scholars who are known to be cantankerous and abrasive be kinder to me and my work than people who only entered the program a couple of years before me. Why? Now, I don't have any family who entered academia, unlike a number of academics, but my impression was that the ones who should have a student's back the most are their own department. Why have I had to rely on my friends in other departments to be my emotional support instead of the people who know, better than anyone, what it's like to be in this program? And even abroad, I see senior scholars kicking down grad students on Twitter, I see entire schools of thought in the field being used as cheap punching bags, I see so much casual homophobia, transphobia, and sexism that's politely disguised (because the problem's always been in being openly bigoted, so you make your bigotry polite and scholarly and you're grand), I see some departments waging harassment campaigns against other departments for...what? Why? What did they do? And I wonder "how did we get to this point?" Were we so focused on creating great scholars that we forgot to create great colleagues? Or even just good people?" Yeah, they learn multiple languages, both medieval and modern, but can they talk to the people around them without tearing them down? Does something just die when you stay in the field long enough? I'm not sure that it's possible to stay and be a good person -- I think a lot of people either become numb and decide that it's normal or stay with the idea that they can change it, but can we really change it? At the moment, I'm just a ball of quiet, impotent rage; I refuse to do to a grad student what was done to me -- I refuse. And I don't know whether just being nice is enough when so many of these problems are part of the wider structural problems with academia -- by staying on, even if you just want to support the grad students and the undergrads, are you just playing into the system more?
And I'm just. Supposed to smile and accept it. Support my department in public for the sake of PR, even though we all know it's a joke.
And the sad thing is I know it can be better. I had that. I'm not saying it was always perfect or there were never times where I was depressed or sad -- it was tough to be an international student for the first time, especially during the early stages of the pandemic -- but I'm saying that I know what it was like to have a genuinely supportive atmosphere, enough so that I mistakenly thought it was the norm. I don't know what happened here, but there is some deep rot in this department that got there before I did, and it's a microcosm of the rot that exists in the field. And there are good people here, there are people who want to make the department a better place, but that's useless when that rot is so accepted and so normalized. It's more a case of trauma bonding than anything at this point. And I'm trying, as best as I can, to protect the ones who are coming after me even though I know that the cycle never really ends. I know of so many young Celtic Studies grad students who have actively told me that they're not looking to stay around -- grab the PhD and run. At first, I thought that they weren't prioritizing their careers properly, that relationships and love fade away but a career, tenure will be there for you, the work we do is important and will last for decades after we're gone if we do it right -- I was going to be the exception, I was going to be the ambitious one, I was going to be the Girlboss Academic who was going to kick ass and take names because I was just that smart and that badass...now I realize, at 25, what I didn't realize what I was 20, and that's that it's all castles in the air. If you have the chance for love, the chance for family, and you're forced to choose between this and that...why wouldn't you choose them?
And now I'm just here wondering whether I ever really want to so much as write another word in a Celtic Studies article again, or whether I want to go back on campus. I was actually grateful on Friday that I had Latin class because that was on a different place on campus -- I didn't have to go back to our headquarters or interact with anyone. I don't want them to have my work, I don't want them to see it, I don't want my name to be associated with my department's if and when I publish it because it isn't theirs and, when it gets done, it's going to be done without them. I will actively look out for conferences where people in my department are least likely to submit to (because I want to believe that there'll come a time when I want to write papers again), just so they don't get to see my work because, as far as I'm concerned, they've lost the right to it. For years, the one thing that kept me on, more than anything else, was my unending love of my material and my love of the field. They managed to numb me to that. Like, when I think of my favorite texts at the moment, there's just this...numbness. With a twinge of just...despair. But not that....happiness that there should be. I'm working on Middle Welsh translation work so I don't look at Old Irish -- it's still more Celtic than I'd like, but I can't risk nuking my entire week just because I'm pissed and hurt. (A part of me's still tempted to come down with a cold on Monday -- I've never skipped a day in my entire college career, but desperate times, desperate measures.)
And, frankly, I know there's a medium possibility that at least some of them will see this, because I'm not allowed the luxury of anonymity, and I don't particularly care because, frankly, what are they going to do? Chew me out in front of the whole department? Say I'm not being scholarly or collegial? Oh, wait, that's already happened. (Maybe if they do see this, they'll go through my source list for the Mythological Cycle and realize I do, every once in a while, know what I'm talking about with regards to my own specialty, shockingly enough.) Kick me out, thus threatening me with a good time? All that happens is I go from one lifelong abusive situation to another one, albeit without getting paid to endure it, but at least I get my dogs. And they need me, still. They need the cheap teaching fodder in a couple years' time, just like they need someone to run conferences for them. So, they might not want me there and I might not want me there, but if I have to deal with them, they have to deal with me as well.
All I can say is that if I was really as weak as they think I was (or if I'd just had the money to say 'no'), I'd have left within my first month here and I wouldn't have been wrong to do so. That and that I'm always very grateful for the support I see online, especially from people who also get...this....everything. It makes me feel marginally less alone about the whole thing. Just hearing that I'm competent makes all the difference in the world -- This message meant more than you realized.
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adonis-koo · 5 months
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sweet nothing • 9
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| in which he patiently waits one day at a time|
↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.
His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.
Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader
↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!
Word count: 2.9k
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Note: no matter how many scenes i write, they're all sad and i'm kinda sorry bc i said this fic wasn't going to have much plot but it somehow has a lot of plot now??? and its kinda sad??? HERE YOU GUYS GO THO
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The commotion going on in the estate wasn’t difficult to tell, men had been actively walking more than their usual rotations required and Jungkook knew this was a sign you were causing some sort of chaos as you seemed to do every day now. 
And upon following the trail it led him just a door down from your own room, items being moved and you were currently pouting as you sighed. 
“Do tell me what your idea is for this little renovation project.” Jungkook hummed, leaning against the door, not actually annoyed at how much you always move things around in his estate in fact…Dare he say he felt a little endeared. 
And Jungkook found himself falling into old habits, habit he found himself missing, such as being able to take the time to admire you, all thoughts of work fading from his head at the sight of your dress, just past your knees and a faded checker blue, flowing sleeves that went to your elbows for room and of course the ever growing bump. 
Your hands were set around it seemingly pouting over something before his words drew you out of your thoughts, “Jungkook, I didn’t realize you were home so early.” 
“I have a meeting I have to attend in person later,” Jungkook replied, “You didn’t answer my question.” 
There it was again, that small pout he hadn’t realized he missed so much until it dawned your lips once more, “Well…” You seemed a bit hesitant before you spoke, “I gave it some thought- what we talked about a few days ago, about a nursery and I figured you were right. It’s better we be prepared for it then not.” 
Jungkook was relieved to hear this because while he was trying his hardest to get something on Wonho, there was a smaller, more selfish part of him that enjoyed this, enjoying having you at his estate.
An even smaller part of him not wanting it to end so soon, he had to let go of you once and no it wasn’t fair, but even there was even the slightest chance…well, he didn’t want to let it slip through his fingers and have to let you go once again. 
Jungkook only nodded, “So what's with the look then?” 
“Well,” You gave him a sheepish smile, “I had all of this stuff moved out and realized I have nothing to actually put in here…” 
Jungkook couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him as he pushed off the frame stepping into the room, “Hm, that’s a strange way to ask for money.”
“Jungkook I wasn’t-”
“I’m teasing relax,” Jungkook cut you off, your lips tugging even poutier, you had always been like this, since day one in fact, always worried he’d think you were using him for money, always trying to deter him from paying even if you didn’t have the means to actually afford it yourself. 
It was sweet, “But you’re also in no position to not accept it and I have more than enough money to afford it- it’s a win win.” 
You stared at his outstretched hand, black shiny amex in his hand, “I don’t feel right just using it.” 
Jungkook sighed wistfully, “You didn’t seem to feel too guilty helping your brother with rates and statistics for drug sales.” 
Your lips parted somewhat in surprise, “That was different…!” 
“You’re right,” There it was that stupid teasing, charming smile of his, “It was probably worse.” 
You knew he was only teasing, but something about it made you feel gross still, you had a reason you were in that room, a reason that is long gone from you now, “Well it doesn’t matter anymore does it?” 
Jungkook paused at the sight of your expression dimming as you continued looking out the open window as your hand absently rubbed your bump, “I haven’t done that for a long time now…”
“Y/n I didn’t mean-”
“I know,” You cut him off softly looking back at him and there was an unmistakable look of regret in his eyes, not wanting to cross any lines with you but you were afraid they already had, “I just…I guess I just have some regrets about getting involved….I never wanted to hurt anyone,” You whispered out, “I had a reason I was there and it had nothing to do with the money...For myself at least.” 
Jungkook frowned, there were still so many things he didn’t know about you, your time together having been cut short when you both had first met, “What other reason could there be?” 
It was an indirect question, rather than a rhetorical one, you knew what he was asking. 
You hesitated, but then again, you supposed it didn’t matter now, it was all in the past, no matter how dull it made your heart ache. 
“Well…” You let out a soft sigh, “I’m sure you remember I wasn’t exactly financially stable, and for me that was fine. It was enough,” You nodded to yourself in thought, “It wasn’t much, but it was enough.”
“Until…?” 
“I received a phone call,” You mumbled, recalling the event, “A foster agency, telling me that they did a DNA test on one of their cases and it came out as a match on me and my brother. Just a week old, dropped off right outside the police station.” 
You had to bite down on your tongue, you had thought you were over it, but it still stung just as raw, “Since we were her only blood family I was given the opportunity to adopt her…” You let out a sigh trying to keep it together, “Except I was too poor, I didn’t even come close to having a qualifying salary to show that I could be responsible for her and take care of her…”
“What about Wonho?” Jungkook cocked his head to the side, baffled at this information. 
You let out a loud scoff, bitterness that you had tried so hard to let go of coming back up as you shook your head, “Wonho didn’t give a shit, told me that it wasn’t our problem but I struck a deal with him, if I helped him up until his annual evaluation with you for his first year of work, he’d help me get the expenses that were required to foster her.” 
Jungkook’s brows furrowed as he shook his head, “And?” 
There it was, that little niggle in your head that was angry about it all, angry at Wonho, angry at yourself, especially at Jungkook, “Well all of it fell apart. Very quickly, one thing after the other. I mean obviously you dropped off the face of the planet for months so Wonho wasn’t making money- I got let go of my job because of the murder- everything went void.” 
Jungkook looked away with a long inhale as if he had been mentally prepared for the moment you’d finally cave and say it, but it wasn’t as if you were wrong, you were simply stating a fact, he completely ghosted you and civilization as everyone knew it and just like that, he had left your life as quick as he entered. 
It was difficult to not be angry about it when he was the one that convinced you that the very thing you were afraid of wouldn’t happen, just for a few short months later, let it happen. And you were sure he had his reasons, you were certain of it, but it didn’t change the fact that he left you with little to no explanation and just like that, never bothered to come back, didn’t even so much as send a letter, a proper apology, nothing. 
“I’ve…” Jungkook’s eyes squinted on the ground, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, about what happened.” 
You shook your head, “Jungkook, it’s been two years,” Your voice softened, his eyes glancing up to meet yours and once again you felt the dull ache that never went away, “I shouldn’t of brought it up, I’m sorry…it’s in the past now, life went on.” 
“Well it didn’t for me.” Jungkook let out a small breath and you could hear a hint of bitterness in his voice. 
Your lips quivered a little, “Do you have any right to say that?” 
“Probably not,” When did he get this close to you, “But it doesn’t change how I feel.” 
Old feelings were like a dam bursting inside you and you began to shake your head, “I’m not ready to talk about this Jungkook- can’t we just keep pretending like nothing happened?”
Jungkook shook his head, “We’ve both tried this and neither of us are good at it Y/n, I can’t, not when I have a second chance.”
You raised your brows, “No! No this is…” You took an immediate step back, “This is not what this is Jungkook, what happened is over. I’m only staying here because Wonho has a target on his back and you were kind enough to keep me out of the crossfire.” 
“Maybe that’s how it started out,” Jungkook replied just as quick, taking another step closer to you, “Look…I know it’s not fair,” He frowned, as if he hated saying it, “I had every intention to stay out of your life, it wasn’t fair to drag you along back then and that’s why I didn’t, but…You’re here now, right in front of me. So yes…I do see it as a second chance, and if there’s any way I can make it right, I will.” 
You groaned, “It’s not just making it right anymore!” You wanted to scream! “I have baggage now Jungkook!” Your eyes threatened to water as your hands dropped from your stomach, “A lot of it. It’s not just me anymore I’m getting ready to have a baby, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“I know exactly what I’m asking for.” Jungkook sharply replied, eyes brewing with anger, “And what I’m asking for is you, all of you.”
“You had your chance and you left me, plain and simple, you left. I don’t understand why now…Out of all the time, two years later, now…!?” You hadn’t meant to raise your voice, but you were angry, perplexed, scared. 
Scared just the way you were when he was upfront the first time in that stupid bakery you wanted nothing more then to pretend like didn’t happen, you wanted to pretend like you never got drunk at that stupid bar, that he wasn’t late that day, that he didn’t sat down and offer to pay for your meal for making you wait. 
You wanted to pretend like he had actually listened for once when you declined him asking you out, that he didn’t visit you every morning at work, and more then anything you wanted to pretend like you had a stronger will, that you didn’t let him convince, your mind was flooding with so many memories of him. 
His hand trailing down your thigh while drunk in the back of his car, his eyes when he saw the bust in your lip, his smile when your fingers intertwined with his, his skin etched into yours for the first time, ushered sweet nothings that he’d love you forever. 
But at the time you didn’t realize that forever would only be a short three months then just like that, it was over, and oftentimes you were left many sleepless nights wondering, was it even love? Everything had happened so fast, it felt like forever. 
But two years later, standing in front of him you realized it had been two agonizingly long years since you saw him in person. 
“I made a choice,” Jungkook defended himself, “I stuck to that choice…I was leaving you alone, even if I didn’t want to and then…” He ran a hand through his hair, revealing his face in full detail his eyes baffled as if trying to understand himself, “Suddenly one night you’re dropped in the middle of my office. I didn’t have any pretenses, I was just being nice letting you stay here, I had fond memories of our time together, I didn’t want to let you get caught in the crossfire- it was the least I could do after everything.” 
You crossed your arms as he continued, “And then…I don’t know,” He muttered, “I look at you, I see your smile, I see you standing here pouting and trying to do it all yourself, like you always tried to do. And suddenly it’s two years ago and we’re both drunk sitting at the bar talking about what it would be like to be in love. And I feel the exact same way I did back then, looking at you and wondering if maybe I had finally found it.” 
You felt physically sick, it was like he was intentionally wanting to break your heart all over again, “You sent them to raid my home, you can’t tell me this wasn’t planned…”
“I didn’t expect them to fuckin’ kidnap you Y/n!” Jungkook let out a hurt laugh, running his hand through his hair, “In fact I gave them direct instruction to do the shakedown while you were at work and to not destroy your apartment- you were supposed to be at work!” 
“Well I wasn’t!” You shouted back, “I wasn’t feeling well and my coworker offered to cover! You can’t do this to me! You can’t, not after all this time…” You voice died down, “You can’t just…open all of this back up as a second chance because you’re feeling nostalgic over a fling-”
“You were never a fling to me-”
“That’s how I felt after you left-” You suddenly winced, hand immediately pressing to your stomach, instinctual almost despite the pain coming from your chest, Jungkook’s eyes immediately widening and he had closed the small gap between you both. 
“Let’s get you sat down…” Jungkook murmured and you couldn’t help but stare at his hand, big and calloused, multiple rings just the way you remembered, pressed against your bump and a wave of intense sadness thrummed in your heart, what you’d give to go back and change everything. 
You were too tired to fight his touch, and a smaller part of you crying– begging inside your mind to just give in, to put your worries aside and roll the dice again, maybe he’d actually keep his promise this time. 
But you refrained from leaning against him too much as he sat you down on the bed in your room, phone immediately in hand as he called Doctor Choi, after hanging up the air was thick with a silence and tension. 
Jungkook sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed, “...If you don’t wanna talk about it, we won’t. I don’t want you going into preterm…But…I want you to know I didn’t make that decision because I wanted to, and I didn’t do it easily either.”
You self soothed, rubbing your tummy as your eyes closed, “I know you didn’t. At least that's what I told myself the last few years, that surely there was a really good reason…And you wanna know the worst part Jungkook?” You whispered, sad eyes as you opened them to look at him, “I waited…I waited every day, sat at that stupid register hoping you’d come, even after Wonho stopped talking to me I went to the Red Light anyways, hoped maybe you’d be there. There wasn’t a day I didn’t check my phone only to be disappointed by your name not being on the screen…”
It was silent again before you tried to hold back your tears, “You broke my heart. Right in two, promised you wouldn’t leave me, and then you did. And now you’re asking me for another chance?” 
You said you wouldn’t cry, but here you were softly weeping in your bed, feeling like a child once again, helpless and wondering why no matter how hard you tried, nobody ever stayed, you had thought he was different, but it turned out he was just like the rest. 
Jungkook’s hands cupped your cheeks, thumbing the tears away as he pressed his forehead down to yours, “For what it’s worth, I am sorry,” He murmured, “I’m just as much a sinner as anyone else, I’m ill-tempered and cruel, I’ve killed a lot more people then you could ever imagine, but most of all Y/n, I’m selfish, I’m not really a good man. But I could be good, for you.” 
“You don’t know how bad I really want to believe you,” You whispered out, “But I had so long to think about it, to look back and realize I know nothing about you. It was my own fault really, you’re not a good man and I knew that back then, just like I know it right now.”
“I know I hurt you,” Jungkook had a sort of determination in his eye, the kind that you knew was unwavering, he meant every word he was saying, “But there hasn’t been a day I wished it could be different. I’ll do whatever is necessary to earn your trust again.”
You pressed your lips together for a long moment, “I’m not saying it isn’t possible, but you have a long way to go if you really want it.” 
Jungkook’s long slim finger traced down your jawline, “I’ll take it one day at a time, just like the first time.” 
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anantaru · 1 year
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— not saying “i love you” back
including scaramouche, ayato, alhaitham, cyno x gn! reader
꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, we‘re evil (especially in cyno's part)
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— scaramouche
"and please don't forget to buy some fruit!"
you sing over to your boyfriend, musing with a pacifying, settling timbre in your voice when scaramouche indisputably turned around one last time before leaving for the grand bazaar.
in any other occasion, the two of you would proceed to go together, hand in hand, strolling through the entirety of Sumeru City while sauntering in midst the many food vendors to stock up for the upcoming week.
"i will, stop repeating it all over again."
he's gutted, scrunching his eyebrows with indistinct wrinkles showing on his forehead, "i'm not stupid." obviously, kuni was barking back in his usual fashion, tiptoeing around the edge of your nerves.
"obviously you're the smartest."
you responded, with a crooked little grin accompanying your teasing, the taunting that had your boyfriend weak on the knees, making him all giddy but he wouldn't admit it, ever.
he sighs, acting a bit peeved, but in truth he could barely muffle a laugh, or a little giggle at least, "whatever, i'm leaving." your eyes follow him, watching as he walked towards the exit, speaking once more. "bye, love you."
"bye!"
okay, well, maybe you were evil after all.
you weren't sure what brought you to the realization that, yes, maybe now was the right time to poke fun at your boyfriend, provoke scaramouche to tickle a sweet, little reaction out of him.
the moment he had heard you speak, he didn't move, as if he was waiting for the last few sentences he was sure, you must've forgotten.
"really? is that all you got to say to me?"
scaramouche was swaying from leg to leg, left to right, killing time and fiddling his thumbs as his eyes dangerously proceeded to throw daggers on your resting frame, yearning for attention. "mhm!"
as it was, you didn't seem to care, at all, it was both irritating and off putting.
aside from how you were innocently resting on the couch while browsing and paging through a little picture book you bought a while back, you were still, ignoring him, thoroughly indulging in it.
right off the bat, his face tweaked, his left brow twitching in displeasure.
actually, there were two possible routes to take right now, he figured; one, he could either just brush it off and go on about his day or second, he'd go back and find out what he had possibly done wrong this time.
obviously it must've been something quite significant, because normally it's you who's saying 'i love you' first and he needed, no, he deserved to hear that, right now.
so .. how dare you forget about it just like that? without an inch of remorse?
scaramouche was standing upright, shoulders confidently jolted back, while walking to where you were sitting st, and you noticed, of course you did, yet you pretended you didn't, fully immersing yourself into your other activity.
"hey." he speaks lowly now, a little confused but he's got the sprit before carefully lowering himself next to you.
"what's so interesting about this?"
he's ignorantly swatting his hand towards the little book in your grasp, his eyes were now, a touch lower, as if he was sad and actually concerned. "weren't you going somewhere?"
you were expecting this, flawlessly guessing his next step.
yet you opted to burst the bubble before you'd end up giving your boyfriend a heart attack.
meanwhile scaramouche couldn't believe his own hearing, momentarily he was more than fed up, bewildered, "you know what? forget it."
he pursed his lips, you knew he wasn't good with words so when he made an effort to angrily get up from his seat, you quickly wiggled your arms around his waist to drag him down again, nuzzling into his back when scaramouche plopped back into the cushions with a low heave.
"i was just messing with you." you're clasping on him tighter, further when you noticed a slight shake in his body, "forgive me please."
you're mumbling, hardly a whisper, as scaramouche cradled his body to face you, his lips carved into a purse, it was visible on how displeased and worried he had gotten.
he's accepting your apology in his own ways, kind of.
curling himself into your hug and precisely positioning his lips so they’d ghost against your ear, "do this again and i‘ll get back at you." gently kissing your earlobe, "but so much harder."
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— ayato
"i will be free to retire from my duties tonight."
ayato spoke in a tranquil approach while applying a moisturizer on his face, gently massaging it into his skin.
"i'll fetch you later so you can join me for dinner."
it was quite usual for the both of you to plan your day ahead post slumber, above that going over ayato's schedule in particular which was mostly tightly packed and overfilled.
"sounds good to me." you're quick to slip into a cozy garment before lowering yourself to the vanity in his bedroom, smiling and carrying on to finish your daily routine.
taking this into consideration, ayato was set to start his day, slipping himself into his jacket before walking back to you once more.
he's lowering his face to charmingly nudge your jaw, "i'll be leaving now." his knuckles gently stroked down your nape while pondering softly.
subsequently, he quietly settled his lips on your cheek to plant a chaste goodbye kiss on you, "i love you."
that being done, ayato stood tall to walk out of your shared bedroom because normally, in any other instance, you'd say it back anyways, no reason for him to wait.
"until later!" your fingers moved idly over your face, not gifting him a single look back, whatever it was— that was developing right now, ayato at first, had no clue about it.
especially once he's almost reached the door, he figured, wait a minute, how come you still didn't say it back?
strange, he thought.
ayato narrowed his eyes and turned around, carefully observing you, extending all his senses in efforts to get behind the little mystery, and then, in the blink of an eye, it clicked and resonated in him.
"oh." ayato put his deepest, commanding voice, his scent, still hovering throughout the entire room, making you nervous, "so that's the little play you have issued for me today."
you're clearing your throat upon noticing the slight vibrations on the floor, emphasizing that he was walking towards you.
"i don't know what you're talking about, baby."
feigning innocence, you so early deciphered that it was in vein, coming from the mere fact that now, your boyfriend had an amusing grin spread across his smooth lips. "you don't know?"
he slowly clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, quietening his steps once reaching your body and placing his hands on top of your shoulders, watching you through the mirror of the vanity.
he's leaning forward, his shadow overcasting a spell on your body that had all your earlier confidence dissolved into nothingness, you caught yourself panicking and cradled your head to the side to meet his own.
"you know i'm utterly displeased if you act this way."
along the thin skin of your jaw, he planted short kisses on your flesh, his warm, minty breath ghosting over your face, "what way?"
you really wanted to know it now, desired to jump into the cold water without any safety measures.
you took a hard swallow and prolonged the eye contact, "like a brat."
you crooked a smile and then laughed, breathlessly giggling at him.
"ugh, i thought i would win today!"
you, in defeat, dramatically leaned back into the chair to render yourself defenseless, next, cradling his cheek to kiss him tenderly, "sorry."
his animated smile turned your heart ablaze, he was so outlandishly handsome even though he had just woken up half an hour ago.
ayato returned your kiss at the same time, liquifying your touch into his own when he drew himself back, a little, with you still being capable to taste his lips.
"now." he pauses for a brief instance, just a bit, before feebly nudging your nose, "say it back."
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— alhaitham
alhaitham had told you, consistently, to be more mindful about your surrounding, urging you to take of yourself, most importantly your overall health.
and at any time you would assure him that you will listen, yet only shrugging his solicitousness off as nothing more than a small scale characteristic of his 'protective boyfriend' nature which traits he would display occasionally.
yet there you were now, sadly— and much to your dismay, vastly nauseous from coughing your literal heart out and attempting to get rid of the gnawing burn in your throat, your stomach churning after every inch of your muscles pulsing.
obviously for alhaitham personally, it was quite funny in the beginning, after all he had told you numerously to look after yourself, that there was a serious flu going around in Sumeru City.
so .. for you to not listen to his advice after all? let's say he wasn't surprised.
"how's my patient doing?" you can hear your boyfriend sing from across the room as you narrowed your eyes upon noticing that damned grin induced on his face, especially at the amusing little ring surrounding the color of his voice.
"what do you want?"
you're speaking lowly, a little raspy while fighting the soreness in your throat, "did you get my medicine?"
you weren't sure if alhaitham purposely took his time to get your treatment or if it was you, in fact, who didn't have any patience left in your frail body.
"of course i did." he's forcefully rolling his eyes, acting all dramatically while childishly swaying the package in his hand.
"what would *you* possibly do without me?"
folding your arms over your body, you intently stared at him now, as if the sole reason he got up in the morning was to get the best of you, mess with you or maybe punish you for not listening sooner.
alhaitham dropped himself onto the bed where you were currently residing in, comfortably nuzzled up in your blanket when you noticed the apparent shift of weight on the mattress.
you're reaching your hand out for the medicine, an invitation clearly made in vein, "can i?" the chill in the air cuts through the haze and pain in your throat, bringing your boiling blood singing on the surface of your cheeks.
as alhaitham made no effort to actually hand it to you, you were on the brink of snapping, attempting to grab it yourself yet he quickly pulled it back. "now, now." he speaks, amused.
"what do we say beforehand?"
"you're joking." your words are short, clumsy and there was something utterly repellent about the hilarity in alhaitham's tone and mannerism, "i'm not."
you're huffing out an exhausted sigh, reflecting the situation in your mind as to how you could pay him back for this behavior, clearly you were aware of how your boyfriend tends to act, how he could be quite a smart ass to you, but mostly to everyone around him.
instantaneously alhaitham breathlessly laughed as he noticed you zoned out, carefully planting the medicine in your palm, "yes, i was joking." his hand drew itself to your cheek to playfully nudge the flesh when he continued his sentence to you, "you're lucky i love you."
"whatever." you spoke and abruptly closed your hand to plump back into the velvety cushions of your shared bed, fully averting his gaze.
"you can go now."
there is a pause before he said anything, your face was hidden in the pillow when he watched over your shoulder.
"so .. you won't say it back or?"
"nope." you were quick to shush him, "really?"
"yes."
"are you sure?"
"yes."
it was an instinct when he suddenly let out a laugh, but an inaudible one, the sound not echoing through the room when it unexpectedly went back to silence.
okay, well, maybe he was a bit harsh today, he figured, you were sick after all so your reaction was valid.
alhaitham carefully sank himself further into the bed so you could perceive his warm body flushed against yours, his broad arm lazily falling over your waist, "okay, okay, i got the message."
whispering in defeat, you suppressed a giggle, cradling your head so you could look at him, "what do we say beforehand?"
the mock in your voice was evident and he did not mind, replying with a chaste kiss on your forehead, "i'm sorry."
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— cyno
when it came to something as crucial as playing tcg with your boyfriend cyno, he always urged you to never hold back, to ruthlessly crush him with your cards.
most of the times your boyfriend would get quite competitive as well and you, in all honesty, did not mind. It was cute, really, how his face would slightly scrunch up whenever you were able to land a pivotal hit on one of his cards.
but what was a game .. without some additional fun tucked into it?
especially since cyno was overall a protective boyfriend, you'd love to tickle a new reaction out of him that you never experienced beforehand.
"it seems your cards aren't working well together."
he speaks volumes, two little dimples appearing on either side of his mouth as he chewed on the insides of his cheeks, concentrating and figuring out his next move to take.
"you're always so cruel to me, cyno."
you suddenly blurted out, adding a little mewl.
at this, his eyes abruptly widen in irritation, it wasn't particularly the sentence itself that made him struggle to comprehend what you just said, but the way you had phrased it.
"what?" he says at last, slowly tugging his cards to his body, "you never let me win!"
the contents of his mind have been pinned to your face, eagerly, attempting to decipher what the hell was going on right now.
"and i thought you love me, hm, whatever."
you quickly had to hide your face from him, biting back an evil laugh that was just about to spill when he laid his cards down the table.
"wait." he's panicking and for a moment, you felt bad for even playing this little trick on him, or, messing with his emotions, "of course i love you."
your fingers were playing with the hem of your shirt when you acted reluctant to answer.
"oh, that's awkward now."
your mouth split into a half grin, unable to prevent yourself from keeping up your devilish scheme but archons, cyno's face was priceless, he was absolutely bewildered, as if your words alone gave him serious whiplash.
"speak clear to me now."
his words dried in his throat, agonizingly slow, looking just as horrifying as if he was in the midst of working his occupation as a matra, fighting to the brink of utter death.
"when did you plan to tell me that you didn't harbor the same feelings for me after all?"
cyno couldn't feel his heart anymore, yet it was thrumming expressively under his ribcage. 
you breathe in and hold it, nostrils flaring, before you bursted out in a long laugh in front of him, hiding your mouth with the palm of your hand.
"i was just messing with you!"
needless to say, cyno, didn't find it hilarious at all, clicking his tongue while aiming to get up from his seat when you were quick to jump out of your own, dipping him back into the cushions.
"i'm sorry!" you nervously hugged him, tightly wrapping your arms around his neck, "don't be mad."
if only you weren't so sweet or the love of his life then maybe, he could've stayed mad, or at least lectured you about your wrong doings.
but cyno, did not speak at all, rather did he draw himself into you before leaning in to meet your eyes, propping his chin on your shoulder.
"you're a menace." he exhales with a shuddery laugh, shaking his head in disbelieve and rubbing his eyes awake.
the look of deep concern was still vividly noticeable when he danced his hand over your back soothingly, "now's the time." he suddenly words to you, imploring the obvious with his lips barely moving an inch.
"the time for what?" you were confused, lightly pinching his cheek.
"to say it back." he gazes up, his eyes softening like liquid fire, "you forgot to say it back."
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yoongiseesawmp3 · 6 months
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ceilings - san
summary: pe teacher!san x single mom!reader. your kid is finally ready to go to school, and you're spiraling. thankfully, you find friendship with your kid's teacher and she becomes determined to become your best friend. simultaneously, she tries to set you up with the cute pe teacher, but you know him from somewhere deep within your past. can the truth come out without jeopardizing your future?
word count: 12.4k
warnings: afab reader so gendered terms, mentions of accidental pregnancy
masterlist / part two
"violet, come on, we're gonna be late!" you shout to your daughter. it's her first day of kindergarten, her first day of real school, and you're so close to tears. you want to cry because your baby is growing up, because you won't get to cart your little mini me around with you everywhere now, because you're so stressed about getting her to school on time. it's been a rough morning, and your daughter taking her sweet time is not helping.
"i'm almost ready!" she shouts back from the bathroom, and you suppress a groan. what does a five year old have to primp for?
"one more minute and i'm dragging you to the car!" you threaten lightheartedly, knowing she'll only take it to mean she has a minute before you go and help her.
"i'm done," she says proudly as she appears in the doorway to the kitchen. hands on her hips she asks, "how do i look?"
"ridiculous," you laugh. "is that my shirt?"
"and my belt!" she defends herself. "i thought it was cute."
"it is cute, baby, but maybe you should wear something more comfortable for the first day?" you offer. you shuffle over to the laundry basket you left on the stairs and dig around for an outfit, handing your stubborn daughter some jeans and a sweater. "just wear something comfy today, and later this week you can dress silly."
"i wasn't dressed silly, i was dressed like you," violet mumbles, and you roll your eyes. your daughter definitely got your sass, and your stubbornness, but the resemblance kind of stops there. she's a spitting image of her father, a constant reminder of the mistake you made when you were younger. but it wasn't really a mistake, was it? if it brought you the one thing that's made you happier than anything before, it wasn't a mistake at all. violet was the best thing that ever happened to you, and again, the waterworks threaten to fall as you think about dropping her off for her first day of school. a day, you realize, you're late for.
"c'mon sugar, we gotta go!" you shout, grabbing her hello kitty backpack. "i've got your stuff, meet me in the car!"
-
you work close enough to violet's school that you can be one of those annoying carpool parents swarming the school grounds every day. while violet may hate it, you're so excited for all the memories that will come from these trips to and from school each day. like today, you'll always remember how violet started crying a few minutes down the road, claiming she didn't want to go to school because she didn't want to eat school lunch.
"it's not that bad, vi." you tell her as you peek at her through the rearview. "i remember loving some days of school lunch so much i would always go, even if i was sick."
"but you only liked some days," she sniffed. "what if i don't like any of the days?"
"then i'll pack you a lunch," you assure her. "just try it this week, every day, because some days will be better than others. then if you don't like any of it i'll start making your lunch. how does that sound?"
"okay," she nods, her sad little sniffles clearing up. "thank you mommy."
"we're almost there," you say quietly, more to yourself than to your daughter. "are you excited, sugar?"
"kinda," she admits. "i'm excited to see miss jen!"
"she's gonna be a great teacher," you agree. "you're gonna learn so much, and you're gonna have so much fun with her and all the friends you're gonna make. right?"
violet nods again, and you're satisfied for now. you're sure your baby is alright to go off to school for the first time, at least for the time being. surely there will be another thing to freak about later in the day, but for now you need to worry about navigating this carpool line. a man in workout clothes with a haggard looking traffic vest is directing traffic, and while you pass him, you feel your heart skip a beat.
it can't be him, right? there's no way he works here. it can't be. you keep driving, following the cones until you pull up to the sidewalk and a very kind looking teacher approaches your car with a soft smile.
"good morning!" he chirps. "i'm mr. kang, the librarian," he says as he stoops to peer through your window. his gaze goes to the backseat, asking violet, "are you ready for the best day ever?"
she nods shyly, and you watch as she undoes her car seat and slides out of the car with her too big book bag engulfing her frame as she walks away. you shout her name and she turns, a nervous look on her face.
"have a great day, my love!" you blow her a kiss for good measure, and you carry the way she smiles proudly with you for the rest of the day. the man in the traffic vest is all but forgotten, but he watches from afar in confusion. was he seeing things, or were you really here dropping off a kid? a kid, in fact, who looked exactly like he did at that age. weird, he thinks, but he shakes it off and continues directing traffic, wondering how he could find a way to introduce himself over the next few days.
-
when you were younger, your parents always supported you academically, but they were never involved with the school itself. pta meetings were not their thing, and it was a struggle getting them to take off work for a parent/teacher conference. you had decided early on that you would be one of those involved parents, one that knew your kid's teacher well and participated in room mom activities. you were texting violet's teacher last night, actually, asking if there was anything you could bring to help celebrate the first week, and she was eager to have the help.
she'd asked you to bring lollipops, so on thursday afternoon you're searching for a parking spot before school lets out. you were going to drop the goodies off at violet's classroom and help jen with the goody bags during dismissal, quick and easy. except, an intimidating figure walking toward your car may not make this process as easy as you'd have hoped.
san saw your car pull up and immediately stepped out into the parking lot. as the unofficial carpool guardian, one of his daily jobs is stopping parents who try to cheat the system by taking up faculty spots so they can be first in line. san didn't know it was you or he would've approached with a different demeanor, but today was rough. he had at least two criers per class and one kid who ran so hard after lunch he puked outside san's office. he wasn't in the mood to deal with a privileged parent, so he lets out a deep sigh as he approaches your now open window.
"ma'am you can't park here-" he starts, but as soon as his eyes meet yours he chokes on his words. "y/n?"
"hi san," you smile shyly, heartbeat racing. "so i can't park here? there weren't any guest spots out front, and i need to take something to vi's class-"
"vi?" san questions, and you let out a deep sigh of your own.
"violet," you tell him. "my..my daughter."
"i thought that was you the other day," san admits, and you nod in confirmation. "well, um, if you're just coming to drop something off, you're all good, you can leave your car-"
"oh really? i can move, it's no problem-"
"no, no, don't worry about it-"
"are you sure?" you ask, finally stopping the awkward back and forth. "you won't tattle?"
"pinky promise," san laughs, holding your door for your as you get out. "but i'd sneak out before carpool starts up if i were you, it'll be hard to pull out once the lot fills up."
"got it," you nod graciously, slipping your hand into the backseat to grab the bag of candy. san is still standing there, so you clear your throat and try to leave. "well, thanks for letting me-"
"no worries-"
"it was good seeing you-"
"yeah, yeah..." san trails off. once you're a few feet away he calls your name. you turn to see what he needs, and he thinks about it before shrugging. "never mind," he says. "it was nice to see you."
"bye san," you manage to get out before you turn the corner, hands sweaty and heart doing funny flips in your chest.
you hadn't told violet about your visit, so when jen lets you into the room you hear an excited squeal followed by a pair of small arms wrapped around your legs. violet looks up at you proudly, a spot of something on her cheek. you forget sometimes, just how much she looks like san, but your exchange outside has him fresh on the brain. she has his smile. you shake the thoughts from your head and try to take a step, but violet won't budge.
"hey sugar," you laugh, ruffling her hair with your free hand. "go back to your seat, school's not over yet."
"but-"
"violet, do you want to show your mom where to put the bags she brought?" jen offers, and you send her a thankful look. violet tugs on your hand, bringing you over to the "treasure box" which is really just a filing cabinet jen must have filled with candy and toys. violet shows you each drawer, and you make her look away as you place the candy in it's appropriate drawer so it won't ruin the surprise for now. satisfied with her work, violet goes back to her seat as the bell rings for dismissal. you organize some of the other things you brought on jen's desk as she goes over reminders for the class, and then the first few rounds of students start leaving.
"thanks for bringing all this," jen says as she joins you.
"do you need help putting them together?" you ask, and she thinks for a moment.
"no, i don't want to keep you," she starts.
"well, i think i'm stuck for a while anyway," you inform her. "i had to park in a faculty spot, and carpool-"
"oh yeah, you're definitely stuck," jen laughs. "let me get everything set up, and then you can start while i help the rest of the kids leave, if you don't mind?"
"not at all!" you assure her, looking out to find violet watching you both like a hawk. "do you think we'll need another set of hands though?" jen follows your gaze and laughs before waving violet over. the three of you get everything set up, and you ask violet about her day as jen organizes the next group of kids for bus call.
"it was good!" violet says happily. "i liked lunch today."
"what did they have?"
"chicken sammiches," she says, and you laugh.
"sandwiches, baby," you tell her. "sammiches is a me and you word, but some people may not know what that means."
"i like chicken sandwiches and chicken sammiches," she nods. "and then we had pe and a boy in my class threw up. he had pizza."
"gross," you crinkle your nose. "you liked pe though?"
"yeah, it was fun!" violet goes off on a tangent about all the games, and jen rejoins you to help finish the bags. the three of you fall into comfortable conversation with violet as the life of the party. you like jen, you find yourself thinking. you hope it's not weird to be friends with your kid's teacher, because you could really use one here. you're lost in that thought, so you don't notice when someone appears in the doorway.
"mr. choi!" violet chirps, abandoning her task and rushing to meet him. never met a stranger, your child, because she's tugging his hand and bringing him over to you. "this is mommy."
"that's not her name though, is it violet?" jen asks, ever the teacher.
"y/n," san nods, and you don't miss the way jen looks from you to san to violet and back again. "did you get tricked into staying late?"
"no, i offered," you reply. "but i didn't have a choice, i didn't listen to your advice and couldn't leave before carpool started."
"you're all good now," he says, holding up his reflective vest all crumpled in his big hand. "just sent the last kid home."
"good to know," you nod. "vi, where's your stuff? we'll leave soon."
"no!" she whines. "i don't wanna leave!"
"don't you want a snack though?" you tempt her, and that sends the mini menace into motion.
"to what do i owe the pleasure of you stinking up my classroom, choi?" jen asks.
"i wanted to talk to you about the kid that threw up today," he says, and you must look at him confused because he asks you if anything's wrong.
"are you the pe teacher here?"
"yep," he answers. "i didn't know this was your violet," he says, nodding his head toward your kid. "she's a sweetheart. ball of energy too."
"you're telling me," you smile softly. violet walks over then, informing you that she's ready to go. you ask jen if there's anything else you can do, but she insists on you taking violet home.
"you've helped enough, believe me," jen tells you. "i'll see you tomorrow violet!"
"bye miss jen!" violet says with a smile. "bye mr. choi! i hope no one pukes on you tomorrow!"
jen waits for you and your kid to be far enough down the hall before she asks calmly. "so. how do you know y/n?"
"we, uh, we go way back," san says. "went to school together, college, all that."
"oh, so you like, really know her," jen says, a plan brewing in her head. she saw the way san looked at you. she also knows you're single. "you didn't know her kid went here?"
"didn't know she had a kid at all," san shakes his head, and he seems to get lost in a thought before he remembers what he came here for. "anyway, this kid today, you gotta tell him not to eat so much before pe..."
-
you and san didn't grow up together, exactly, but you have known him since high school. you floated around similar groups of friends, so you hung out regularly without ever getting too close. it wasn't until college that you actually became friends. you both went to a local school, at least as local as you can get for your small town. living in a city all by yourself was intimidating, but you weren't worried about not making friends. you knew they would come.
the day of your orientation, san saw you sitting by yourself in the auditorium and immediately recognized you. he brushed off his sweaty hands before walking over and softly calling your name. when you registered who he was, you smiled and invited him to sit next to you. both happy to see a familiar face, you spent the rest of orientation attached at the hip. in fact, you spent the rest of your time at school like that. san was your best friend, nothing more. he didn't always feel that way, but he did a good job of hiding his feelings. he was able to hide how he felt about you all the way up to the final semester of your senior year.
you were thriving, one of those seniors itching to finish school and get out into the real world. you knew you were just months away from a successful career, and you wouldn't let anything get in your way. you liked that you didn't know what was coming next or where you would end up after graduation. the prospect of moving to a new city, hell, maybe a new country, was exciting. this restlessness is what made san speak up. he was ready to graduate too, sure, but he was ready to get out of the city. san always wanted to be a teacher, and he already had offers all across the state, but the only job he cared about was in his hometown. it's where he wanted to be, and he knew that if he didn't tell you how he felt now, he may never get the chance. he wanted you to know so he could at least have a chance with you, even for a little while.
so he confessed, one night early in the semester. he was walking you home, his dorm only a few doors down from yours. at the door to your dorm he pulled you into a hug, which was normal for him. san was always a touchy friend, but what he said as he pulled away still bounces around in your head.
"y/n, i think i'm in love with you," he said earnestly. you looked in his eyes, trying to find the beginnings of a smile, some hint of a secret, that this was a joke. but he was serious. when you didn't say anything he shrugged, stepped away, and added, "i just wanted you to know."
you still don't know if it was shock or fear that kept you from saying anything that night, from calling his name and pulling him back in. but you didn't say anything then, you didn't say anything for months. san pretended like it never happened, and you just went along.
it didn't come up again until the going away party at the end of the year. school was over, finals done, and graduation was days away. everyone wanted to celebrate the past four years and freak out over what was next, all sharing where they were going and how scared they were. san was moving back home to be a teacher and wasn't scared at all. you were leaving for a bigger and better city the day after graduation and you were terrified.
later, san pulled you to the side and asked if you were ok. you knew he was referring to the job stuff, but you had other things on your mind. you were a little tipsy, so you decide that's why you leaned in and kissed him. it was quick, soft, barely a kiss, but you did it. you kissed him and pulled back faster than san could think, his eyes still closed when you parted and said, "i just wanted to know what it would feel like."
you were able to avoid him for the rest of the party, enjoying your last few hours with some of your best friends. you had an early morning, so you stopped drinking before everyone else and found yourself as a designated walker at the end of the night. you and san were elected to walk a few friends back to their dorms, dropping them off as you passed each building on your own walk home. inevitably, you were left alone with san at your door like that night months ago. san looked like he wanted to say something, and you didn't want him to leave, so instead of separating at the door you invited him in.
you'll never forget that night, and neither will san. but with your paths parting in a few days, you thought it would be something you could move on from eventually. a few weeks later, in your new city, at the perfect job, you found out you were pregnant. it hurt, the decision to not tell san, but the thought of stopping your life before it even started hurt more. you figured you would never see san again, or that you could at least keep the kid a secret if you ever hung out with your college friends again. you never thought that you'd somehow end up moving your daughter to the neighborhood where san grew up, or that the great school you fought to enroll her in could possibly be where san currently worked. but that's life, isn't it? or fate. or maybe just dumb luck. whatever it was, the universe was trying to get you to tell the truth and you're not sure you're ready to do that. to yourself, to violet, or to san.
-
san can't stop thinking about you. he tries so hard to catch a glimpse of you during carpool, but he's too busy focusing on a million other things and never manages to find you. he tries to think about how he could use violet to talk to you, like sending a note home with her, but that's inappropriate. he needs to see you again, though. that's when he gets an idea.
you and jen have become genuine friends, which has made things confusing for violet only because she treats jen like her teacher in casual settings. you met up for dinner the other night and violet raised her hand to ask jen a question, so hopefully she'll get used to it. san knows you two are close, and he knows if he asks jen about you she'll tell him whatever he wants to know.
at lunch one day he finds jen in the teacher's lounge and motions to the empty seat at her table. she lets him sit, but warns, "wooyoung saved the other seats for himself, so leave now if you want to."
wooyoung, one of the third grade teachers, was actually one of san's best friends. he's a hand full, yes, but fiercely loyal and caring. san doesn't necessarily want him to hear the conversation he wanted to have with jen, but oh well. as soon as san has that thought, wooyoung is bursting through the door with a stack of plastic containers from the lunchroom in his arms.
"m'lady," he nods to jen as he passes her a container. he looks to san and asks, "you want one bro?"
"what's in it?" san asks skeptically, and wooyoung shows off a stack of chicken sandwiches. "seriously?"
"hey, they're really good," jen pipes up. "the kids are lucky they get to eat these."
"how did you get so many?" san asks wooyoung as he takes a sandwich anyway.
"flirted with the lunch ladies."
"course you did," jen rolls her eyes, taking a bite of the sandwich. she chuckles to herself, and then shares, "you know, there's a kid in my class who calls these sammiches? no matter how many times you correct her, she won't say anything else. she told me this morning she didn't want to come to school, but she did because it was sammich day."
that's violet. san knows it is. he heard a snippet of your conversation in jen's classroom weeks ago, but he also knows he's heard violet say something similar when she comes to the gym. she loves those sandwiches, and san must admit, now that he's tried one he gets the hype. this is his shot though, he thinks to himself. he clears his throat and asks, "that's y/n's girl right?"
"who's y/n?" wooyoung asks, and jen responds, "san's girlfriend."
"no she's not," san says quickly. "she's kidding."
"you like her though?" wooyoung smirks, and san shakes his head.
"i-it's not like that," san explains. "i knew her a long time ago, and haven't seen her for a few years. that's all."
"so what about her?" jen asks.
"what do you mean?"
"well you brought her up," jen laughs. "you want me to tell her you asked about her? that feels very elementary of you, san."
"no, no, i was just, uh," san racks his brain for a response, "um, she's your room mom right? i may need to talk to her, for um, uh, field day."
"sure," jen nods. "i can give you her number, if you don't have it?"
"yeah, yeah," san nods too, "sure, if you think that'll be ok. i mean, i just needed to ask something, really quick, but, um, sure, yeah."
"if you really need to talk to her, she's coming in tomorrow i think," jen says, checking her phone. "yeah, tomorrow is violet's birthday, so y/n is bringing cupcakes at lunch. you can just stop by my class table and ask her whatever you need to ask her."
"oh, cool, great," san nods. wooyoung and jen share a quiet laugh, noticing that san seems like a bobblehead nodding so nervously. "yeah, tomorrow. lunch tomorrow. i'll be here."
-
you're running late. it's your kid's frickin birthday and you're late. you wanted to be supermom, make cupcakes from scratch, but work has been crazy on top of all the prep for violet's party, and you're just one woman. you can't do all of this by yourself, and it's times like these that you wish...no. that's not where you're going to let your mind wander today. today is all about violet, so as you rush out of the grocery store, you handle the store bought cupcakes with intense care. you can't be late and show up with smushed cupcakes.
thankfully this town is small enough that everything is within spitting distance, so you arrive at violet's school with just a few minutes left in her lunch. you hurry through the check in, rushing off to where you hope the lunchroom is. it would be just your luck to get lost right now, but you let out a breath of relief when you turn the corner and see the cafeteria ahead. you have to pause at the door to look for her class, and you hold back a sob when you see one very broad shouldered man sitting next to your beautiful daughter. you manage to walk up without violet seeing you, but at the sound of your footsteps, san turns. he smiles at you softly and he looks so much like violet it hurts. your eyes drift to your daughter, who's noticed you now and bounces in her seat.
"hey birthday girl," you say meekly, clearing your throat before you speak again. "how's your day been?"
"good!" violet smiles, showing you a half eaten vanilla cupcake with purple icing. "mr. choi brought me birthday cake!"
"aw, that's sweet," you say, looking to san. he's staring at you intensely as you ask, "did you tell him thank you?"
"i did!" violet confirms, but she turns to san and repeats, "thank you, it was yummy."
"do you have room for another?" you ask her, holding up the cupcakes you brought. violet already looks ready to bounce off the walls, so you'll have to apologize to jen later, but you ask if she wants to help pass out cupcakes to her friends. you hold the containers as she carefully hands out the treats, and you're pleased to know there were plenty of cupcakes for everyone. actually, there's some left over, so you start packing them up to take home but violet stops you.
"mommy, we need to give mr. choi one," she tells you, and you look to san sheepishly. "and there's one for you too, mommy!"
"i guess we're having cupcakes," you chuckle with san, offering him one of the last two cupcakes. "vi, can i take your spot?" she nods eagerly, letting you sit on the hilariously tiny lunch chair. you struggle balancing on it and look up to see san watching, trying not to laugh. violet is oblivious though, icing smeared all over her face as she talks to her friend across the table. "hey, no laughing. it's been a long day."
"sorry," san says, the remnants of a smile still on his face. "you doing alright?"
"i'm fine," you sigh slightly. you look at san again, really look at him, and you feel your heart constrict. "thank you for bringing her a cupcake."
"oh, sure," san says. "i didn't want to overstep, but jen told me yesterday, and i figured violet could at least take it home, but when i got here and didn't see, uh...you weren't here-"
"you can say it, i was late to my own kid's birthday," you laugh, rubbing your hand over your face. san finds himself staring at your fingers and something pops into his head.
"and again i ask, you doing alright?" he laughs with you. "being a parent must be hard."
"it has its bad days," you admit. "but for every bad day there's hundreds of good ones, so it makes the whole single parenting thing a little easier."
there it is. single. san looks down to your hands again, and has to hide his satisfied smirk. there's no ring.
"so, what-" san starts to ask, but the bell dings and the cafeteria erupts in even more sound. students talking, teachers yelling, chairs scraping as everyone is set in motion. jen walks over then, smiling when she sees you and san sat so close together. she waves hello before calling for her class, and you give violet a big squeezey hug and a kiss on the forehead before she takes her food and runs off. san watches you watching violet, and now it's his turn for his heart to twist. he's missed you. a lot.
"i guess i better go," you say as you gather all of the cupcake trash. san covers his hands over yours, stilling your movements and your heart, and says, "let me, i'll clean up."
"th-thank you san," you say shyly, and he waves you off. he can feel your eyes on him as he walks to the trash cans, and he can't help it, when he turns around he pulls a face that used to always make you laugh. his success rate is still high, because a beautiful giggle appears from deep within your chest, and then san is standing back in front of you. you know him, and you know there's something he wants to say, so you ask, "are you doing alright?"
"i'm fine," he nods, and you playfully push his shoulder. he smiles as he goes on, "actually, i was thinking about it, and i'll need your new number. for field day purposes, of course."
"oh," you breathe. "oh, right. room mom stuff. um, well unless you deleted my contact info, my number is the same."
"oh."
"yeah."
"right, then i guess i'm good," san says, looking around for any last bits of trash. "always good seeing you, y/n. tell violet happy birthday again from me."
"will do," you squeak out, calling out your thanks to him one last time as he walks away. you're left in the now silent lunchroom, heart and mind racing.
-
"i'm just saying, you and san would make a cute couple," jen repeats for what feels like the millionth time today. she's come over to your house early to help set up violet's birthday party, and you're thankful for the help but wishing the set up was less obvious. "you already know each other, so it's not like you'd have to go through that awkward dating phase-"
"did we put balloons on the mailbox already?" you cut through her words, grabbing a couple pink and purple balloons from the pile on the table. "i'll do that now, so people know which house it is. if vi wakes up, tell her i'll make birthday pancakes as soon as i'm done."
"will do," jen salutes you, taking the remaining balloons into the living room. "i'll tack these to the ceiling or something."
"please don't!" you call out before you shut the door, and you take a deep breath when you're outside alone. you don't know how to make jen stop talking about san, and it's draining. you've tried changing the subject and she always finds a way to bring san back into it. she means well, you know that. but what she doesn't know is that everything she says about san just rubs salt in the wound you inflicted on yourself, and it's getting harder to ignore. you're either going to snap and tell her to shut up, or you're going to snap and admit to what you've been hiding. either option isn't ideal, so fingers crossed violet wakes up soon and you can use her as a buffer.
tying the balloons to your mailbox ended up being more of an ordeal than you thought, so it takes you a while to trudge back into the house. you're tired already and the party hasn't started yet. you're making another cup of coffee when you realize the house is quiet, no sounds of jen and no sounds of vi. you let the coffee pot run as you walk around in search of the girls, and you hear a faint noise coming from the backyard. a peek through the window shows jen and violet running streamers from the back porch to vi's playset, and your heart warms. while they're outside, you get to work on the birthday pancakes in peace. you're almost done with them when you get a call, groaning to yourself thinking it's a parent calling about the party. you don't check the name before you answer, letting out a perfectly nice, "hello?"
"y/n, hi," san says on the other line. "is this a bad time?"
"um, n-no," you stammer, "it's um, no, i can talk. just for a minute."
"if you're busy i can call back-"
"no, san, go ahead," you insist. "just be warned i'm making pancakes, so i am a little distracted."
"oh yeah, you used to suck at those," san teases, and for a moment you're thrown back to college. you remember san staying over at your dorm, claiming he was too drunk to walk the fifteen steps down the hall. you let him crash on your floor, and he woke up to an awful hangover and the sound of you cursing over your batch of blackened pancakes. trying to be nice, san tried one anyway. you'll never forget the way you both belly laughed after he lied and said they were good with a look of fear in his eyes. later he admitted he'd never had something so bad, and you swore to never make pancakes again. san obviously remembers, because he asks, "what made you stop the pancake ban?"
"they're for vi's birthday."
"her birthday was on tuesday i thought?"
"yeah, but we're having her party today," you explain, and then you clap your hand to your forehead. you shouldn't have said anything.
"oh then i won't keep you," san says quickly. there's something strange in his voice, but you're so far removed from him that you can't pick up on it. "i hate to call about school stuff on the weekend, but this is the only time i had..."
while san explains the reason for his call (room mom duties + he missed you, but he leaves that part out), jen and violet come in from the backyard. streamers are done, and violet is wearing a torn one around her neck like a scarf. you wave her over for a hug and a kiss, and jen mouths, "who are you talking to?" so you show your phone screen. she gasps when she sees it's san, and it's like you're watching a lightbulb spring from her head. she's got an idea.
"invite him to the party!" jen hisses, and you push her away.
"is that the birthday girl?" san asks, and there's a softness in his voice that makes you melt. "do you need to go?"
"no, just one of the birthday elves being annoying," you grumble, trying to elbow away from jen but she grabs your phone anyway and says a cheery hello to her coworker.
"hey san! happy saturday," she starts off. "listen, are you doing anything around, say, one o'clock?"
"uh, not that i can think of-"
"great! then i'll have y/n text you her address, you should come to violet's party. there's plenty of food, and we'd love to see you!" jen says with an evil smile plastered on her face.
"um, can you hand me back to y/n?" san asks, and jen relinquishes your phone then disappears.
"san, you do not have to come if you don't want to, jen is-"
"jen's what!?" jen shouts from somewhere within your house.
"i want to come," san says, and you're so surprised you almost drop the pancake you're trying to flip. "if that's ok."
"i..." you trail off, and then you look at violet. sweet, lovely violet. you would do anything for that girl, but you know she deserves more. she deserves both parents, and the little part of you that's been wondering if san's reappearance was a sign is the part that wins you over. you say, "yeah, come to the party. i want you here."
"then i'm there," san says, and you can hear his smile. "should i bring a present?"
"no, god, don't worry about that. girl's spoiled already, she doesn't need another toy," you tell him, and san laughs.
"alright. then text me the address, and i'll see you soon i guess."
"yeah, see you soon," you mumble as you hang up and look around for jen. she's rightfully hiding somewhere, but violet's voice distracts you as she asks who you were talking to. "well sugar, i have an extra birthday surprise for you," you say as you plate her pancakes. "mr. choi might be coming to your party, is that ok?"
"mr. choi?!" violet shrieks as she stands in her chair. you remind her not to do that and she listens, but she looks at you and asks, "for seriously? he's my favorite teacher."
"hey," jen whines as she rejoins you, throwing away the remnants of wrapping paper in her hands. "and to think i got you the biggest coolest birthday present ever."
"really?" you and violet ask in unison, and jen nods enthusiastically at your daughter. when she joins you at the sink she whispers, "i didn't go overboard."
"yes you did," you whisper back.
"what did san want?" jen asks with that evil smile again, and you try to elbow her side but she darts away too quickly.
"i had told him about the game the kinder moms wanted our grade to do for field day, and he forgot what supplies it needed," you explain. "so he was calling about that, and the call was almost over when someone interrupted."
"y/n, listen," jen says sternly, and you both look over to violet to make sure she's distracted. jen keeps her voice down as she continues, "he likes you. don't ask me how i know, but i know. and the way you get so nervous around him, i know it sounds childish, but i think you have a crush on him-"
"jen," you say seriously. "please stop. you don't know what you're doing."
"no, y/n, you don't know what you're doing!" jen says, and you step back. "no, i don't mean it like that. i just mean, you said you were having a hard time doing this on your own. it may not be my place, but i think san could help. he'd be good for you and violet."
"you remember how san and i were friends years ago?" you ask, and jen nods, about to add to her case, but you cut her off. "we were close. really close."
"did you kiss?" jen asks excitedly and you roll your eyes.
"will you focus?" you smile anyway, and add, "we spent most of our time together, but then life stuff changed. we went in completely different directions, and it was just easier to say goodbye and go our separate ways. that was five years ago. well, six, now i guess," you correct yourself, your eyes betraying you as they flick back over to violet.
"oh my god," jen gasps. "no."
"yes."
"no way."
"yes."
"you're a liar."
"mommy's not a liar," violet chimes in, and you let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry. "miss jen, that wasn't very nice."
"i'm sorry violet, you're right," jen says calmly. she looks closely at violet and then to you. "but sometimes what's right is hard to do."
"i know that," you sigh. "believe me. but we can talk about this later."
"you bet your ass we are!"
"miss jen!"
"sorry, sorry!"
-
you and jen do a good job of ignoring the truth bomb you set off just before guests started arriving, but knowing san will be here soon keeps you on edge all day. violet is having the time of her life, which takes a little bit of pressure off of you at least. you just have to play host to your family and friends all while keeping one eye on the door for san.
he arrives just past one. you heard the doorbell from the backyard, but as you're walking through the house you see your aunt opening the door for him. it opens to a stunning version of the man you've tried so hard to hide from, and just looking at him makes you blush. he's dressed casually, but nicer than the work out clothes you see him in at the school. jeans and a sweater, and glasses. san never wore glasses in school, and you're wondering why this news is making your stomach flip. when san finds you, his face lights up. he makes his way around a group of kids and pulls you into a polite hug, mumbling his greeting into your hair. you wish time would stop for a moment, let you stay in his hold a second longer. but he's pulling away and shyly presenting a gift bag, his sheepish eyes saying "sorry but not sorry."
"i told you not to bring anything," you scoff, taking the gift over to the present table anyway.
"it's something small, but i think she'll like it," san says, and you thank him. it's awkward for a second as you both search for something to say, but in the quiet san reaches to push his glasses further up his nose and you smile.
"so you getting old, choi?" you tease him, pointing to the glasses. "how long have you needed those for?"
"just a couple years," san shrugs. "i don't mind them, but it's easier to wear contacts at work. i actually like the way they look."
"they're cute," you agree, and you feel your heart thudding in your chest as san processes the compliment. he looks around your house then, and he distractedly puts an arm around you in another hug as he says, "your house is great, by the way. you've really made a life for yourself, y/n." he looks at you while he says the next part, "i hope you're proud of yourself."
"i am," you nod, suddenly very aware of how many people are here and possibly looking at you two. you feign a cough and san gets the hint. he pulls away and you immediately feel cold, but you catch a glimpse of jen eyeing you in the corner of the room. you shake off whatever was distracting you because of the man at your side, and you're about to excuse yourself to find violet when the woman in question appears below you.
"mr. choi!!!" she shouts as she jumps in place. "you're here!"
"i am!" he replies, holding hands and jumping with violet. "are you having fun?"
"yeah! cmere, i wanna show you my swings!" she says excitedly, and then san is being dragged outside. you follow at a safe distance, wanting to see how they interact without making it too obvious you're watching san and not your kid. some of the school kids present recognize a big kid in san and soon he's got a whole herd following him around. you laugh seeing him be so silly, so freely himself with these kids, and you wonder if this is what he's like as a teacher. then you find your mind wandering to what san would be like as a dad. you know he'd be great, so what are you doing?
you know you have to tell him. you see the way violet is smiling and laughing, and you can't keep this kind of joy from her anymore. you don't know when, and you don't know how, but you will tell san that he's the father of your daughter.
-
violet's birthday party was perfect. she had an amazing time, her friends had an amazing time, and you had an amazing time. with san. he fit back into your life perfectly, and as you were saying your goodbyes at the end of the night, you had the intense desire to kiss him. you didn't, but that's only because jen came over with a sleepy violet that she thrust into your arms. you and san were cooing over the tired party girl and jen inconspicuously snapped a picture of the three of you. you and san, looking down at violet with so much love in your eyes, and violet smiling her biggest smile. jen texted it to you later and you were grateful to have this moment captured forever.
you were staring at that photo now, waiting for violet to finish getting ready for school. you weren't really paying attention to the time, caught up in admiring san. you felt a sense of calm and safety when you thought of him, looked at him, and you're kicking yourself for keeping that same feeling from violet's life. you were so distracted by your thoughts that you didn't hear violet walk up, so you almost jumped out of your skin when she says, "whatcha doooin?" directly into your ear.
"oh baby you scared me," you gasp. she giggles and points to your phone.
"you were staring at mr. choi!"
"i was not," you roll your eyes, but she nods and goes, "yeah huh."
"i'm not getting into a yeah huh nuh uh fight with you right now," you say as you ruffle her hair. "you ready for school?" it's then that you give her a once over and screw your face up in confusion. "where's that shirt from? i don't remember buying you that."
"it was my gift from mr. choi, 'member?" violet says proudly as she shows it off.
"yeah, yeah, i guess i do," you reply. "you wanted to wear it to school?"
"so i can tell him thank you," she says simply, and you place a soft kiss on her forehead. your sweet girl.
"i'm sure he'll be happy to see it. c'mon, let's go."
-
san had an awful morning. none of the classes would listen to him, half of his equipment for this unit was broken or missing, and apparently he was getting evaluated this afternoon. nothing was wrong, it was just protocol, but why did he find out about it two hours before it was supposed to happen? he was stressed, unprepared, and wearing a t shirt that apparently has a hole in the armpit. one of the unruly classes so kindly pointed that out for him. so yeah, it's been a bad day. that's why he sat down at lunch with a huff, interrupting whatever jen and wooyoung had been talking about prior to his dramatic entrance.
"what's wrong with you?" wooyoung asks bluntly, and san scoffs.
"one of those days where i'm considering child abandonment."
"san!" jen gasps.
"i'm joking, chill out," he sighs. "i just. can today be over? i'd like it to be over. or can i get a redo? that might be better, considering i have an eval today i know i'm not gonna pass."
"if you go into it like that then duh you're gonna do bad," jen says. "but it hasn't even happened yet, so why be so negative?"
"whatever," san huffs again, poking at his food like it's the root of his bad day. "how has your day been."
"great, my kids are angels and i love my job," wooyoung jokes, so san kicks him under the table.
"your class was the first one to put me in a bad mood this morning."
"yeah, because i told them i accidentally killed our class pet."
"wooyoung!" jen gasps again.
"accidentally!"
"how'd you manage that?" san asks with the beginnings of a smile on his face. not that he was laughing over the death of a very tiny pet, no. but he did enjoy seeing wooyoung making mistakes. makes the world go round, he thinks.
"i forgot to take it home for the weekend and i came in this morning to bob the beta fish belly up," wooyoung explains. he raises his carton of strawberry milk in a toast, which san and jen play along with. "he didn't live long, i didn't like him, and the kids barely knew he was there. bob, may you rest in peace."
"this isn't making me feel better," san whines as they clink their drinks together.
"oh!" jen says happily, "i have something!" she shuffles around looking for her phone, and excitedly pulls something up for san to see. she shoves the screen so close to his face he can barely see anything, so he takes her phone and blinks to let his eyes adjust. he smiles immediately when he realizes it's the picture of him, you, and violet. he's so mesmerized by your beauty, all these years later, that it takes him a minute to shift his focus to the equally beautiful violet squeezed between you. she's perfect, san thinks. if he had a kid, he'd want her to be just like violet: kind, funny, full of energy and life.
"who is that?" wooyoung asks, pushing his face close to san's to catch a glimpse. "ooo, is that your milf?"
it's jen's turn to kick him underneath the table, but san must admit, that was a little funny. he doesn't answer right away, though. something about the picture has caught his attention.
"no," jen says sternly since san has gone mute. "that's my friend y/n and her kid violet, we've talked about them before. san came to her birthday party this weekend."
"the milf?!"
"no!" jen repeats. "violet. i helped y/n with the party, and since she and san go way back, i kinda invited san without her knowing."
"nice," wooyoung nods. "good. get him into the house, and then into her heart. maybe the pants too-"
"dude," san finally cuts in. "what's wrong with you?"
"you two are boring me," he sighs. "sue me if i wanted to have a little fun with our conversation."
"you took this?" san asks jen, ignoring wooyoung now. she says yes, so he asks, "can i send it to myself? do you think y/n would mind?"
"no, i think that's fine," jen replies with a smile. "go ahead."
"thanks," san mumbles, typing his number in quickly to send the photo. he doesn't want to seem weird, sitting here staring at it, but there's still something he can't quite put his finger on. something familiar about it. not quite deja vu, but like he's seen this before. he hands jen's phone back to her, and she continues some inane argument with wooyoung as san checks his phone. huh, he thinks, taking one last look at the photo as he saves it to his library. violet sure has a nice smile.
-
san's day does not get better. the evaluation was mediocre at best, but the assistant principal doing the visit pulled him aside and promised better equipment in the new year. at least one good thing came out of this awful day.
well, two good things. san keeps opening his phone just to stare at that picture of himself with you and violet. his desire to patch things up with you only continues to grow, and he's been thinking about you so much that he swears he hears your voice calling his name at the end of the day. then a squeakier, tinier voice joins in, and san realizes, oh shit, you and violet are in his office.
"hey, sorry," he shakes his head to clear his thoughts. "god, sorry. how long were you standing there?"
"not long," you assure him. "i hope we're not bothering you?"
"not at all," he says as he stands. violet runs up to him then, turning from side to side with her hands clasped in front of her. san laughs, looking from her to you as he asks, "what's going on?"
"vi had a surprise for you, and she forgot she didn't have pe today so she got into the car crying because you didn't get to see it," you explain. "we turned around as soon as i got the story, and now we're here. do you recognize her shirt at all?"
"oh my god!" san smiles, violet joining in. san bends down to pick her up and swings her around to the sound of giggles. "you're wearing my present! do you like it?"
"i do!" she chirps, hiccuping a little as the giggles continue. san slows and carefully places her back down as she says, "thank you for coming to my party."
"thank you for inviting me," san replies, and you realize he's talking to you. you consider telling him now, you can feel his gaze pulling the words right out of you, but you chicken out.
"thank jen," you remind him. "she's the one who ambushed me."
"ambush?" san laughs nervously. "i hope me coming over wasn't an ambush."
"i shouldn't have said that," you shake your head. "i just." you take a deep breath. "it's been hard, you know, seeing you again. getting used to you being back in my life."
"happy to be here," san says coolly, and you pick up on the undertones. you knew he must have been upset with you, only wanting him when you couldn't have him. he'd given you so many chances to be his, but you grasped the last one. san was mad at himself first, and he's not mad at you per se, but the memory of that still hurts. he could have been in your life, violet's life, this whole time. it was you who kept the door bolted shut. now it's like there's little cracks filtering in bits of sunlight, and you're basking in them. you're just afraid that the warmth you feel from san now will burn you someday, that your past will be too hard to get over, and you can't tell him about violet until you know how he really feels.
"listen, we should go, but i want to hang out with you soon," you tell him, and san looks at you confused. "we need to catch up, don't you think?"
"sure," san agrees. "let me know where to be and when, i'll make it work."
-
that friday night, you have a babysitter (jen) and plans to meet san for dinner. jen is already here, you can hear her and violet whispering about something in the living room as you finish getting ready. this is not a date, but you're so nervous it might as well be. you could end up telling san tonight, if things go right. and if they go wrong...that's what's making you so nervous. the anxious side of you is already thinking of schools you can move violet to if the night goes bad, and the optimist is thinking about san finally being a dad to violet.
it's like he knew you were thinking about him, because his caller id lights up your phone (yes, his contact photo is that picture).
"you're cancelling," you say as soon as you pick up.
"what? no, freak," san chuckles. "i'm outside, but i'm sorry, i can't remember if your house has the red door or the blue one."
"you're what?" you ask, walking from your room to the front door. jen and violet watch on in curiosity, and you let out a sound of disbelief when you open the door to see san, standing by his car, looking from your house to the one next door.
"oh. found it," he teases, hanging up as he comes to the door. "you're not ready yet?"
"no, because i thought we were meeting there, i had more time," you say as you check your phone and notice you actually did not have time. "ok, i thought i had more time, but still. you didn't say you were picking me up."
"surprise?" san says sheepishly, peeking inside to wave to the girls.
"hi mr. choi!" they respond in unison, and san chuckles again.
"um, well, i wasn't expecting- i still have to-" you stammer out, basically turning in circles before staring back up at san. "give me two minutes."
"two? it'll be more like ten," san calls after you. you sort of sprint back to your room, checking that you look put together. your eyes look nervous, though. you hope san can't pick up on that. you grab your favorite necklace, one that violet picked out for you recently, and hold onto the heart pendant as you take a deep breath. you can do this. it's just san, your old pal! your friend! the father of your daughter who has no idea his life could have been completely different or that it's going to change with the information you're about to give him! great! let's go eat some tacos!
you and san both give violet hugs goodbye (she insisted) and jen says goodbye with a wiggle of her eyebrows. she thinks this is a date, and she spent an appropriate amount of time hyping you up tonight. she's known san more recently, so she gave you good insight on the whole telling him situation. she assured you that, while he may be frustrated by you not telling him sooner, under it all he'll be happy. he's wanted a family of his own since he started working at the school, so she's sure he'll be nothing but thrilled once the initial shock wears off. boy do you hope she's right.
-
san is being such a gentleman. first picking you up, then rushing out of the car to open your door for you, pulling your chair out at the restaurant...it's making this feel like a date. it's also making you scared that you're going to chicken out, but you can't.
"so," san says with a :] smile. "what did you want to talk about?" you take a moment to mess with the chips and salsa in front of you before you respond. you're taking so long that san takes a deep breath and starts, "i hope you know i'm not mad at you."
"what?" you ask in a small voice, chip halfway to your mouth.
"i'm not mad at you," san goes on. "i never was. i hope you know that."
"but i was a dick," you tell him, and he lowers his head with a laugh. you want him to listen to you though, so you grab his hand laid out on the table and squeeze. "no, seriously, that was such an asshole move on my part. only letting down my walls and letting you in the night before we both moved away? i've never forgiven myself for that."
"but you should," san shrugs. "i understand. i'm glad it happened. if i had to choose, i'd rather it happen the exact same way than not happen at all."
"right," and now it's your turn to look down. you let go of san's hand and go back to messing with the food in front of you. "i'm still sorry for how i acted."
"it's ok, i promise," san assures you. you aren't looking at him so he clears his throat and says, "actually, while we're talking about...back then. i have something to tell you too." oh no, you think. you nod to encourage him to continue, not sure you can speak right now. "um, well, here goes. i know it's been years, and we've barely talked since school, but..i don't know, y/n. i still think you're the one for me, and i was just wondering, maybe, since we're both in the same town again, and we see each other so often..."
"what, san?" you whisper, afraid of what he's going to say.
"will you go out with me?" he asks. "finally?"
"san," you sigh, and he shakes his head.
"no, don't say no yet. you can think about it. i know you have a lot more to consider than i do, so i don't mind waiting. but i wanted to put it out there. in case, uh, in case you were interested."
"put it out there? why are you talking about this like a couch you're trying to get rid of?" you tease him to ease the tension. "you just asked me out and now you sound like you're not sure."
"i'm sure," san says firmly. "very sure. but i don't want you to feel pressured."
"you've never made me feel anything but loved, san," you let slip, and you want to etch the look on his face into your memory forever. he looks so pleased, so purely happy at your words. they're hanging in the air as the waiter comes by to take your order, and that provides enough of a distraction that you both go back to a semblance of normalcy when he leaves. you fall into an easy conversation, catching up over your lost years. san tells you all about work, his family, his friends. it makes you happy that you chose this town, this school, to raise your kid in.
you fill san in too, but only the highlights. you don't want to ruin your dinner with the news, so you tell him about your career since he knows the least about that. he can't stop telling you how proud he is, and reiterates how amazing you are for raising a kid on top of it. you've got a steady blush on your cheeks as you keep chatting, and you notice then that the meal is over. your plates have been cleared for a while, and san paid without you knowing. how'd he do that?
"i was going to pay for my food," you protest.
"nope, my treat," san says. "let someone else take care of you for once."
"well thanks," you squeak out. "i've got you next time though."
"if there's a next time, i'm still paying," san replies so you roll your eyes and drop it for now. "um, before we go though, i was wondering...can i ask about violet? i feel like you barely mentioned her."
"oh, sorry," you laugh it off. "i don't get a chance to talk about myself a lot, so i'm not saying i forgot to mention vi, i just..."
"i get it," san nods in understanding. "you wanted to brag about yourself for a minute, that's ok. i'm glad you did."
"good," you smile shyly. "but, yeah, violet. what about her?"
"i wanna hear as much as you're willing to tell me," san says, and looking into your eyes, you know he means the father. "was there some great love of your life you don't want to tell me about?"
"san, it's not like that," you tell him, then think to yourself that in a way it is true. you think san is the love of your life, but you can't say that yet. "right, well, i have something to tell you, actually," you say in a voice stronger than you expected. you thought you'd be nervous, but it's like some mom power kicks in and you're able to stare directly into san's strong, gorgeous eyes as you speak. "can i?" you motion to his hands, and he holds them out so you can place your smaller ones in his. still looking into the eyes you've grown to love, you take a deep breath and say, "i'm sorry i didn't tell you sooner. but san, you're violet's dad. she's your daughter."
"what?" he asks in a shaky voice.
"when we.." you try to explain, and have to start over, "that night. five years ago-"
"six," san corrects.
"six, you're right. that night was when she...yeah. i found out about violet a month later, after i had moved. i tried calling you. i did, i swear, and i know that sounds so childish but it's the truth. i tried calling you, tried figuring out how to tell you...but i heard how happy you were, how easy it was for you to settle into your life back at home. i didn't want to throw something unexpected at you and change all of that."
you rambled, and you're not sure how easy that was to follow. or how believable it was either, but you've said it. you're watching san take it in, and he's unnervingly calm. you can't read his face at all, but you realize you've been squeezing his hands and he's squeezing yours right back. you relax your grip then, but he doesn't. he stays quiet.
"san, say something."
"th-thank you," he stutters, finally slipping his hands out of yours. "thanks for protecting me from that, i guess."
"san, i-"
"no, y/n, it's fine," he shakes his head and stands. "come on, let's go. it's getting late."
-
the car ride is silent. san says nothing, but you can feel the emotions radiating from him. or maybe those are your own? fear, resentment, sadness...you always thought telling san the truth would make everything better. make you feel at peace at last. but currently you feel more ill at ease than you ever have. you want to crawl out of your skin, you want to scream at yourself, at san, just to get some kind of reaction out of him.
when he pulls into your driveway, he puts the car in park but doesn't unlock the door. you can tell he wants to say something, so you wait. you think you see jen peeking through the blinds, but you're not sure. a quick glance at the clock tells you violet's been in bed for a while, but knowing jen she probably let her stay up a little longer. you hope she's still awake when you go in, you could really use a hug from her right now.
"y/n," san calls your name softly. you turn your body completely so he can see you fully, and you see he's gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white. "does she know?"
"huh?"
"violet," san says her name so carefully, so purposefully. like it's taken on a new meaning. "does violet now i'm her dad?"
"n-no," you stutter, and san slumps his head down. "but i told her about you. about her dad."
"she looks just like me," he says, and that's when you notice the sadness in his voice. he sounds broken, and it feels like your heart rips itself to shreds.
"san, i am so sor-"
"don't. just don't." you watch him carefully, and you think you see tears. "i can't..."
"can't what?" you want to reach out and touch him, to brush the tears away, but you hesitate.
"i can't believe you kept this from me," he says in a whisper so small you barely heard it.
"i was young and stupid and scared, san," you defend yourself. "i didn't know what i was doing, i should have tried harder to get in touch but-"
"i didn't get to be there y/n," he spits out, and you stop talking as he turns to you. "i missed her birth, her first steps, her first words. i wasn't in her life! she's my kid and you kept her from me for some of the most important years of her life."
"i know, and i'm..i'm sorry."
"sorry doesn't cut it." he's full on crying now. "i thought...i thought you cared about me. about what we meant to each other. how could you do this?"
"i was wrong to keep you away," you admit. "it ate me alive every day, but the longer i waited the harder it was to call you. and this is totally self inflicted but raising a kid on my own was hard! after i made that choice i barely had time to think about anything else!" you're shouting now, not out of anger, but frustration. "it was selfish, and i'm sorry. but i told you. you've always been part of violet's life. i tell her about her dad all the time. she asks about you, and i've never lied to her. i only kept your name, who you are to me, a secret."
"yeah that makes me feel so much better," san rolls his eyes, and you scoff before reaching over him to unlock the doors. as soon as you do, you're out of the car and rushing to your front door, san running behind you calling your name.
you get into the house and see jen moving around in the kitchen, but no signs of violet. san has stopped behind you, standing awkwardly at the threshold, so you grab his shirt and pull him along with you into violet's room. at the sound of the door opening she bolts up in bed. she looks confused, seeing two figures in her doorway, but when she recognizes you she makes little grabby hands for you to join her. again, san stays at the door, watching the two of you with a new perspective.
"cmere sugar," you whisper softly, sitting on violet's bed. you maneuver her so she's sitting on your lap.
"why is mr. choi here?" she asks, and you hear san take in a breath.
"his name is san, violet. and he's very important to me," you explain. violet is facing san as you ask, "can you tell us all you know about your daddy?" she nods, and then begins.
"mommy says he's very nice, the nicest man in the world!" violet starts out. "she says he's smart and strong and funny and handsome. she says i have his smile!" and with this she smiles, teeth and all, and san sees himself in her. it brings tears to his eyes, but she keeps going. "mommy says he's caring, and i had to ask what that meant. she says being caring means you're a good friend and you're nice to everybody. that reminds me of you, mr. san!"
"anything else baby?" you ask violet, stroking her hair. "what else do we say about daddy?"
"we love him very much," violet answers proudly. "and even if he's not with us, like in the same house or something, he's always right here!" and with that she puts her hand over her heart. she looks up at you then, asking, "did i miss anything mommy?"
"nope, you got it all sugar," and you kiss the top of her head, afraid to meet san's eyes. "thank you, violet. are you ready to go back to bed now?"
"yeah, but i want a bedtime story," she pouts, and you wonder if san notices how similar they look then too. "babysitter jen does too many funny voices, and one of them scared me."
"ok, i'll read you a story," you whisper, slowly and carefully dumping her back into bed as you stand. "but i need to talk to san really quick, is that ok?"
"uh huh," violet nods with a yawn, cuddling back up to her favorite stuffie. as san looks around her room, he notices a pillow he used to have, tucked in the corner of violet's bed. he used to call it shiber, it was something silly, but he loved that thing in college. it went missing the week before school ended, and san always wondered where it went. well, now he knows.
you carefully pull violet's door shut as the two of you back out into the hallway. the rest of the house is quiet, so you wonder briefly if jen has gone home. you look to san, ready to defend yourself further, get him to understand where you're coming from, but then you see the tears on his cheeks. now you do reach up and wipe them away, his hands covering yours and squeezing tightly.
"i am so sorry for keeping you away," you say one last time. "it was wrong. it will take time, but i will do everything i can to make that up to you."
"you can do it right now," san breathes out, the first easy breath he's taken since this conversation started. "let me be in her life. in yours. i missed so much, i can't miss anymore of it."
"we're here if you want us," you tell him, and san squeezes your hands again before pulling them from his face. he drapes your arms over his shoulders, his drifting to your waist.
"i do," he nods eagerly. "i want you." and with that, he kisses you. it's not a soft kiss, no. there's more force behind it than that. there's six years (maybe more) of repressed feelings in that kiss. it's the kind of kiss that makes you want to pop your foot up, the kind that sends butterflies soaring up from your stomach through your chest. you're so lost in the feeling that you don't hear violet's door open, and then...
"oh! mommy! mr. san is biting you!" violet shrieks, so you and san finally detach. you keep your foreheads together as you look down at violet staring disapprovingly at you.
"he's not biting me, we were kissing," you explain to her, but she doesn't like that answer.
"hey, i got in trouble for kissing a boy on the playground," she whines, and san looks at you in shock. you nod to confirm as you tell her, "that's because you shouldn't kiss at school. and you're too young. you can kiss when you're-"
"thirty," san finishes for you, making you both laugh as violet whines more.
"i was just gonna say when she's older," you whisper to him, and he shrugs.
"had to assert my parenting style somehow."
"why are you and mr. san whispering?" violet asks with a jump and her arms in the air. you're about to pick her up when san bends down and scoops her instead, so you can talk to her eye level.
"we're talking about you," you say as you boop her nose. "and stop calling him mr. san."
"what do i call him then?" she pouts, and you share your first silent parent language stare with san.
"actually baby, we have something we need to tell you..."
909 notes · View notes
redbullgirly · 5 months
Note
Hellooo 👋, can you write enemies to lovers with fernando alonso maybe with some angst? 🤭
It's totally alright if you don't want to! Thankssss :))
EL DESTINO [FA14 oneshot]
Fernando Alonso x reader
Masterlist
Summary: Y/N works for Alpine, and even though Fernando Alonso isn't part of the team anymore, they can't forget their distaste for each other. The driver seems to think she's just an irresponsible party girl and Y/N doesn't like him because he's, well... annoying and mean and doesn't care about anybody but himself. Though could they be both wrong in their prejudices?
Word Count: 4.5k
Warnings: Not much, maybe they're kind of mean to each other and stupid at the start, but that's the point of enemies to lovers, right? XD
Author's Note: Hello Anon and thank you for the request! I didn't expect it to turn out so long, but hey XD. I hope you and everybody else will like it. Also I tried for a little bit of angst, but I'm not sure if I'm good at it... you can let me know :).
If anyone could read your thoughts at the moment, you’d probably end up locked behind bars and with the key from your cell thrown far away. Whoever's great idea was to allow the group of inexperienced interns to touch the important data and statistics deserved to rot seven feet underground. Chopped into small pieces. And doused in poison that eats their lifeless body until there's nothing left.
Okay, that's maybe a bit too violent, but still not far from the truth.
You rubbed your tired eyes, not caring about smudging the mascara anymore. There was basically no one left in the building, just a few mechanics desperately needing the cars to be in perfect condition tomorrow – or should we say today? And then there was you, who stupidly agreed to fix the disaster caused by too much excitement and not enough cautiousness. You knew the interns didn't do it on purpose, and blaming them wasn't going to help you, but still. It wasn't them who had to sit there long after their working hours ended, staring into a too bright computer screen.
When you finally managed to save all the damaged data, it was almost three in the morning, and before you made it back to the hotel, you weren't sure if it was even worth going to bed. Because of the emergency, you didn't have time to finish your usual duties. And even though it wouldn't be fair to want the analysis from you, that wasn't how the game was played in motorsport.
Legs almost giving out under you, you dragged yourself to the elevator. The poor lady sitting at the receptionist desk looked at you skeptically, but didn't say anything as you stepped in and pressed the button with the number of your floor on it. Generic music started playing, numbing your brain even more.
The metal door was about to close, but then a hand came between it. Before you blinked and processed what's happening, a man slipped into the elevator right next to you, pressing his own number.
You see, everything could have been fine. You could've just survived the thirty seconds of embarrassing silence, then mumble a polite goodbye and go to sleep in peace. But no. Fate apparently had other plans for you.
Because as the man turned to you and the bright light hit his face, you realized it wasn't just some stranger.
Suddenly, the silence shifted from the normal elevator weirdness to tension. You pressed your lips together, silently cursing the higher power that decided to mess with your life just today, when you looked like a zombie. With smudged mascara. Perfect.
For someone, maybe it would be a fulfilled dream to be in an elevator with Fernando Alonso. Two time World Champion, great driver, loved person. And a dickhead that almost ruined your whole career.
“You look like you had a wild night,” he murmured with a thick Spanish accent. You narrowed your brows, trying to control the anger bubbling inside of you. Was he trying to insult you? You wouldn't even be surprised.
“Perhaps I did, thank you very much.” Your voice lacked any signs of friendliness, clearly trying to provoke him. It was quite funny, really, how a minute ago you didn't have energy to think clearly, and now you were ready to argue with this man over anything. Almost like the magic of despising someone.
You noticed his jaw tensing and knew it wouldn't be good. But still, his words hurt: “Maybe if you focused more on doing your job instead of wild nights out, Alpine would do better.”
The sting in your chest was strong, but by some miracle the elevator finally stopped, and the robotic voice announced the twenty-sixth floor. Even life itself took pity on you, it seemed.
Without any other word, you turned away from Alonso and walked into the empty hallway, hearing a quiet scoff and then the door sliding closed again behind you, leaving you all alone in the darkness. How poetic.
Every door you passed looked exactly the same, and you just hoped you remembered your room number correctly.
You didn't even remember taking out the card and entering your temporary home for the weekend. You didn't remember taking your clothes off, removing the remaining makeup with a tissue because you were too tired for your usual skin care routine. You didn't remember responsibly setting up your alarm and then falling into the soft mattress.
All you could remember before the exhaustion took over were his words that cut deeper than he thought, and deeper than you'd like to admit.
-----
You couldn't believe it.
As you walked out of the debrief, you could basically feel everybody's frustration crawling up your spine, mixing with your own. The team, all the mechanics and engineers, pit crew members and marketing, hundreds of people worked so hard the whole week. And for what?
It was already bad when both cars didn't finish the last Grand Prix in Silverstone. But for it to happen again? That was downright embarrassing. Not only did it bring exactly zero points in the Constructors' Championship, but the drivers were angry, disappointed. You could see that in the team, the motivation level decreased quickly. And honestly, you couldn't blame them.
Last year, Alpine was the fourth-best car on the grid. Best of the rest, as they'd call it. But this season, everything was going terribly. You honestly weren't far from crying.
To lighten up the mood, some of your colleagues decided to enjoy a night out in Budapest before you'd have to fly to Belgium tomorrow, to prepare for yet another racing weekend. At first, you declined the offer, insisting you needed to catch up on some work, do analysis for the car and figure out exactly what happened to it. But then, one of the mechanics you were friendlier with saw your drooping shoulders, and pulled you into the club despite all your weak protests.
Soon enough, you let loose and after an hour, you were a few drinks in. Your head was spinning, a big smile planted on your lips and giggles coming out of your mouth uncontrollably. Not that you had low alcohol tolerance, but the last time you got properly drunk was some time ago. Perhaps you just forgot how it felt. The freedom, the sweet mist of oblivion clouding your mind.
Currently, you were sitting at the bar, sipping on a cocktail. You already enjoyed your time on the dance floor, which tired you more than expected. Thank God you went to the club right from the paddock, so instead of high heels that'd kill your feet, you had comfortable sneakers on.
As you waved at the young barman to give you another round of whatever he mixed for you before, you felt someone's eyes on your back. You didn't bother to turn around, thinking it was just another drunken man checking out half of the women in the club.
Then, someone stood behind you. “The drink's on me, hermosa,” the man said, voice smooth like honey. You froze. You knew that deep, thick Spanish accent too well. What the hell was Alonso doing here?
He clearly mistook your silence for an impressed one, or so you thought when he came to sit down next to you, his hand gently brushing your back. That was the moment you turned your head towards him, eyes wide, and his face dropped. So did yours.
You hoped for a split second you could pretend you were total strangers randomly meeting in a bar for just a little longer when he instantly frowned and his demeanor changed from charming gentleman to pain in the ass.
“Y/L/N,” he uttered it in a way that made you wonder if there was something wrong with your last name. “Guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you here.”
And here it was — the instant wave of anger and hurt he managed to bring up by just a few poking words.
“Says the right person.” You rolled your eyes, the flowing feeling the alcohol gave you before now gone. You felt like you were going to be sick. “I bet if it wasn't me you tried to hit on, you'd bring the poor woman to your hotel room tonight.”
“Careful, or you might sound jealous.”
“Oh, you wish, Alonso,” you laughed humorlessly. 
The bartender chose that moment to bring you the requested cocktail you already forgot about. You gave him the cash, though you had no intention of actually drinking it. As always, Alonso left a sour taste in your mouth.
“I see you're drinking the team problems away,” he pressed harder, knowing damn well it was a sensitive topic. You gritted your teeth, reminding yourself to be the better person.
Then you looked into his dark eyes, and your self-control was gone. For some reason, you couldn't stand the look he was giving you. It was full of something that was too similar to disappointment. You hated people being disappointed in you, even if you hated that very person.
Out of nowhere, the alcohol kicked in, and you remembered why you didn't drink in clubs too often — it made you emotional. So stupidly sensitive that you couldn't stop your eyes from tearing up. You shook your head, opened your mouth, wanting to tell him something. Anything that'd make him just as much hurt as you were.
Instead, you bit your trembling lip and abruptly stood up. You almost knocked over the bar stool, though at the moment, you didn't really care.
Was it cowardly to run away from him and his harsh words? Yes, you knew that. But you did it in the elevator, and so you could do it again.
In a rush, you got through other people enjoying their night out, oblivious to the lump forming in your throat.  You needed to get out, breathe in the fresh air and just forget about everything.
It was probably nearing midnight, and even though it was late July, you still shivered when you stepped outside the club. Just then you remembered you left your jacket back in the paddock. And you also realized the mechanic and his group of friends drove you here, and you had no idea where you were or how to get to your hotel room.
“Great. Just fucking perfect,” you mumbled to yourself, a few tears running down your cheeks. You wiped them away, willing yourself to calm down. Budapest couldn't be too different from other European cities, so you'd just walk to the nearest public transport station and then see what you could do from there. Yes, that was exactly what you're going to do, and it's going to be okay.
Having a plan calmed you down, at least a little. You walked in a direction you hoped would get you to the center and took your phone out. The battery was low, and you cursed yourself for not charging it during the day.
“Where are you going?” You winced and nearly dropped the phone when you heard the loud voice calling after you.
When you turned around, you already knew exactly who was standing before the club entrance.
“That's not any of your business,” you tried to sound tough, but it came out tired and weak. So instead, you lifted your head, trying to save the remaining bits of your dignity.
Alonso tilted his head, brown eyes studying you for a moment before he made a step towards you. “Don't tell me you don't have anyone to take you back to your hotel?” The undertone of his voice was strange, and if you didn't know better, you'd think it was worry seeping out.
“Oh, then I won't tell you,” you fired back, satisfied with your own answer as you turned around and left him standing there.
You made it around the block when a strong hand suddenly grasped your hand, and you screamed, prepared to fight whoever attacked you.
“¡Ay dios mío!” Alonso cursed and held his red cheek, where there was a clear hand print now.
You stared at each other in shock. You wanted to kill him for scaring you to death, but at the same time, you were relieved it was just him and not a creepy kidnapper.
“I'd say I'm sorry… but I'm not,” you managed to mumble. A weak attempt, you knew that. But it still seemed to wake him from his trance and make him scoff at you in annoyance.
However, he didn't let go of your hand.
“Let's go,” Alonso urged you back towards the direction you came from.
“I'm not going anywhere with you.”
“Y/N, if you think I would let a drunk girl wander around a city she doesn't know, alone, at night… then you clearly don't know me at all.”
It took a few seconds for his words to hit you, and all there was left for you to do was to look up at him with surprise written all over your face. That seemed to annoy him for some reason, but with alcohol still very much present in your system, you didn't have the capacity to think about it too much.
“Let's go,” he repeated, though this time you didn't protest when he started walking towards what turned out to be his car. You knew it very well, from the years you used to work together, for the same team. Silently, you wondered how the hell did he get it to Hungary, but you soon forgot about that.
Fernando unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for you. Your mom would probably tell you to be more cautious about getting into the car of a man you didn't like and were sure he didn't like you as well. But hey, it's still better than being lost in a foreign city, right?
So you sat down, and before you could reach for the seatbelt, he took it and strapped you himself, mumbling something about safety hazards with drunk people. You were so surprised by that unexpected action you didn't even have time to feel offended.
You closed your eyes, the comfortable seat making you sleepy. You heard him get in the car as well and join the night traffic. For a moment, silence reigned and for the first time in a long time, it didn't feel horrible and tense.
“Isn't it illegal to drive with alcohol?” you whispered, eyes still closed.
“I didn't drink anything in the club. Too busy with you.”
Just then, you realized you actually asked the question out loud.
“Sorry for ruining your celebration night. Probably didn't want to leave it with me,” you laughed quietly. When he approached you in the club, he thought you were a random pretty woman with whom he could share a drink and take her to his bed for a fun night.
“Whatever.” You could hear him shrug his shoulders. “Sorry for ruining your night. Though you don't have much to celebrate.”
That made you open your eyes and gaze at him. He was looking straight ahead, concentrating on the road ahead. The lights of the other cars occasionally landed on his face, and you wondered if he was always so handsome, or it were the cocktails speaking for you.
“Wow, even in an apology there's a hidden insult,” you snickered, though there was a small grin on your lips now. Yes, definitely the alcohol speaking for you, you told yourself.
This time, Fernando actually looked at you before he averted his sight back to the traffic. “I wasn't insulting you, Y/N. I was insulting the team.”
You raised your eyebrows, but didn't comment on it. It was pointless to argue over this, he had his opinion about Alpine and given the fact both your cars didn't finish two races in a row, you didn't have exactly the best arguments to convince him otherwise. After all, he was part of the team last year. And the year before.
For the rest of your ride, there wasn't much more said between the both of you. You were tired — not just because of the night out and drinking, but from the whole week, from the whole season.
Finally, he parked the car before a building you recognized. You didn't ask him how he knew which hotel your team booked, perhaps he remembered it was the same one as the year before. Honestly, you were just glad he helped you get out of the car and walked you inside.
Then, you found yourself in an elevator alone with Fernando, again. Though unlike a month ago, he gently held your hand for support this time.
You told him your room number and somehow, he got you all the way in front of the door. You thanked all the saints in the world when you dug the keys out of your purse. After three unsuccessful tries at unlocking the room, Fernando's patience apparently ran out. He took the keys out of your hand and silently opened the lock.
“Thanks,” you muttered, and let him lead you inside your own hotel room.
When the light switch turned on and illuminated all the papers lying around, he looked at you, flabbergasted.
“What's all this?”
You shrug your shoulders and look at him like he was stupid. Which he was, at least in your humble opinion. “Work. What else?”
“Yes, yes. But why is it… here?” He motions towards the desk, nightstands, and bed.
“Because I don't have time to do it all in the office.”
“You work overtime?”
Now you were starting to get irritated.
“Yes, I work overtime. Maybe if you weren't so insistent in thinking I'm a dumb party girl ever since I made one stupid mistake in your car's analysis a year ago, you'd see I'm actually trying my best.” You hated how hurt you sounded, pathetic in your own ears.
But honestly, who was he to judge you? You never actually stood up to him before, defended yourself against his mean words. You always sucked it up, let him complain about you to your boss, who almost fired you because of the driver's obvious distaste for you. And when he left the team at the end of last year, you never tried to contact him, talk to him. Fix your non-existent relationship.
Today, though, you had enough. Maybe it was the alcohol giving you courage, maybe it was his shocked face when he realized you actually did your job.
“Y/N, I-”
“Get out,” you said in a tone that didn't allow for any objections. Fernando seemed to understand, but the pained expression didn't leave his face when he slowly walked to the door. Like he didn't really want to leave, like he desperately wanted to tell you something.
You didn't care about him. He never cared about you before as well, did he?
And so, with one last, regretful look in his dark eyes, Fernando Alonso left your hotel room. When tears ran down your cheeks, you weren't sure why you were even crying.
-----
You were avoiding him after that. It wasn't the easiest thing to do, but you managed and after surviving the Belgian Grand Prix in Spa, you were excited about the summer break as never before. Almost a whole month without races, which meant you wouldn't have to meet anyone from the other teams, including Fernando.
Usually, the team worked tirelessly through the summer break — it was a great chance to have a proper look into the car's engine and come up with new ideas and improvements. God knew you needed that. Typically, you were amongst those loyal employees, basically living in the Alpine headquarters.
However, this year you really wanted a break. So you used your vacation days and stayed in your flat, finally sleeping like a normal person for once, eating home-cooked meals instead of team catering and enjoying the summer, though the weather could be better in England.
It was the start of August when you started finding flower deliveries on the threshold of your door. First, you thought it's a mistake, though what woman would refuse a beautiful bouquet of her favorite flowers. When it happened a whole week in a row, you thought about having a secret admirer or, in the worse case scenario, a stalker. Though, you still took the flowers inside every morning, cherishing them.
And then, one day, there was an envelope attached to the bouquet, and you had to curse yourself for being so, so stupid. Of course it's him, Fernando. Begging you to talk to him, to let him explain. One dinner, he said. One dinner, and then he'll let you go on about your life.
When he tried to write a poem in the middle of August, you finally gave in. You found his old phone number saved amongst many other contacts and sent him a simple “okay”.
The next morning, there was a time and address of the restaurant in the envelope.
You didn't let yourself get too excited about any of it. It's Fernando Alonso, the man who almost caused you to get fired from your dream job, the one that was so mean to you after making wrong assumptions about you and your way of life. Yes, he was trying now, but was that enough?
When the taxi dropped you off in front of the fancy restaurant, you took a deep breath. You had a simple dress on, light makeup, and a few accessories.
You walked into the empty restaurant. The waitress smiled at you when you told her the name of the reservation and led you to the only set table. You could see the deep brown eyes looking directly at you from afar.
Suddenly, nervousness settled in your stomach. If you didn't know better, you'd think this was a date — it certainly felt like one.
Without a word, he helped you sit down on a chair across from him and the waitress handed you the menu. It was without prices, but you were certain this place was lavish and expensive. Perhaps Fernando didn't want you to worry about it and let you order anything you wanted. And you tried not to be too impressed by that.
“You look very beautiful, hermosa,” he spoke after a minute of tense silence while you pretended to be interested in the menu. You didn't miss the fact he used the same nickname like that night in the club, when he thought you were someone else.
“Compliments won't make it easier for you.” Maybe you lied, because you liked him calling you beautiful.
“I know, but I couldn't help myself.”
The waitress came back with a bottle of wine that Fernando must've ordered before you arrived. You took a sip and it tasted like heaven. It almost made you forget about everything, almost.
“Please, can we talk?” You never heard his voice sound so… unsure.
“Aren't we talking right now?”
“Y/N.” The way he said your name was so soft, so delicate.
“Fernando.” You saw him flinch, and you realized it was probably the first time you called him by his first name. Suddenly, the whole situation felt more intimate.
He gulped, but there was determination written all over his face. Fernando Alonso wasn't the type of man to give up, you knew that. His amazing racing career was proof of that.
“Listen to me, please. I know that you have the right to never speak to me again after how I treated you. But I want to fix it, Y/N.”
Those brown eyes were going to be the death of you, burying themselves into your soul, your heart.
“I want to fix all of it, Y/N,” he repeated with all seriousness. “If you let me,” Fernando added.
And how could you say no to him? Deep down, you always admired him. Liked him, even. Before that fuck up with his car's analysis, you thought he might like you back. You always wanted his approval, and that was one of the reasons why his words and insults hurt so much.
Sometimes, people deserved second chances. Especially when they were looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.
Slowly, you nodded. “I think I might let you, Fernando.” You smiled, liking how his name felt on your tongue. “But it's not going to be easy, I'm telling you that,” you warned him with a raised finger.
“I wouldn't dream of anything less,” he replied with a thick Spanish accent that was stronger when he felt emotions. Fernando returned your smile and clinked his glass with yours.
-----
Brazil was a good race. Both Alpine cars ended up in points and Fernando, your Fernando, got another podium. You clapped along with others during the podium ceremony, eyes just for him. A proud feeling settled in you, and as he accepted his trophy for well deserved third place, he looked down at the gathered crowd. Mostly people from Aston Martin, McLaren, and Red Bull.
And then there was you — in your Alpine t-shirt, clapping for the driver who scandalously left your team last year, without a care in the world. That was when he knew he loved you, and that he'll always will.
You knew you loved him too when, after all the celebrating around the circuit died down or moved to clubs and private parties, instead of going to his hotel room, he knocked on the door of yours. Checking on you.
“Hermosa, I hope you're not working.” He rolled his eyes as he stepped in, seeing you indeed staring into your notebook at some data he probably shouldn't see as a part of a rival team.
“But Nando, I need to finish these-”
He cut you off the best way he could — hugging you from behind, gently turning your head towards him and placing his lips on yours. You instantly melted into the kiss, giving up the fight before it could even start.
“I think you need to properly celebrate your boyfriend winning,” he smirked, biting your lip teasingly. You felt like a teenage girl when the butterflies took off in your stomach.
Fernando slowly walked you to the bed, never parting your lips, as if his life depended on kissing you. You sat on his lap, your hips grinding against his as you moaned into his mouth.
And he couldn't help himself. He wanted to take you out on a magical date and tell you there, but how could he keep it a secret when you were sitting on him, so beautiful that his heart clenched. Smart and pretty girl. His smart and pretty girl.
“Te amo,” he whispered into your sweet lips, and your breath caught.
You pulled back a little, looking at him, silently asking if you heard him correctly.
“Te amo, Y/N,” he repeated. You knew enough Spanish for your eyes to tear up. “I love you very much.”
There was a heartbeat of silence, probably the longest one in your whole life.
“I love you too. So much,” you whispered back. And then, for him: “Te amo, Fernando.”
Now it was his turn to tear up, hold your face in his hands and press your foreheads together.
Perhaps the fate and its plans for you weren't so horrible after all.
THE END
Author's Note: Wow, if you read it all to the end, thank you very much! I'll be glad for likes, comments, reblogs, follows and every other way of support. Let me know how you liked this story and if you'd maybe like another oneshot from this "universe" because I have to admit, this version of Fernando and Y/N kind of grew on me... Have a great day and see you at the next post! :)
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luimagines · 5 months
Note
Ya know we have a lot of the chain ‘he realizes he’s in love’ but what about when he realizes YOU’RE in love with him? Maybe they catch you looking love struck at them, or a breathless praise cause he’s so pretty, just all sound saps
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Sure thing!!
Masterlist
Part One will include Twilight, Four and Sky. :D
Content under the cut!
Twilight
Twilight was in the middle of washing some gunk off of his shirt down the river when he figured it out.
Granted, he was in denial for a good part of the week afterwards but he always got a little doe-y eyed in heart when he thought about it again.
He didn't think much of it when you were doing the rest of the laundry with him a little way away form him. Twilight was too busy trying to actually do a half decent job to notice it at first.
Then he looked your way, wondering if you were having as much luck as he was.
He wasn't prepared for the expression that was waiting for him when he turned.
Your eyes were soft, and your smile was so subtle that it looked as if you were viewing him for the first time with quiet awe and adoration. Your mouth was slightly open and your entire stance was relaxed and calm. The laundry you had in your hand was about to be taken down the river if you weren't paying attention.
His heart jumped to his throat and he suddenly felt self conscious that you were staring at him for who knows how long. He had forgotten entirely the task at hand. He wasn't expecting this.
Twilight felt his mouth go a little dry as he stared back at you. His face grew warm at the thought that you were looking at him this way. And what else would be looking at?
The only person was Legend, but he's behind you. And he's too busy trying to fix up one of Hyrule's tunics to pay attention to either of you.
Twilight feels his expression soften. Oh, how he's wanted to be the one who you looked at this way. Is real life? Are you really that enamored by him? Are his eyes deceiving him?
"Hey." He calls to you softly.
It seems to break you out of whatever trance you ended up in. You drop the laundry and you take a poor step back. Luckily you seem to catch yourself before you fall into the water but clearly you're more than embarrassed at being caught.
You're face goes bright red and you laugh nervously in an attempt to play it off.
Twilight's heart flutters at the thought. The tiniest light of hope shines through.
He winks at you.
You grow bashful and he think he might just have to talk some more when you're both done with your chores.
Four
It took him an embarrassingly long time to figure it out. 
It was less him figuring it out and more so, someone telling it to his face. Directly. Bluntly. And it still didn’t click.
“They like you.”
Four just looks at them with wide eyes- no thoughts in his head. “I mean... I’d hope so? I like them too... You’re supposed to like to your friends.”
A small twang strikes him in the heart at his own words. He feels like an idiot for saying them anyway. Despite their truth, he wishes you would look at him in the way he looks at you. With tenderness and desire. With hopes and quiet confessions. With dreams and unspoken promises.
”No Four.” They grit their teeth, trying their best to remain patient. “The-want-to-hold-you-hand kind of like you.”
Four bite his teeth, feeling his heart start pounding in his chest. A soft blush comes over his cheeks. Wouldn’t that be nice? Just to hold your hand. He thinks it would be very soft. Much different than his callused hands from the forge work and his swordsmanship. “It’s not like anything is stopping them, right? I wouldn’t mind it.”
If anything he would quite welcome it.
“You’re so dumb.” They groan, smacking their forehead and dragging their hands down their face. “They blush whenever they see you! How do you not see that?!”
“What are you talking about?” Four rubs the back of his neck, feeling like he’s missing some very vital information.
“They love you!”
“Well I love them too!” Four starts to get defensive. “What does that have to do with anything?!”
“Not platonically, idiot!”
“Then in what other way-”
“They want to kiss you. They want to go out on dates. They want to get married and grow old and have a garden outside the house with a white picket fence- I don’t know!” They shout, all ounce of patience lost. “But so help me, we’re all tired of seeing you two dance around each other like awkward teenagers.”
Four clenches his jaw at that. “So what if we are? How can you just say-”
“They! Are! IN LOVE! With YOU!” They give up, grabbing Four by the shoulders and shake him with emphasis on every beat of their sentence. “GODDESS!!!”
Four is set back a few steps with the strength they all but launch him back with. Four only stares at them dumbly. The words take a minute to process through his skull. “...They do?”
His friend all but collapses to their knees with their hands grabbing fistfuls of hair in frustration. ”YES!”
The blush on Four’s face grows ten fold as he looks not to subtle at the direction where he knows you’re at. He hopes that you’re far enough away where this whole ordeal was out of ear shot.
“...oh...”
“YES!”
Sky
Sky wasn't sure what to think about this new development. Could he dare to hope? Would it amount to anything? Would he be at risk of ruining it all if he were to act on his suspicions?
You had begun to act more and more shy around him. Which... didn't work for him if wanted to spend more and more time by your side.
Sky was curious about your escalating change in behavior.
It was time to experiment.
He tried to set up circumstances that would get the two of you together and alone. Just so he could try little things and see your reactions. He wanted to have some sort of foundation for his suspicions and the confidence to be able to act on them.
A small brush of your hair here, nudging your hands together there- just little touches- little gestures. He brought you a flower. He saved you a seat. He'd compliment your appearance when he noticed you doing something new.
Sky tried to watch your reaction each and every time. You always seemed to be happier and you'd blush softly each and everytime.
It gave him hope.
It gave him the strength needed to not only work up the courage to do more and more for you but to do something about it.
Sky knew that the others were catching on to what he was doing. But no was willing to stop him, which only furthered his suspicions that you have somewhat reciprocated his feelings.
"Ok." You looked at the map in your hands. "If we went north then we can eventually hit the river, then we can gather up enough water for the group and maybe clean up some of the clothes that were damaged in the last battle."
"Sounds good to me." Sky grinned and put a hand on your shoulder. You bite your lip and blushed. With a small smile, you turn to him and fold up the map.
You provided him with the perfect opportunity. He leans in, kissing you cheek casually. "Let's go."
You tensed up, blushing even more.
Sky walks around you, keeping his hand on your shoulder. He smirks to himself and keeps walking. If he focuses long enough he thinks he can hear the way your brains fries.
He spins on his heel and tries to fix his face into a less mischievous look. You're completely red, but smiling to yourself.
Ok, yeah- he's not going to get smacked for that. He can live with this.
In fact- he's all for it. Rooting for you, even.
If you like him, then he can die a very happy man.
Part 2
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untoldstar · 6 months
Text
male yandere king x fem! witch reader x male yandere personal secretary Introductory fic
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warnings: no yandere shenanigans here so no warnings really BUT this is an introductory fic the yandere themes will appear in later parts.
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You’re roughly shoved forward by the two guards that chained you and dragged you all the way here in front of The Kings throne.
King Reid.
“This is her?” You keep your eyes averted refusing to look at him in fear you might not hold back your glare and have your eyes gouged out for that. You’ve heard bone chilling stories of how ruthless he can be and you aren’t about to test the truth behind those stories yourself “Yes sir.” A gruff voice sounds beside you “And you’re completely sure it’s her?” He asks his tone pressing “Positively.” You look up to see that he’s already staring at you intensely, his body stiff with anticipation "Hm..,very well then." The corner of his mouth lifts slightly and a glint appears in his eyes. He nods his head to your wrists and in the blink of an eyes the rope is cut off your wrists. You groan as you rub your red wrists, at least he didn't keep you tied up. He suddenly turns his head to the guards "Everyone out at once!" The guards hurry to sweep the room of everyone and following suite shutting the door after them, as the echo of the large wooden door slowly dissipates it dawns on you that you're completely alone now. At his mercy.
He doesn't say anything only rises from his chair and makes his way to a nearby table pouring a drink which you assume is wine based off the crimson color you caught a glimpse of "Care to join me?" You only shake your head when he glances at you "Suit yourself." He grins. Just what is he doing? You've been dragged here like some sack of potatoes, wrists bound, questions ignored, not an explanation spared and yet he's leisurely enjoying a glass of wine?
"I've heard much about you." He plops down on his seat with a sigh. You stay quite simply watching his movements "The infamous witch.." He swirls the liquid in his cups as he stares at you almost spacing out. You quirk a brow. Infamous? Since when? "You might not realize it but you've caused quite the stir." He hums raising the glass to his lips " I hear people have been desperately crawling to your doorstep to give them a glimpse of the future that awaits them, pleas to make them rich overnight, many people willing to pay you a fortune just so their unrequited love can be returned. What is it that you do, potions?" You internally roll your eyes, of course he'd assume that "Spells." You answer keeping your voice even "Ah of course, my apologies, that was quite the childish assumption." Your tense shoulders relax a little you see he wasn't mocking. He's actually embarrassed if his averted gaze is anything to go by "That's alright..it's a common misconception." You try to comfort "Is it really?" You nod "You'd be surprised to know some of the people who come to me also think that." He hums "Is that so? very well then." He seems pleased to see you talking more and letting your guard down even if only a little "Well anyhow, I'm sure you're wondering why you're here" He sets his glass aside and shifts in his seat "I've been..watching you and I think you could be of great help to me and my kingdom." You cross your arms "What would a king want with a witch?" He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped infront of him "I do admit it's not..usual for a king to seek out a witch but that's precisely why I'm doing this. I believe that with you're help this kingdom can flourish" His eyes gleam and you understand why. You can already think of many ways that could be accomplished but what exactly are his plans? "How exactly would that be achieved?" He seems relieved you're not immediately against the idea "Well, in so many ways of course. You would provide me a level of protection my own guards can't give me, you can help me persuade allies, keep away enemies and false allies who seek the fall of my kingdom." You're face shows no emotions as he rambles on passionately, his ideas aren't bad but you don't want to stroke a kings already inflated ego "We can do so much together.." He suddenly rises up and walks towards you "Don't you think so?" He whispers, his body so close to you, eyes pleading and you're almost in disbelief at how a king is the one persuading you and looking at you with such pleading eyes. "Yes that could all work..But why would I do this? Forgive me your majesty but..what exactly are you offering me?" He smirks, thankfully not seeming to be offended by your question. His prideful demeanor returning once again "Why, everything, my dear. You will live here with me in the castle, your room will be right by my quarters, anything you ask shall be granted, I'll personally make sure of it. It will be a completely new way of living. All will be yours as long as you say yes." You don't give an answer. Nothing is stopping you, you live alone, up till now work has been your focus and this..is work. But is he truly to be trusted?
"..I-" You flinch when he suddenly places his hands on your shoulders rubbing them, he must have sensed your tension "Why don't you take a tour of the castle and think very carefully of my offer? perhaps that could help you arrive to a judgment" Your stomach clenches when his eyes darken and his tone turns warning "You'll find that taking me up on my very generous offer will turn out to be in your favor." Something is defiantly wrong with him but perhaps it's best to be polite and go along with the tour for now at least. You slowly nod "Alright.." He beams "Excellent!" He turns around and rings a bell that's by his throne and Immediately you hear the large wooden doors behind you open. You look behind you to see a man enter, the distance between you doesn't allow you to discern his features fully or any other details except for his raven colored hair and the fact that he's close to your age if not the same if his voice and build is any indication. He bows his head "You called me, your majesty." You feel Reid place his hand on your lower back "Yes." He turns to you smiling "That's Marcus, he's my personal secretary, he'll be the one to accompany you on the tour." You knit your brows "It won't be you?" He lets out a low chuckle "No, my dear, I'm afraid I have a few pressing matter I must take care of but I'm quite flattered you were hoping to spend more time in my company." He ends in a teasing tone. Ugh, anything you say will be taken as flattery with him won't it?"
"Alright enough of that now, Marcus can take it from here. I shall see you after the tour." He nods at you, his smile a little strained now, he truly does hope you will come to the decision of staying afterwards. It would really be disappointing if you don't, your room is ready and your closet is filled with clothes designed specifically for you, he doesn't want his preparations to go to waste.
He also doesn't want to take certain measures into making you stay.
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roosterforme · 1 year
Text
Batting Practice Part 13 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You don't show up to the game the next day, and Bradley has to face Molly's wrath when she comes in your place. His heart is broken as he feels the consequences of his words, but he finally realizes just how much you and Everett mean to him. Then he sees you at Everett's Career Day, but you're not making it easy on him.
Warnings: Angst, swearing
Length: 5300 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.
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Bradley sat up most of the night in his sad apartment, sipping on a bottle of bourbon and feeling like a prize asshole. He had finally found a woman he thought he could settle down with, thought the three of you could maybe be a family, but he managed to fuck all of it up before you were even properly dating him.
This was just so on brand for him, it was laughable. Every bad decision that could be made about women, well he made them. He just had to go spouting off for weeks on end that he didn't date moms with baggage, and now Jake had made everything blow up in his face. 
The problem was, Bradley actually had said all of that shit, but that was before he really got to know you and Everett. It made him sick now to think about the implications of what he had said. 
You hated him now. He knew you must. He had managed to hurt your feelings so deeply, he didn't know if you would ever look at him again. But the truth was, Bradley was the one with all the baggage. He was the one who didn't know how to make the right decisions. He was the one who made everything too complicated. Not you. Not Everett. The two of you were perfect. And he thought for a moment that he could have you. But now he knew he had been wrong again.
And there was no doubt in his mind that Carole Bradshaw would be so disappointed in him right now. Because she would have reacted the same way that you had. She would have stood up for her only son and protected him no matter what.
He groaned as he got to his feet, swaying as he set down his half empty bottle of alcohol on the kitchen counter. He needed to get it together and make it to the tee ball game in six hours. 
You would be there! He could try to talk to you then. Unless you kept Everett home instead. Bradley felt like crying, so he just dragged himself to his bed and passed out with his uniform pants still on.
Bradley's alarm barely woke him up as he dragged his sandpaper tongue across his teeth and moaned. His head was throbbing, but he managed to get up and get right in the shower at the prospect of seeing you. He didn't have time to shave or eat, but he did make it to the ballfield early, just in case.
"You look like shit," Bob told him, and his expression was something akin to disappointment.
Bradley closed his eyes briefly. "I feel worse. Promise."
"Did you talk to her?" Bob asked. Bradley wasn't exactly sure how much everyone knew. He hadn't stayed at the bar for very long after you left, preferring to drink at home alone. Chalk that up to another poor decision made. 
"She doesn't want to talk to me. I'm such an idiot."
Bob just kind of shrugged as he set things up for their game against the Tiny Blue Jays. "Molly is angry, too," Bob informed him. "She's barely texted me back since yesterday." 
Now Bradley felt even worse, because Bob's relationship with your sister shouldn't have to be the collateral damage of his word vomit. "I'm so sorry."
"I'll figure it out," Bob mumbled. "And you need to apologize to Team Mom until she forgives you. Did you tell her that you said all of that stuff a long time ago? You barely even knew her then."
"Yeah, but I still said it," Bradley replied, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. "And between the slap to my face and the valid points she was yelling at me, I didn't get a chance to try to explain myself. But she's not going to want to hear it anyway."
Then Bradley's heart was skipping erratically in his chest, making his head throb more. When he saw Everett in his blue uniform, he squinted against the sunlight and almost took off running. But it wasn't you. It was Molly. And she looked pissed as hell. 
"I'll be right back," Bob mumbled and headed for her instead. Which was fine with Bradley, because now something much worse was happening. Everett was bounding toward him, and he didn't know how he was supposed to react. He just braced himself for the pain.
"Hi, Coach Bradley! See? I remembered to call you Coach Bradley instead of just Bradley since it's a tee ball day. When can we go back to the park again?"
Bradley wanted to cry. "Hey, kiddo. I missed you all week when I was away." And that was the honest truth. 
Everett just shrugged. "Practice was still fun, because my mom made it funny. And we won our last game, even though you weren't there. Do you think you can still win Coach of the Year if you missed a game?"
Bradley reached for Everett and pulled him in for a brief hug while Molly glared at him right past Bob's elbow. 
"Where's your mom, kiddo? Is she coming?"
Everett shook his head. "No, she was crying this morning, even though she didn't want me to know it. She does that sometimes, but it's usually only right after we see my dad."
Fuck. Bradley made you cry as hard as Danny did. Just when he thought he couldn't possibly feel worse, the honest words from a first grader twisted the knife a little deeper. Bradley had assured you that he was better than both Frank and Danny, but he was actually the worst one of the bunch. 
"You want me to help you with your cleats?" Bradley asked, and soon he was changing Everett's shoes while Molly kissed Bob on the cheek. He felt a tiny bit better that maybe he didn't fuck things up for Bob as well as himself. But then Everett said something that made him want to drink another bottle of bourbon and pass out. 
"Coach Bradley, are you still excited for the Phillies game next weekend?"
Bradley froze with the laces halfway tired on Everett's right shoe. He swallowed hard; in all of his fucking up, Bradley had forgotten about the upcoming game. He was going to have to disappoint Everett, because there was no way you would let him take your son to the game now. 
But he didn't know what to say other than, "So excited, kiddo." Then he sent Everett to start warming up while he pulled out his phone and tried to call you again. Voicemail. A second time. Voicemail. He'd left you so many messages already, but he decided to leave another one.
"Kitten. I'm sorry. I miss you. Please, Kitten. Please, call me back."
Bradley was surprised the Tiny Eagles managed to win the game. He was having such a hard time focusing as Molly's glare was burning a hole in his back. But every time he turned toward her, she was looking elsewhere. When the game ended, he took off in her direction, leaving Bob to clean everything up. 
"Where is she? Is she okay? Is she at home?" he asked Molly, who was finally looking directly at him as she stood up. 
"That's none of your business," she said, and Bradley knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with her, but he was going to try anyway.
"Molly, listen, I fucked up. I said that shit before I really knew her. Before I really knew what I wanted."
She crossed her arms over her chest, and the look on her face had Bradley taking a step backwards. "You called Everett baggage," she hissed as her eyes flashed. And if her sister was a Kitten, then Molly was a feral street cat that desperately wanted to give Bradley rabies. 
"Please, I'm begging you. Will you talk to her for me? Ask her to call me back?"
Molly's harsh laugh had him feeling hopeless. "She doesn't owe you anything, and neither do I. She's not your girlfriend. And now she's never going to be your girlfriend."
"Molly! What do I have to do to get her to talk to me?" Bradley asked, ready to beg on his knees for the chance to explain himself. "I made a mistake. But I care about her. And Ev."
Molly shook her head sadly at him. "Even Frank wasn't this bad. At least he didn't mind that she has a son. Who, by the way, is the sweetest child in existence." Now Molly looked like she was going to cry.
Bradley took his hat off and balled it up in his hands. He realized he probably looked insane right now, but he just needed to know how to get you to listen. "I can explain myself to her. I'll beg her to listen to me. I'll bring more flowers and more baseball cards for Ev. I'll-"
Molly cut him off with a jab of her index finger to his chest. "You can bring all the flowers and cards you want, but that doesn't change the fact that you're not good enough for her. You're not good enough for them!"
His voice was soft now, because he knew she was right. "Molly, please help me talk to her."
"You know, she wants to pull Ev from the team," Molly replied, picking up his gear bag as he ran over. Bradley felt sick; he wouldn't get to see you or Everett anymore. "The only reason she's not going to pull him is because of the friends he's made, and because she's a better person than you. But she thought about it. I hope you know you hurt her that bad."
Everett plopped down on the bench, and Bradley watched Molly instantly switch modes and turn into the loving aunt that she normally was. He really was bringing out the worst in everyone right now. 
When Everett was all ready to leave, and he and Molly were heading for her car, Bradley jogged up next to him. "Kiddo? Can you tell your mom something for me?"
"Sure, Coach," he replied, smiling up at Bradley like he always did. 
Molly was staring daggers at him again as he said, "Tell her I was wrong before, but now I have my priorities straight."
"Come on, Ev," Molly told him, taking him by the hand and pulling him along. "We need to go."
Bradley knew he wasn't like Danny or Frank, and he just needed an opportunity to prove it. But he didn't want to upset Everett who was looking back at him with wide eyes. "Tell her I miss her, and I can't wait to see her next time! Bye, Kiddo!"
"Bye, Coach!"
-------------------------------
Luckily Molly was working overnight tonight and offered to take Everett to his game, because you were in no way ready to see Bradley today. Your heart was actually broken, and you were just so embarrassed. 
Your kid's hot tee ball coach. Could you possibly be any more predictable? Any more of a chiche?
You were still in your pajamas forcing down some toast when Molly brought Everett back home around noon. "We ate lunch," she told you. "Everett wanted the baseball Happy Meal toy."
"Thanks," you mumbled, knowing that your little sister who spent the night holding your hand wouldn't judge you for looking like a mess right now.
"Mommy, are you sick today?" Ev asked, and your heart sank.
"Yeah, Ev. I'm not feeling great."
He set his Happy Meal toy down and started taking off his shoes. "I know what will make you feel better! Coach said he missed you! And he can't wait to see you next time. And that he has his prior tires straight."
Molly sighed and shook her head. "He means priorities."
"Yeah. Priorities," Everett said, agreeing with her. 
You felt like crying all over again, and now your phone was vibrating with another call from him. You ignored it as Molly told Everett to grab a snack and eat it out on the back deck. Once he was out of earshot, you told your sister, "He keeps calling and texting me. I don't understand why he cares so much, since I'm clearly a joke to him and all of his friends."
Molly sprawled out on your couch. "He actually seems upset, and I am telling you that begrudgingly, because I want to hate him."
You twisted your fingers together, afraid to know, but you asked anyway. "Did he say anything to you?" 
"Yeah," Molly said with a laugh. "Plenty. He begged me to get you to talk to him. I honestly thought he was going to plead on his knees. He said he made a mistake, and he doesn't feel that way now at all."
Oh. Well that was interesting. Your phone vibrated again. 
"And Bob said Bradley is an idiot, but he didn't think he was actually trying to hurt you," Molly added. "Of course I also asked Bob if he knew that Bradley felt like kids were baggage and moms were a waste of time."
"What did he say?" you whispered, setting your phone down before you caved and answered it.
"Bob said he would find it hard to believe that Bradley actually felt that way now, based on how much he loves you and Everett. He used those words, not me."
Your heart was pounding as your doorbell rang, and Molly sprang up to answer it. "Oh, shit," Molly mumbled as she carried several huge bouquets of colorful flowers into the kitchen.
As you opened the card attached to the first one you picked up, your eyes went wide. All of the cards said the same thing, written in Bradley's handwriting. 
I'm so sorry, Kitten. You and Everett are NOT baggage. You're perfect. I didn't mean it. Please, talk to me.
"Well, you don't need all of these flowers, so I'm taking some to my apartment," Molly said, kissing your cheek as she scooped up a few bouquets. "I'll come by in the morning after work."
And then she was gone, and you were sitting inside a massive floral display with very mixed emotions. 
-----------------------------
Bradley went home and drank the rest of Saturday away until he was asleep. If Molly wasn't willing to help him, and he could understand why she wasn't, then he would have to figure this out on his own. Because at this point, he didn't know what he was going to do without you and Everett. He needed you. He needed to fix this. 
On Sunday morning, he took a shower and got himself cleaned up. Two days of looking like a disaster was enough, so he dumped the rest of the bourbon down the drain as well. Then he grabbed the one thing he needed and drove to your house, nervous as hell that you wouldn't answer the door for him even if you were home.
He parked behind Molly's car and sighed. She was acting as your bodyguard right now, that's how badly he had fucked up. Either you or Molly didn't want you to be left alone. He climbed out of his Bronco with the binder tucked under his arm, and he made his way up to your front porch.
Before he could even knock, the door swung open to reveal an exhausted looking Molly in wrinkled scrubs holding a cup of coffee. "What do you want now?" she asked, and Bradley stood back far enough that she would probably miss him if she tossed the coffee. 
"Will you please tell her I'm here?"
"She's not home," Molly replied coolly. 
"Her car is in the driveway," he replied.
Molly sighed. "She's soaking in the tub, and she doesn't want to talk to you."
Bradley ran his hand over his face, unsure how much he should push. But then Everett came bounding out onto the porch and into Bradley's arms.
"Coach! I mean Bradley! What are you doing here? The Phillies game isn't until next Sunday! And Career Day isn't until Wednesday!"
Bradley's heart clenched with need. If he couldn't take Everett to the Phillies game, he didn't know what he would do. The kid would be crushed, and truthfully, so would he. 
He knelt on the porch and held up the binder. "I just came by to give you this," Bradley told him, really examining his face. He looked so much like you. He could see some of Danny there as well, but there was no denying that Everett took after his mom. 
"What is it?" Everett asked, but when he opened it and saw the plastic pages filled with baseball cards, his eyes went wide. "No way! Are these for me?"
"Yep. All yours, kiddo." Bradley had grabbed one of his binders at random, and probably just handed a six year old a collection worth a thousand dollars. But he didn't care. It didn't matter. Bradley swallowed hard and glanced at Molly before he asked Everett, "How's your mom?"
Everett just shrugged while he looked at the baseball cards. "She said she doesn't feel good. Something must be hurting her, because she keeps crying sometimes."
Bradley let the feeling of dread wash over him as Molly sipped her coffee. "Do you think she would let me take you to the park and pitch some balls?" he asked. But before Everett could even get excited, Molly cut him off.
"Not today, Ev. Remember, I'm taking you to the movies after lunch."
Bradley pressed his lips together and patted Everett on the shoulder as he stood up. "Another day, then."
When Bradley pulled away from the curb, Everett was waving to him while holding the baseball card binder, and Molly was standing behind her nephew, flipping Bradley the middle finger. 
---------------------------------
On Monday, Bradley flew like shit. He couldn't pay attention, and he was honestly a little nervous that someone was going to get hurt. 
"What the fuck was that?" Nat asked him once they were back on the tarmac. "I'm team leader! You need to listen to me!"
"I'm sorry," he told her. "You're absolutely right. I'm just distracted today."
"If this is about your Team Mom, you need to leave it on the ground." Nat was seething, and she had every right to be. "I know Jake blew your cover, but I tried to tell you from the start that if you were interested in her, you needed to get used to the fact that she has a kid!"
Now Bradley was seething too, because nobody seemed to want to listen to his side of things. "I am used to it, Nat! I got used to it real quick! And I wouldn't want it any other way!"
"Then sort your shit out or leave it on the ground!" She stormed away from him without another word. 
Then Bradley saw Maverick strolling his way and he tightened his grip on his helmet. "Listen, Bradley. I don't know what the hell happened to you in Lemoore or what your weekend was like, but you can't be flying like that. It's a liability. I'm grounding you for the week."
"What the fuck, Mav!"
But he just held up his hand. "There's no point in arguing with me. The Admirals don't want you in the air for a few days." Then he turned and headed back to the tower leaving Bradley alone in the bright sunlight. 
---------------------------
You skipped practice on Monday. It had been three days since Bradley had seen you, and the only thing holding his heart together was the fact that Everett was still happy to see him. 
"Hi, Coach Bradley!" he called with a wave as he ran ahead of Molly. 
When Bradley headed toward the bleachers to help him change his cleats, Bob grabbed him by the shoulder to stop him. "Hey, I'd steer clear of Molly if I were you. She's not your biggest fan at the moment." At least Bob's face looked sympathetic. 
"Yeah, I noticed."
Bob just kind of shrugged. "I took her out for dinner last night, and I tried my best to let her know you're not going to hurt her sister."
"Thanks," Bradley muttered. At least there was one person who didn't think he was horrible. 
Molly stood to the side and let Bradley tie Everett's cleats while he rambled on about how excited he was for Career Day. When he paused to take a breath, Bradley asked, "How's your mom, kiddo? She feeling better?"
"She's at a work meeting with someone named Frank," Everett replied, putting his Phillies cap on backwards to match with Bradley. He didn't like hearing that you were with Frank, potentially alone. But then Everett added, "She's still sad, too. She took my stuffed Phanatic to sleep with it. I think she remembered that you said it was good for if you're having a hard time."
Bradley closed his eyes for a beat. "You should go start warming up," he whispered, and Everett was off like a rocket running toward Bob. 
"She did give me a message for you," Molly told him as she sat on the bleachers and blew a kiss to Bob, who immediately started blushing. 
"What did she say?" he asked, preparing himself to beg her. 
"She wants you to stop sending flowers. I took some home, and she donated the rest to a nursing home. She said if you can't seem to stop, you can just send them directly to Bright Senior Living so she doesn't have to drive them there herself."
"Fuck," he growled, dropping down on the bench next to her and burying his face in his hands. He sat there for a bit as Bob started practice without him. He was so far out of his element. He had never chased a woman before in his life. He never saw the point in it until now. If he could figure out what to do, he would do it immediately. 
"You actually care about her?" Molly asked softly, and Bradley turned to look at her. 
"Not just her. Everett too. I can't get enough of either of them." His eyes were stinging as he watched Everett round the bases. 
"Then why did you call him baggage?"
Bradley stared at the turf. "Because I was terrified of falling for someone who was outside of my wheelhouse. Someone with more substance. Someone who would make it impossible to stop thinking about them." He stood, realizing it was time to go help Bob. "I'm an idiot. Truly, Molly, I do understand that. But I said all of that shit weeks and weeks ago, when I was just starting to realize that your sister meant something to me."
Molly nodded at him, and just as he was turning to head toward home plate, she said, "Then show her you care about them. And tell her what you told me. I'll let her know I can't bring Ev to practice on Thursday. And I'm pretty sure you're still on the roster for Career Day on Wednesday."
Bradley's heartbeat was speeding up. He felt more alive than he had since he was with you at the Hard Deck. "Thanks, Molly."
"Don't thank me. I'm still pissed at you. I just want my sister and nephew to be happy."
---------------------------
You left work at lunchtime on Wednesday and headed to Everett's school. When you planned out a five minute presentation for his class, you realized he was right: you did have a boring job. How you were supposed to make accounting interesting for a bunch of six and seven year olds was beyond you. It also didn't help that you were having the shittiest week ever. 
Not only were you missing Bradley and trying to get over him, you had been forced to stay late and work with Frank on Monday. Well, he had volunteered to stay late when he heard you were going to. And now you couldn't even lie to him and say you were seeing Bradley to get him off your back. 
With a deep sigh, you opened your car door and headed across the parking lot in your suit and high heels, the hot sun making you uncomfortable in your long sleeves. 
And then you heard his voice in person for the first time since Friday night. "Kitten."
You turned to see Bradley walking up the sidewalk in his flight suit, boots, and aviators looking impossibly handsome. You had been listening to his voicemail apologies last night, but the way he sounded in person made your spine tingle with need. 
You tamped it down. "What are you doing here?" you asked, not bothering to look at him as he caught up to you.
He was silent for a beat. "Everett invited me."
You scoffed. "Well, I'm uninviting you."
"Kitten. Please."
"No," you said sternly. "Why even bother if he's just my excess baggage?"
Bradley stopped walking, and when you turned to look at him, he had the same expression he had worn after you slapped him across his cheek. "He's not," Bradley rasped. "He's perfect. And so are you. And I don't want to make him upset if I don't show up."
You rolled your eyes. "Come on." He followed you like your shadow, his warmth at your back. You thought maybe he was going to touch you when you signed both of them in at the office and got name tags. It seemed like he wanted to, like maybe he was holding back. And as much as you wanted to scream in his face, your body was betraying you by craving his touch.
"This way," you told him, and when you entered Everett's classroom with Bradley next to you, your son's eyes lit up. He waved at both of you from his seat, and you had to plaster on a smile. Before giving it too much thought, you grabbed one of the empty seats between two other parents, leaving Bradley to fend for himself. 
You sat politely and listened to Harper's mom talk about neurosurgery. Then Peyton's dad talked about construction equipment. You gave everyone your full attention, firmly ignoring Bradley. You didn't even look at him once while you stood in front of the class and talked about how important math is. 
Once you were finished, you kissed Everett's forehead before you returned to your seat. But then it was Bradley's turn, and you couldn't help but look at him.
"Hi, I'm Lieutenant Bradshaw, and Everett invited me here to talk about flying jets called Super Hornets." Every pair of eyes was glued to him as he gave a riveting presentation. Everett was practically vibrating with excitement at his desk, clearly so proud to have brought the most interesting adult to Career Day. You also noted that every woman was drooling over Bradley, including Everett's teacher. 
It was crazy to think that for a short time, you thought he was going to be yours. 
When everyone was done speaking, you popped out of your seat and told Everett you'd pick him up in a few hours, and then you were making a beeline for the door. You could hear Bradley calling your name, but you just kept going all the way to your car. 
"Kitten, please!" He was right behind you now, and you saw his big hand shoot past your shoulder and hold your door firmly closed. "Can we talk?"
You turned to face him, and you were taken back to every single time he had walked you and Everett to your car after tee ball practice. 
"About what?" you whispered. He had caught you off guard. You meant to start yelling, but all of the warm feelings he gave you were right there at the surface.
His eyes went a little wide as his lips parted, seemingly surprised you weren't shouting at him. "I'm sorry, Kitten. I fucked up. I should have never said those things, because I didn't even mean them."
You couldn't meet his eyes as you asked him, "Why did you say that to your friends? I feel humiliated. I feel like you think Everett and I are a joke."
"No!" he said, keeping his hand against the door and leaning a little closer to you. "You're not. And he's not. I said that so long ago, because I was instantly attracted to you, Kitten. And that terrified me."
You felt the fight draining out of you, and you knew you needed to get in your car and leave before he saw you crying. But instead you said, "Maybe you're right though. We're a lot to handle. I shouldn't have expected things to be easy."
When you turned and tried to open your door, Bradley held it shut. "Will you look at me?" You glanced at him over your shoulder as you felt tears stinging your eyes. "You and Everett are not a lot to handle. You're the perfect amount. Being around both of you makes me feel so good, Kitten." 
You swallowed hard and shook your head. "Thanks for coming today, I guess. It made him happy."
He let go of the door and ran his thumb across your jaw. "I don't think I would be able to live with myself if I made him cry."
You nodded and ducked away from his hand. "I'll figure it out. Make it so that this doesn't break his heart."
"Don't say that, Kitten. I still want to take him to the Phillies game on Sunday. I want all three of us to go," he whispered as you turned your back fully to him again. 
"I don't think that's a good idea."
You could feel his frustration rolling off of him, and his voice sounded panicked. "Where does that leave us, Kitten? Do I even stand a chance now?"
"I don't know. I need to get back to work. Bye, Coach."
This time he let you open the door, and he closed it softly once you were inside. When you pulled away, he just stood in the parking spot watching you. 
--------------------------
Bradley ended up at the Hard Deck after Career Day at Everett's school. He was grounded from flying, you'd just told him you didn't know where he stood with you, and he was probably going to make Everett cry at some point this week.
He ran his hands over his face and nursed a beer for a while. When Nat and Jake showed up, eyeing him cautiously, he thought it would be to his advantage to just head home. He handed Penny some cash, but Nat rubbed his shoulder. 
"I'm sorry I screamed at you on Monday."
"I deserved it," Bradley replied. "I wasn't being safe."
"You look fucking miserable," Jake drawled, leaning on the bar next to Bradley.
"You're literally the last person I want to talk to right now," Bradley replied through gritted teeth. "Thanks for Friday night."
Jake just shook his head. "Hey, I was just trying to get in her pants, okay? She's gorgeous, and you made it pretty clear the last time we talked about her that you were not interested."
Bradley couldn't even get mad, because Jake was actually right. "Well I'm pretty fucking interested in her now, okay? Stay out of her pants."
Jake just grinned. "I think I know what might help."
"This sounds suspicious," Bradley muttered, eyeing Jake cautiously. "Let's hear it."
"You still planning on going to that Padres game this weekend?"
"I don't know," Bradley groaned, pushing his fingers through his hair in frustration. 
"Well," Jake said as he signalled Penny for a drink. "My landlord's son is the head groundskeeper at Petco Park. I can try to pull some strings if you think it will help."
Bradley gaped at him. "Do it."
---------------------------
Molly is the sister I wish I had! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!
PART 14
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@swthxrry
@chassy21
@yaboid19
@solacestyles
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@daisyhollyxox
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@bcon24
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@katiebby04
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Note
Are you requests open yet, right?
Can you make something with Fenrys, like, him and reader are mates, and they are trying to get a child for so long, and one day they discover that they are expecting.
(I really liked your writing, and very few people write about him, so I wanted to thank you for this 💕)
Had a blast writing this truly. Thank you for requesting and the kind words, I hope you'll enjoy it. 🤍✨
Little pup
At first, you didn't talk about it. You both were still young and for the most part, had wanted to explore the world together. Just you two. Try new things. See new places. Travel. Indulge in each other's company. And the mating frenzy hit you so hard that you didn't leave your house for over a month. And by then you were convinced that everyone passing by could smell the sex lingering all around.
And yet even in that month, it wasn't about getting pregnant. Fenrys was learning how to please you and you were doing the same. It was the desire to explore that drove you. To bring each other immense pleasure. Till the last breaking point. Till the moment all you could see was stars. Till furniture was breaking. But the thought of conceiving never crossed your mind.
But it's the first time your period is late and you're feeling so weird that Aelin had to drag you to the healer's level. It's the joyful smile on the woman's face when she says, "Oh you might as well be pregnant", that breaks this bubble of cold water over your head. "How exciting would that be? Babies are so rare and to have one ahh...", the healer beams as she ushers you to lay down. You reach for Aelin's hand almost instantly. The nerve suddenly so uneasy in your chest.
And then the healer's face drops and so does your heart. Sadness washes over you and it's like you had lost something you didn't even think you wanted five minutes ago. "You started your circle, darling", she says lowering your skirt down and you just want to crawl into yourself. "Ah, yes", you quickly move to get down the table. Glad your back is to the two women as you quickly wipe your tears. Suddenly feeling so frustrated. You feel Fenrys tugging on the bond yet that only makes your heart ache more so you push him out of your head quickly. Drowsing the bond in complete darkness.
Fenrys comes home way earlier than he should have been there. And you know it's because he would always drop anything for you. High stake leaders waiting for the meeting? Fuck them! His mate needs him so he's leaving and gods save the souls who try to stand in his way.
He knows by the silence that something had happened. Something that upset you. Ticked you over. Then Fenrys smells the blood. Gears turning before he realizes that your cycle had finally shown up but why the sense of sorrow then? This feeling of pain makes him rub his chest as he too tries to soothe the aching.
"My, love", Fenrys shrugs his cloak off carelessly, stepping closer to the bed. You're completely submerged by the furs all over your body. He makes a quick work of pushing them to the side until your wet cheeks come into sight and Fenry's heart drop even more. "Love", he breathes out in worry. But that only makes your tears well up more. A choked-out sob leaves your lips before you move to push away from your mate. That jabs Fenry's heart too.
"Love, if you don't tell me what's going on...", and then this shien of anger washes over you. Painting your cheeks in even more crimson shades. "Talk to you? Talk about what, huh?", you leap at him, fist coming in contact with Fenrys's strong chest.
But then you draw your hands back, looking at them with so much disgust. Fenrys steps in quickly taking your smaller palms into his. Your mind was too chaotic for him to read now. So he had to trust you to let him in on your own time. "What is going on...", you mutter, "You're overwhelmed and your body is full of hormones", even Fenrys frown at his own words but that's the truth in a way. The question still stands though. What caused all of this? "I thought I was...", you breathe through the sobs, "Thought we had...", and then it's full-on sobs, till your legs give out and Fenrys quickly wraps you up in his arms, rocking you from time to time.
There's no way to tell how long you've been crying by the time you're only sniffling. Eyes puffy and red, holding onto Fenrys for dear life. And he had run out of comforting words by then, opting for silence and love that he poured through the bond. You push away from him slightly. Knowing full well that you owe him an explanation. Because he too would have been a part of this if you had been pregnant. Your eyes well up with tears once more as you glance at him and Fenrys is ready to cradle you once more but you stop him. "I saw a healer this morning. She thought that I might...", you swallow the lump in your throat, shoulders sagging, "might be... pregnant". Fenrys's heart jumps up his throat. Suddenly he's almost hyper-aware of his surroundings. Threats. Smells. Sounds. But then nothing. And then just like before it all falls into place.
This. All of this was because you weren't. Because there wasn't a babe growing in your womb. No little Fenrys, or Y/N. And it's almost like another slap to his face because he only now realizes that you never really talked about it. Becoming parents. Growing your family. Being together and having one another was comforting enough. But seeing you like this. "I'm sorry...", you whisper and Fenrys draws his gaze back to you. "What for love? There's nothing to be sorry for", he brushes your loose hair away from your face.
"For not being pregnant", Fenrys frown at your words. And frowns so deep that his eyebrows nearly come together. "Now you take that back", his hands cup your face, "You take that back and never dare to apologize for something like this".
And you know that it comes from his heart because he loves you. Because no matter what you do he will always be there. "What if I can't?", you ask him, biting your lip, "Then we won't have any and that will be more than enough because we would have one another", he's quick to reassure you. And once more from the way his eyes are gleaming you know that he means it. "Come here", he mutters m, bringing you back into his arms, and wrapping it up in the comfort of his warmth. Drowning out the world around you.
All of this leads to a long conversation about children. One that you share late at night, both tangled between the sheets. Let the stars and the moon be the only witnesses of your wishes and dreams. And you both know that's so rare. And something that many couples don't even get close to. Fenrys knows how he and his brother Connall had come pretty late into their parent's lives. But then what a blessing it was to have two babies. Yet the time span was what scared him the most. Not because he was desperate. Don't get him wrong he wanted to see you pregnant. Know that it's his baby growing within you. But he could tell how fragile this topic made you. How you would shiver any time someone brought up the conversation of babies. How you would halt at the sight of younglings running around in the streets. How you forced a smile once Ellide got pregnant and you had brushed away your sad tears saying that it was only happy crying.
And it's only a handful of years later. Many disappointing visits to the healers later that you jolt up in the morning rushing to the bathroom. Fenrys is out of bed just as fast, darting after you and reaching to hold your hair out of your face as you emptied your stomach into the toilet. His hands rub comforting circles over your back. Your skin looks clammy and pale and it makes Fenrys sick to his stomach as well.
Because what if all the sorrows had finally eaten you from within in? What if he had missed something? Overlooked you not eating well, not sleeping enough. Your head drops to the side, and Fenrys quickly turns you over, reaching for the tap before flickering water over your face. If an illness claimed your life... if he would be left alone...it's a selfish thought but one that has been his number one fear ever since he saw you for the very first time.
"I'm fine", you groggily say and Fenrys only huffs, "Fine my ass, you're barely conscious". Those are harsher words than he wishes that thrown your way but he's so worried. So worried his own eyes are blurry. Then he moves up quickly, you tightly pressed to his chest. "Fen, I just need to lay down", but he doesn't listen as he throws the door open. Not caring that he's shirtless, or that you are only wearing one of his shirts. He rushes down the hallway, yet he's still mindful of not shaking you too much.
The healers haven't even finished their morning preparations when he storms in, eyes wild. The healer who had been tending to you for years now jumps up instantly. "I don't know what's happening", Fenrys admits as he lowers you onto the bed. The lady presses her palm onto your forehead before cradling your cheek. "Y/N, what's hurting?", she asks softly but you only shake your head. Her mouth falls into a tight frown and she orders a couple of other healers around, turning to Fenrys so he would tell her what happened.
"When was the last time you ate, girl?", she asks strictly, fingers running over your stomach. "Breakfast", you breathe out, "yesterday". Fenrys growls in frustration. He had returned home late last night, you had already been asleep and so he never even thought about the fact that he didn't ask anyone on his way up if you had been down to eat dinner. The healer shakes her head, "Silly, silly girl. Mirth, bring the lady some light breakfast and a tart", she says even though you turn to protest. "You're with child and this is all stunt you pulled here is because you didn't eat", every sound in the room dies down. Your eyes grow big and for a moment you're sure you just mistaken her words. Surely not... but it's the way Fenrys is looking at the healer with the same surprised eyes that makes you realize that he heard it too.
"Congratulations you two. A strong heartbeat", she carefully presses her palm to your shoulder. Knowing full well that once the information fully settled in Fenrys's brain anyone that would get near the slight swell in your lower stomach would be marked an enemy. The wolf closes the distance between you two. He doesn't yet trust his words so he just leans in pressing his forehead to yours. And now that it's been brought up you do smell slightly different. And the heartbeat. How did he miss the heartbeat? What kind of father will he be if he missed his child growing inside you?
"The best kind", you mutter, "the best kind of father", your hand cups his cheek, and the white wolf instantly nuzzles closer to you. He kisses the side of your head, brushing the tears from your cheeks. "Our baby", he mumbles, pressing his palm to your stomach, "Our little pup", you put your hand over his. And then Fenrys breaks into fits of giggles as he brings you closer into his arms. You too can't help the smile even if the dizziness still lingers. And you suddenly feel complete as if this was all that was missing. Now the picture would be complete. "A father, my beautiful mate will make me a father", he beams, brushing his lips against yours in a messy kiss, but the door swings open as the younger healer walks in with a trey. The laughter stops and Fenrys is snarling at the door, teeth out. Your hands push against his chest softly, "Darling, she means no harm", you reassure him yet his eyes don't leave the poor girl now shaking by the door. "Thought you seen him protective, girl? Welcome to the next stage", the older healer chuckles as she hands you the sweet bun.
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astrxq · 1 year
Text
a chance for change
ethan landry x fem!reader
words: 6.3k (oops)
notes: not proofread! mentions of blood, kissing? reader gets hurt
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You were going to kill Ethan Landry. If glaring at his stupid, curly hair throughout the lessons wasn't enough, you were going to make sure he didn't step a foot near you ever again. Actually, you were sure your head would explode if you heard his voice one more time.
The second the professor dismissed the class, you made your way out as fast as you could, catching a glimpse of Ethan walking up to the teacher with a notebook in his hands.
"Hey, what's up?" Anika asked, noticing the angry expression on your face the moment you walked out the door. "Ethan's sucking up again," you replied, holding out your bag to put the notes inside. "He kept interrupting me in class, even though he knew I knew the answers. He's doing it on purpose, just to annoy me. I swear I'm going to kill him."
Anika chuckled. "Maybe he likes you." She held out a warm paper cup of tea matching her coffee one. "What? No way, he's just a competitive jerk."
"He's a competitive jerk who has a crush on you." You rolled your eyes for the millionth time that day, brushing off Anika's comment. "Oh please, don't start with that nonsense. Ethan Landry and I are like oil and water. We don't mix."
Anika took a sip of her warm coffee cup, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "You know, sometimes opposites attract. It wouldn't be the first time."
You scoffed, shaking your head. "Not in this case. We're polar opposites in every way possible." Anika raised an eyebrow.
You sighed, realizing that Anika had a point. "That doesn't mean we're meant to be together. Besides, he's always trying to one-up me. It's infuriating!"
Anika grinned, her eyes glinting mischievously again. "Maybe he's just trying to get your attention. Some people show interest by challenging the ones they like. It's like a twisted form of flirting."
You shook your head, unconvinced. "Flirting? That's not how it works. He's just trying to prove he's smarter than me." You crossed your arms, contemplating her words.
Deep down, a part of you wondered if there could be any truth to what Anika was suggesting. The thought of Ethan having a crush on you seemed absurd, considering your constant clashes and heated arguments. But you shook those thoughts away as Chad's frame came into vision, dragging Ethan by his forearm.
At the sight of your friend Chad, your brain sparked with the memory of the ski trip suggestion he and Mindy had made just a few weeks prior. "Shit, Anika," you muttered, "have you packed already?" You wanted to facepalm so badly, only realizing now that you were supposed to be leaving soon. "Yeah, you haven't?" You stayed quiet, answering her question. "You forgot... didn't you?"
"Um, yeah," you admitted sheepishly, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you. "I completely forgot about the ski trip. I've been so caught up with this week's exams and everything that I completely lost track of time."
Anika sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. "We leave tomorrow morning! You normally plan everything ahead of time."
Panic started to set in as you realized the magnitude of your forgetfulness. You quickly retrieved your phone from your bag and checked the time. "You're right, I messed up big time. I need to hurry and pack. Can you help me, Anika? Please?" She tilted her head with a smile and nodded, before letting you hold onto her hand and hurrying to your shared apartment.
From the corner of your eye, you could see Chad and Ethan stopping their tracks, Chad's hand flying to Ethan's shoulder in what seemed like reassurance, and Ethan's face morphing into some kind of sadness. There was a momentary flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of vulnerability that you hadn't expected to see. But he quickly shook it away before furrowing his eyebrows and making his way back to where he and Chad had come from.
While you and Anika hurriedly packed, grabbing any warm clothes you could find and going through the list of essentials Mindy had sent in the group chat, you felt excitement bubble in your chest due to the feeling of pressure being lifted off of your shoulders from the tough week of constant exams and important lectures. Just an hour later, you sat on your suitcase, trying to zip it shut while Anika slept on the couch, having fallen asleep with the TV on.
As you struggled to zip your suitcase shut, your mind kept wandering back to Ethan's expression earlier. But you quickly dismissed it as an irrelevant detail. After all, you had more pressing matters at hand—like making it to the ski trip on time.
You let out a sigh of relief, finally having shut the suitcase after multiple attempts. Glancing at the clock, you realized it was already late into the night. You decided to let Anika rest a bit longer, knowing she would appreciate the extra sleep before the alarm woke her up.
As you settled down on your bed, you couldn't help but replay Anika’s words in your mind. Overthinking Ethan's constant interruptions, your heated arguments, and the possibility of him having a crush on you—these thoughts swirled around in your head like a whirlwind.
Despite your initial resistance to the idea, you couldn't deny the strange way you felt around Ethan. It had to be hate, right?
Lost in your thoughts, you gradually drifted off to sleep, only to be awakened by the sound of your alarm blaring the next morning. Groggily, you rubbed your eyes and stretched before going to wake Anika, who stirred on the couch, slowly waking up as well. "Oh, sorry," she said once she noticed she hadn’t gone to her room to sleep.
With a sense of urgency, you both prepared yourselves for the trip. You headed out the door with your luggage in tow, the adrenaline rush of almost being late momentarily pushing the night before’s thoughts of Ethan to the back of your mind. Mindy was tapping her foot in exhaustion with her arms crossed as Chad leaned on one of the cars, eyes almost shutting down because of the early morning. "We said 6 am! It’s almost twenty past!" Mindy exclaimed once you came into view, dragging your baggage. "Sorry! I had to get changed," Anika apologized, rushing to her girlfriend's side to kiss her cheek and hurrying inside the car in front of her. "We have to take two cars," Chad explained, his thumb pointing at the Carpenter sisters half asleep in the back. "I’ll drive you, Ethan, and Tara. Mindy will go with Anika." You almost huffed at the thought of being in the same car as Ethan, already imagining him cracking bad jokes with Chad or trying to engage in competitive banter. Despite your reservations, you climbed into the car and settled into your seat, bracing yourself for the journey ahead.
As the car pulled out of the driveway, you glanced at the back of Ethan’s head, who was sitting on the front seat next to Chad and in front of you. Ethan's head leaned back against the headrest
-
"Psst," Anika elbowed your arm when she sat next to you with a tray full of food from the hotel's lunchroom. "What happened with Ethan?" You shrugged. "Nothing. You know, the usual arguing and everything." Your attempt at a laugh certainly didn't go past your closest friend. "Really? Because you two are avoiding each other like you're the plague. It's been three days."
"We always do."
"No, you don't. Y/N, you love arguing with him." Your eyes almost popped out of your sockets. "What?" Anika raised an eyebrow at your surprised reaction, as if you were acting crazy. "Come on, Y/N. It's pretty obvious. You two have been at each other's throats for as long as I can remember. It's like a twisted form of entertainment for both of you."
You stared at Anika, trying to process her words. It was true that you and Ethan had always been at odds with each other, constantly bickering and arguing over the smallest things. But the idea that you actually enjoyed it, that it was some sort of twisted entertainment, was something you hadn't considered before.
"I... I never thought of it that way," you admitted, feeling a mix of surprise and confusion. "I mean, sure, we argue a lot, but it's not like I enjoy it or anything. Ethan can be really infuriating."
Anika chuckled softly and nudged your arm. "Oh, come on, Y/N. We've all seen the way you two banter back and forth. You both thrive on that tension, even if you won't admit it."
"But what do I do now?" you asked, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity. "He obviously doesn't want me around anymore." She gave you an apologetic look. "I really messed it up, didn't I?" You pushed your head into your hands.
You looked up at her, searching for some guidance. "He's finally shut me out, and I can't blame him for that."
Anika nodded understandingly. "Give him some space for now. It's clear that he's hurt and needs time to process everything. But when the time is right, try reaching out to him again, genuinely. Apologize for your part in the constant arguing and let him know that you want to change the dynamic between you two."
You sighed, realizing that it wouldn't be easy. "What if he doesn't believe me? What if he just brushes me off?"
"You're getting in your head. Don't worry about that now." The conversation quickly ended as the rest of the group sat with their food, all dressed in warm clothes. The tension between you and Ethan had become palpable, and it weighed heavily on your mind as you picked at your food. The conversation around the table seemed forced, with everyone aware of the underlying rift.
Anika, sensing your discomfort, leaned in closer to you. "Remember, it's going to take time," she whispered. "But you have to take the first step. Show him that you're serious about changing."
Deep down, you knew that Anika was right. You had to confront your own behavior and make amends if you wanted any chance of salvaging the mess.
Mindy broke the unsettling silence at the table by offering to take advantage of the few people around and go skiing. Once you reached the top of the hill, Anika helped fix your glasses, pulling you aside, and she reminded you gently. "If he needs space, give it to him, but don't let too much time pass." You nodded, determined to make it work.
Your mind was still consumed with thoughts of Ethan. Anika's words echoed in your ears, urging you to take action, but you couldn't shake off the anxiety that accompanied the idea of reaching out to him. Would he even be willing to listen? Would he give you a chance to explain?
You pushed those doubts aside and focused on the present moment. Remembering Chad's insistent instructions, you tightened your goggles, adjusted your gloves, and launched yourself down the slope, the exhilaration of skiing temporarily distracting you from your inner turmoil.
When you finally reached the bottom of the hill, you took a moment to catch your breath and glanced around, hoping to spot Ethan among the skiers. But he was nowhere to be seen. Disappointment crept into your chest, and you tried not to think about him as you followed Tara back to the top of the hill, where Mindy and Anika awaited their turn.
As you prepared for another run down the slope, you couldn't help but steal glances at the empty space beside you where Ethan would usually be. His absence weighed heavily on you, and you realized just how much his presence had become a constant in your life, even if it was marked by arguments and tension.
As you reached the top of the hill, you took a deep breath and tried to clear your mind. Tara called for you, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Y/N, move!" she said. You felt your feet slip away, falling on your back, and a stinging feeling taking over your right leg as you watched the man who had bumped into you slide away, Tara in the distance, struggling to come to a stop.
Pain shot through your leg as you lay on the snowy ground. The fall had caught you off guard, and you winced at the discomfort that radiated from your thigh. Ethan rushed over to your side, concern etched on his face as he stared at the cut on your leg, going through the thick fabric of the pants.
"Are you okay, Y/N? What happened?" he asked, his voice filled with worry. And for a minute, you forgot about your leg, relieved to see that he was finally speaking to you.
You tried to sit up, gritting your teeth against the pain. "I... I'm not sure. Someone crashed into me, and I lost my balance," you replied, glancing around to see if you could spot the person responsible for your fall. But they were nowhere in sight. "It's small," you said when he tried to move the fabric of ripped pants to see the cut.
Ethan frowned, his worry evident as he gently inspected your injured leg. "We should get you back to the cabin. It might need some attention, just in case." He carefully helped you up, allowing you to lean on him for support as you hobbled back toward the cabin.
As you reached the warmth and shelter of the abandoned-looking cabin, Ethan guided you to the nearest couch and looked in the different drawers for a first aid kit. "Ethan," you called, seeing him walk back into the room with what he had been looking for, "I'm sorry," you said, wincing when his fingers accidentally grazed your cut. "Not now, Y/N."
Ethan's voice was firm, but you could sense the underlying tension in his words. He sat down next to you and carefully began cleaning the wound, his touch gentle yet distant. The atmosphere in the cabin felt heavy, the silence between you both almost suffocating. As he applied antiseptic to the cut, you couldn't help but let out a small hiss of pain.
Small taps on the wood caught your attention; Ethan's head turned at the sounds. "Hold this here," he instructed. You placed your fingers over the cotton ball he
 was using to clean up your leg, and he stood, walking to the cabin's door to check outside. "Shit, we're stuck."
"What?" you asked, making an attempt to stand up but sat back down from the pain. "Snowstorm," he explained. You looked at Ethan in disbelief, the gravity of the situation sinking in.
"So, what do we do now?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite panicking a bit.
Ethan quickly closed the door behind him, blocking the chilling wind from entering the cabin. He turned to face you. "We'll have to wait it out. It might take a while for the storm to pass, but we should be safe in here."
-
Here is the corrected text with grammar, punctuation, and vocabulary improvements:
Thinking that the small talk about the snowstorm meant that you and Ethan would be able to have an ongoing conversation was your first mistake. Your second was trying to stand up with a swollen ankle and a small gash on your thigh.
As you winced in pain, struggling to stand up, Ethan rushed to your side, his concern evident in his eyes. "Whoa, hold on. You shouldn't be putting weight on that leg," he said, his voice filled with urgency. Gently, he guided you back to the couch, helping you sit down again.
He attempted to clean the wound again, but the fabric kept getting in the way. Your face felt like it was burning when he tried to rip it slightly so he could see the cut properly, but he soon gave up and sat back. "I can't clean it properly like this."
"Maybe there's a towel or something we can use instead of cotton balls?" he took a deep breath, hands fiddling together. "No, I meant... the pants, they're in the way."
You hesitated for a moment, understanding his suggestion. Slowly, you nodded, realizing that removing your pants would indeed provide better access to the wound. It felt awkward to consider undressing in front of Ethan, given your complicated history, but the situation called for practicality over discomfort.
Swallowing your pride, you mustered up the courage to speak. "You're right." You made a move to stand again, and Ethan quickly held onto your arm, standing up as well so you could lean on him. "Uhm, I'll- I'll look away," he said, almost more to himself than to you.
You managed to untie the string on the pants with only one hand, but you grunted once you struggled to push them down your legs, the pain making you lose balance, but Ethan held onto your arm tighter so you wouldn't fall. "Uh..." you started, "a little help?" You tried to laugh, and Ethan nervously reached for the waistband, clearing his throat before turning his head to the side, trying not to make you uncomfortable.
With his help, you managed to awkwardly slide your pants down your legs, revealing the injured area, and you felt yourself starting to shiver. You could feel your face heating up with embarrassment, but you tried to push past it, focusing on the task at hand while Ethan handed you one of the old blankets that lay on the sofa. "Thank you," you muttered, and Ethan took a seat next to you, his gaze fixated on your leg. The silence between you was palpable, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension. As he cleaned the wound, you couldn't help but steal glances at him, his features etched with a mix of concern and restraint as he focused on doing his best with cleaning up the cut.
The cabin was fully silent, and all you could hear was the storm outside and your own thoughts. Ethan's hands were shaking, not only because it was freezing but because he had no idea what he was doing with the gash. His whole body seemed to be freezing cold; his cheeks and the tip of his nose were rosy from the cold, and his fingertips were very cold against your skin. Even though you felt yourself shiver, your body felt like it was on fire.
"Ethan," you said softly, searching for the right words. "I appreciate you helping me with this. I know it's not an ideal situation, but I'm glad you're here." He stayed silent. "I understand if you're still upset with me," you continued, your voice sincere. "I've been really hard on you, and I want you to know that I'm genuinely sorry."
Ethan kept his eyes on your thigh, finishing up with the cleaning, and he kept quiet. It seemed like he was thinking of what to say, but he didn't speak. The weight of his silence hung in the air, intensifying the unease in your chest. You had hoped for some kind of response, a sign that he was willing to hear you out and perhaps even forgive you.
But as seconds turned into minutes, the silence only grew heavier, suffocating any hope that had started to blossom within you. Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. The pain in your leg was nothing compared to the pain of his silence, the realization that you might have truly pushed him away this time. You reached for your pants, wanting to cover yourself up and hide from the vulnerability of the moment, but your trembling hands struggled to find their way.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ethan's voice broke through the stillness. It was barely above a whisper. "It doesn't matter anymore, Y/N. Words won't change anything."
The weight of his words crashed down upon you, and you couldn't help but let out a choked sob. The guilt, the regret, and the anguished desire for reconciliation overwhelmed you, leaving you feeling small and insignificant. Each tear that escaped your eyes felt like a physical manifestation of your mistakes, a painful reminder of the damage you had caused.
Ethan's gaze finally met yours, his eyes filled with a mix of hurt and weariness. "I've tried to understand why we've always been like this," he said, his voice laced with a touch of bitterness.
"I've spent countless nights replaying our arguments in my head, trying to make sense of it all. But it all goes back to you absolutely hating my guts." His words pierced through your heart, the truth of his pain echoing within you.
You had been so consumed by your own frustrations and anger that you had failed to realize the toll it was taking on both of you. The realization hit you like a wave, crashing against the walls of your own self-righteousness.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling. Ethan shook his head, then nodded, then stilled as if he wasn't too sure of what to do. "I like you so much," he whispered, "but- I don't even know why we've been so mean to each other."
"I just want it to stop; Chad said this trip was my chance to get close to you." He finally met your eyes. "But in the car? I felt like you truly didn't want me around."
You blinked at him, feeling your chest heave, and you choked out, your voice trembling. "I never wanted things to be like this between us. I've let my own insecurities and frustrations get in the way, and I've hurt you in the process. Please believe me when I say that I want to change. I want to make things right."
Ethan's gaze softened as he listened to your words. The weight of his silence began to lift, replaced by a glimmer of hope. "Actions speak louder than words, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with a mix of caution and vulnerability. "I haven't been good to you either," he admitted, hands shaking from the cold.
You weren't sure what it was that made you move closer to him and hold his hands under the blanket that sat over your shoulders, barely giving you enough warmth. "Is it too late?" you asked, "to start over?"
"Of course not, no." His voice was soft, welcoming, and you felt his cold hands squeeze yours
 tighter, pulling at them a bit so you'd come closer. "I don't want us to keep hurting each other," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. A small smile tugged at the corners of Ethan's lips, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth in your chest.
As the storm raged outside, you and Ethan stayed huddled together, seeking comfort and solace in each other's presence. You were curled up against Ethan's chest, holding your ankle in your cold hand while the other held his hand, the cut on your thigh now fully covered by a bandage Ethan had found in the aid kit. He hummed to one of Chad's favorite songs as he played with the ends of your hair and the hem of the blanket that was now covering both of you.
The warmth of his presence and the softness of his humming enveloped you, creating a serene atmosphere that felt like a haven within the storm. Feeling a surge of courage, you lifted your head and met Ethan's gaze. His eyes mirrored your own emotions. "Would it be too soon to kiss you?" he murmured, his voice kind of hoarse from the cold.
A soft smile curved your lips as you leaned in closer, your breath mingling with his in the small space between you. The tension that had plagued you both seemed to dissipate as your lips finally met in a gentle, tender kiss. It was a bittersweet feeling, filled with the weight of past mistakes.
Wrapped in each other's arms, you could feel the warmth seep into your bones, thawing the coldness that had settled within you. The kiss deepened, growing more passionate, as if it carried the unspoken promises of forgiveness, understanding, and a fresh start.
With each lingering kiss, you could sense a newfound trust building between you. The weight of the past began to fade, replaced by a shared determination to rewrite your story together. The world around you faded into oblivion as the kiss deepened, becoming a dance of intertwined souls. Every touch, every movement was an expression of the desire that had blossomed between you.
His hands tangled in your hair, while yours roamed his back, desperate to feel every inch of him, and you found yourself lost in the sensation of his lips, the taste of him on your tongue. It was a perfect blend of passion and tenderness, an unspoken promise of the love and connection yet to come.
Eventually, the need for air became undeniable, and you reluctantly broke the kiss, but not the connection. Your foreheads rested against each other, breaths mingling as you both tried to catch your breath. The intensity of the moment lingered in the air, a tangible reminder of the bond that had formed between you.
Your phones buzzing for the first time in hours caught your attention, untangling yourselves from each other to see hundreds of texts and calls from your friends. Just then, you realized how quickly time went by. It had been about four hours since the snowstorm started, and how the noise outside had gone quiet. You and Ethan were free to leave.
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sharkboywrites · 7 months
Text
"You're Just a Boy, You Are No Man, And Nobody You Know Will Understand"
Twst staff finding out stealth ftm reader is trans (platonic)
Reader is a trans man and implied to pass, misgendering, mentions of dysphoria and periods
A/N: Back with a part two to this post after the poll came out mostly positive. I really love the staff taking on a parental role to Yuu/player, its just so sweet.
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Dire Crowley
Getting teleported to twisted Wonderland was a very difficult experience, and of first the first person you met, and the one causing most of the problems for you, was Crowley. As the headmage of the school, he had to do something with you and generally take care of you. it was only a matter of time before you had to tell him the truth.
This doesn't mean you avoided the inevitable conversation as much you could. You were able to go a few weeks without running into an issue, that being the dreadful natural process that comes once every month.
While you could run to Sam, there was the small issue of the right clothes to wear, after all boxers won't really cut it in this situation, so unfortunately you had to go to Crowley for the right things to wear.
It was definitely an uncomfortable situation , sitting in Crowley's office, having to explain the situation to him. He was also, clearly, made a bit uncomfortable by the situation, but as headmage of the school, it was his job to provide you with what you needed.
you could already sense that dreaded feeling coming in the back of your throat as you explained. You really didn't want to cry in front of him, it was embarrassing, but there was really nothing you could do to stop it. In all honesty, Crowley doesn't know how to react in this situation, he's not really good with comforting and all that, so he isn't sure what to do once you get up and leave once the conversation, tears threatening to pour from your eyes.
You do find the next day, however, the clothes you requested, although you're decently sure he made a guess on the sizing, and a small chocolate bar. A small note sat with the items, reading "You've been excused of all chores for this week, take the break you need". Truly a bird dad at heart, even when he's not good with the talking part.
Divus Crewel
While Crewel can be seen as, well, cruel, he's taken a liking to you as you've made your way into Night Raven College. Now obviously he hadn't thought much of Crowley, knowing he did the bare minimum keeping you at the school, but he didn't expect this.
Other than your school uniform and the clothes you showed up in, you really didn't have anything else to wear, and he was not having it. Of course once he found out he dragged you to the nearest clothing store. Caught up in his anger and disappointment with Crowley, he didn't see how nervous you actually were about getting new clothes.
It wasn't until you had to make decisions did he pick up on your hesitation. he was a bit pushy with trying to get you to pick out things, but it wasn't until it came to trying thing on he realized just why you were so hesitant about this whole thing. It really all had clicked the moment you had to actually try things on, but he had reassured you that everything was fine and took a different approach.
He started to prioritize clothes that would make you feel comfortable over the ones he thought looked fashionable, although don't doubt for a second fashion won't still be considered.
Once you're all done you've got a new wardrobe and Crewel understands you a lot better. After this there's very clear favoritism once in the classroom now, which Ace will complain about until the day he dies. But that's alright, it's worth it to put with the complaining now that Crewel's you're new dad figure who's willing to do anything to make you feel comfortable with the other boys
Mozus Trein
Out of all the staff at Night Raven College, professor Trein is the most of a dad, quite literally, after all he had three daughters. Because of this, he can pick up on those small things that make you different from the other male students at Night Raven College. While he had his assumptions, he never outright said anything. He decided it was none of his business, and that if you wanted him to know, you would come to him instead.
it was during one of his classes that he noticed you seemed really uncomfortable. Not just uncomfortable physically, but mentally. It looked like you were ready to burst into tears with one wrong move. When class ended, he told you to stay after.
In that moment it felt like everything had gotten so much worse. Had you messed up? Were you in trouble? That's really not something you could handle right now. but to your surprise, he asked if you were alright instead.
You couldn't help when you started to cry a bit at that moment, although you did your best to hold back as much of it as you could. this caught him off guard, he didn't want you to cry. After reassuring you that it was alright, you explained to him what was going on. You told him how you were trans, how you were trying so hard to hide it, and how dysphoria had really been eating away at you ever since you got there.
Fortunately, when raising his own daughters Trein had to comfort them plenty, so he was able to calm you down enough to once again reassure you that everything would be alright. He told you that if you had any issues, to come to him and that he wouldn't tell anyone if you didn't want to. if you wanted the rest of staff to know, he'd help you slowly come out.
After that, he's very attentive to you in class, always making sure you seem alright. He really just wans you to be okay, even if he doesn't know that much about being queer. he starts to see you as one of his kids, and he wants to protect and help you in any way he can.
Ashton Vargas
Out of all the teachers you weren't very exited to learn about your identity, it was Vargas. He's like the average intimidating man that you're not sure if you want him to know you're queer. his reaction would either be super supportive, or he'd be the most transphobic person you'd ever met. teaching gym, it was inevitable that he would eventually find out you were trans.
When it came to locker rooms, it was really a challenge. there was no way you could change with the rest of the guys, they'd figure it out in seconds, and no you can't get out of changing for gym. So you had to go to Vargas to ask if there was somewhere else you would be able to change. Of course, he made you explain. it wasn't in a mean way, but he wants to push every student to being the best version of themselves, and being too scared to change in a locker room was not going to help that, a least according to him.
So, you had to tell him. You explained to him that you were trans and not only were you not comfortable changing with the rest of the boys, it would be unsafe for you if in the room with the wrong person. he's very taken aback by this. he probably isn't the type of teacher to think about students being queer, not in a homophobic way, just not something he generally thought about. So he offered to let you use one of the bathrooms nearby, as long as you didn't tell anybody about it.
This does not mean, however, that he'll suddenly go easy on you. you're still expected to do the same exercises as the rest of the boys. you are a boy and therefore will be pushed just as hard as the rest of them. Sorry, no getting out of that one. Vargas doesn't really see you any differently. You're still one of his students and need to be pushed to your limits, no matter how much you may dislike it. In fact, this makes him even harder on you. he's strict about making sure you don't exercise in a binder and gives you work outs that would make you more physically masculine.
So congratulations, you're given even more work than all the other students, but it's in good intentions from Vargas.
Sam
In the end, it was inevitable that you would also have to go to Sam at some point. I mean those period products aren't gonna buy themselves. Even though it wasn't really an ideal situation, Sam seemed like the person who'd you'd rather come out to than everyone else.
He's a bit odd, but he doesn't seem like the type to be judgmental, although he might bug you a little bit about it, not in a mean way though, the way he does to everybody. He's a bit of a sassy guy and that isn't going to stop for you.
When you first ask if he has anything that could help, he simply laughs. yes, it's an odd request that he wasn't expecting, but of course he has some. In fact, he even has enough for you to pick out a preferred size of whatever it was that you wanted.
he doesn't tell anyone if you don't want him to, although when you show up, with friends or not, he'll make a few sly jokes about it. Not enough to out you, just enough to let you know that he knows, and it doesn't bother him at all.
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this took me a lot longer than I thought I would, probably because I kept goofing off and getting on my phone instead of writing. I feel like Sam's part is really short but at this point I'm pretty tired and need a hot chocolate lol. ty for reading and have a nice day <3
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theheirofthesharingan · 6 months
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What do you think about mikoto and fugaku as parents to Itachi & Sasuke? Fugaku gets a bad rep as a parent, but what about mikoto?
Wow, I've been thinking about this a lot lately.
Yeah, Fugaku gets a bad rep as a father and it's rightly so. Mikoto is seen as a loving mother, and while some part of that love is valid, and I like her for being a good mom to Sasuke, my admiration for her was dented upon the realization that she was a neglectful mother towards Itachi. And as much of a hot take as it might seem, both Fugaku and Mikoto were better parents to Sasuke than they were ever to Itachi.
So, I have mixed feelings about them both. And when I include Fugaku with Mikoto as a 'better parent' to Sasuke, please know the bar is in absolute hell.
I like the fact that Mikoto was at least invested in Sasuke's life.
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She was present in his life, albeit for a short while, and involved in it. She provided him, offered him the love he deserved and needed as a baby. She saw Sasuke was suffering and struggling to get his father's attention, and provided her moral support to him. There's not a single instance, however, she was present there for Itachi. Itachi, too, would have needed his mother's support sometime, that too when he was being sucked into the politics, but we don't see him getting any of that. One could argue it was because Sasuke never witnessed.. Yeah, but how was it after learning the truth not a single memory clicked in his mind that would give away Itachi's sufferings in front of his mom? It's probably because it never happened.
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Fugaku was outright neglectful towards Sasuke. Not just that he repeatedly compared Sasuke with Itachi, refusing to see him as his own person and saw him as only a shadow of the 'perfect' Itachi. If Sasuke wasn't as good as Itachi in all the things, he wasn't worth paying attention to, right?
The reason Sasuke was Sasuke and Itachi was Itachi was because of Mikoto. I strongly feel that children need a powerful feminine presence in their lives, which comes from their mothers or sisters. Sasuke was gentle and remained so after everything he went through. I believe it was because in his formative years Mikoto had been there for him.
There's a lot more to explore on Fugaku and Itachi than his parents with Sasuke. When I say Fugaku was a better father to Sasuke, what I mean is that despite being neglectful, he didn't drag Sasuke in the political mess that Itachi was. Sasuke was kept in complete darkness (probably like other kids of the clan) but Itachi wasn't shown this much kindness.
Fugaku and Itachi's conversations are mostly one sided with Mikoto being a silent spectator.
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This conversation in particular pains me the most in regards to Itachi. It's like he's only allowed to say yes and no, and any other disagreement with his father on the subject will not be taken positively. He seems unhappy and is suffering and his feelings as a child are not taken into account at all. I say no one treated him like a human. But his own parents never even saw him a child.
Itachi had been acting strange ever since joined Anbu and Fugaku wonders what's wrong with him.
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Shisui was spying on Itachi. Did he agree to go out spy on his BFF because some random Uchiha said this to him? Or was he ordered to do so by the chief of the police force? Fugaku, most likely, consented to Shisui spying on Itachi.
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Some people say this is an instance of Itachi being evil. LMAO. imagine your best friend committed suicide in front of you and some people come to your house to accuse you of his murder along with many other things? Right. He must behave very angelic.
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My man's worried what's wrong with his son who's being subjected to some burden he's dealing with all alone. And neither him not his wife want to reach out to him like normal parents should.
Eventually, when Sasuke asks whats wrong with Itachi and why he doesn't pay much attention to him, Fugaku has an even-I-don't-know response.
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In the anime Fugaku says 'Your brother had a hard time dropping his guard'. All of it is an indicator of how terribly Itachi was treated. It wasn't just neglect but also an additional burden of the clan and the village. And all of this is being said about a child that isn't even thirteen yet.
Honestly, I give a lot of benefit of doubt to all the characters in Naruto, Fugaku and Mikoto included. And this opinion on Sasuke and Itachi's parents is because how much Itachi is hated when, it's obvious how every single grown up, especially his parents, in his life failed him. He wasn't treated as a child.
Although, I don't like to hate on their parents either. Fugaku and Mikoto were nothing but kind to Itachi in the end. He'd have cherished those last moments forever until his last breath. Sasuke spoke openly to his father the day he lost him. He'd have hoped he'd continue to be like this with his family but that was the only time in his life he received genuine acknowledgement from his dad.
No, Fugaku and Mikoto were worse parents to Itachi than they were to Sasuke. I like Mikoto because she loved sasuke and showed him genuine love. But i can't like her more because Itachi needed support from his family, which he never got.
Yet they both lost so much and loss of their parents was the worst thing that happened to them both.
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peterparkouryo · 11 months
Text
consuming devotion | ੈ♡˳
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prompt: You can't help but love Peter, even if he doesn't reciprocate your feelings
warnings: heavy angst, heartbreak, sweet sweet unrequited love and one sided pining (obv)
word count: 1.5k
"I'm left wondering why the stars align, but your heart doesn't seem to find a place for mine."
a/n: it’s sorta unfinished but not rlly? also who’s excited for rebound four?? ;) (edited: it’s unfinished but there’s like a sort of part 2 that’s connected and i’m working on it)
ੈ♡˳
There's something so beautiful, yet so so painful about being in love. On one hand, you have these intense emotions that are so heartwarming, joyful, happiness and you're content with being around the person you love. On the other hand, your mind is a battleground of emotions. You're plagued by self-doubt, wondering if you're good enough, if you're worthy of their love. You question whether they truly care for you, or if you're just imaging things. You're torn between revealing your feelings, or risking heartbreak.
That's the thing, you have felt every emotion of being in love that there is. The truth is, it sucks.
The distance between you and Peter feels like an insurmountable chasm. Time seems to drag on, and you always, always ache for his presence.
You know there's a mutual understanding that he only sees you as a friend, he has said it on multiple occasions, and thankfully you weren't stupid enough to actually admit to being hopelessly in love with the boy.
You're not entirely sure if he is aware of your affection for him, and you surely doubt that he is, considering its, well, Peter.
What you do know, that you are positively sure of, is that you've probably loved Peter for the better half of your life. There were countless times that proved it too, such as the movie nights, the boy offering to help you with your dreadful homework, walking you home after school, and pretty much anything else that made a vulnerable warmth settle in your heart.
After that realization, you became hyper-aware of every little detail about Peter - his likes, his dislikes hobbies and interests. You hung onto every word he ever said, dissecting his actions for hidden meanings. You started craving his attention and validation, yet you feared the vulnerability the came to revealing your true feelings.
You always had a mix of emotions all at once, sadness, frustration, and sometimes even jealousy. You alway questioned yourself, wondering what could possibly be wrong with you, why you weren't enough for him. It's a battle between your heart and mind, trying to rationalize your while your heart keeps yearning for the unattainable.
Peter's heart was truly pure gold, always thinking of others before himself, helping out whenever he could, he was perfect. And no matter what he did, you still loved him.
Even if he continuously rejected your feelings. 
You both knew he wasn't exactly doing it on purpose, he's told you countless times that he only strictly saw you as a friend and nothing more, but like the stubborn person you were, you ignored those words and lived in this pathetic delusion that you'd actually have a chance with him.
Finding yourself caught in a constant cycle of hope and despair, wavering between moments of elation whenever he showed you kindness or affection, and moments of heart-wrenching despair when he seemed distant or unresponsive, which wasn't an uncommon thing. You always, despite already knowing where the boy stood, tried to decipher he feelings, to find hidden signs that he might just feel the same way, but the uncertainty gnaws at your sanity.
"Party, my place, tonight." A voice interrupts your quiet studying, the girl plopping her lunch tray down on the rectangular table quite harshly, the action gaining your morbid attention.
"I don't know, last time I went to one of your parties, I had to clean up after you." You point out, paying close attention to the way Liz's smiles slowly turns into a frown.
"Well, this party is different, and it's not like I made you do that." She argues, shaking her head with an eye roll.
Liz has been your best friend since you both could ride a bike. She's been your better half for as long as you can remember, knowing everything about you and vice versa. The transition from middle schoolers into high school was tough to say the least, puberty doing its job for her, and you....not so much. So it was not a shocking factor that the girl quickly became popular.
Yet, despite her social status, she always stuck to you like glue, and you couldn't be more thankful for that.
You give her a unsure glance, before turning back to your textbook.
"Peter'll be there."
You swear you thought you were subtle when your head practically snaps up at your friend's sentence, but given the way she snorts at your action, you highly doubt it and you clear your throat before you hurriedly look down at your textbook again.
"Okay." You shrug, picking up your pencil to vigorously erase a problem that was probably right or wrong, but you didn't care, your only goal was trying to pretend to seem nonchalant.
Truth be told, you do try to move on from Peter, but the love you feel is stubborn and persistent. It's a constant ache gnawing at your soul, a wound refusing to heal. 
Liz tilts her head at your nonchalant response, not buying into your tone.
"Okay?" She repeats.
"Okay." You confirm, placing the pencil on the table, out of your anxious grasp.
Liz was well in the know of your one-sided affection for Peter. Always encouraging you to talk to him, entertaining the very thought of you two ever being a couple. Oh, how respectful she was toward you when she knew at one point during your high school years Peter harboured feelings for her. You don't know exactly what made the boy stop liking her, but you were glad in the end.
"Well, alright." The girl says carefully, picking at her food.
"You don't have to come, but it'd be great if you did." She states with a sweet smile, and you don't find it in yourself to retort it and only nod.
Liz mumbles a quiet bye, standing up with her lunch tray in hand, most likely going to hang out with her other more sociable friends, letting you be left alone with your thoughts.
Unfortunately, those thoughts last for a good five seconds.
"Just the girl I was looking for." You recognize the voice almost immediately, straightening your position to look more presentable.
Peter was effortlessly gorgeous, it was unfair, truly. It was almost like he was purposely taunting you with the knowledge of knowing you can't have him because he doesn't want you to.
He sets his belongings in the empty seat next to him, unzipping his backpack, grabbing a small piece of paper with a pencil, zipping the bag back up before sliding over the gathered materials in your reach.
You look in-between him and the objects in confusion.
"I need you to write me a letter." Peter says, quickly noticing your bewilderment.
"For?"
"My birthday."
"Your birthday's not till August?"
"Well, not my birthday, MJ's." Peter corrects with a small chuckle.
You nod slowly, sliding the objects closer to you, avoiding Peter's intent gaze.
"Isn't her birthday in like, June?" You quiz, writing your 'to' and 'from' as Peter shrugs from across you.
"Yeah, but I'm planning a surprise party that'll at least take a month considering its Michelle, and I know how much you love writing letters." The boy explains and your eyes go wide as you look at him, raising an offended eyebrow.
Of course, it was certainly no secret that many of your love confessions were most of the time in the form of letters, those of which he rejected, continuously, and it was a heartbreaking experience every time. But having the boy use the very thing you couldn't help but show your expression with, against you, hurt worse than any rejection (you're lying, obviously).
"You're so funny, I almost laughed." You deadpan, slamming the pencil down on the table, startling Peter slightly as you push the pencil and paper back to him.
You quickly gather your things, turning to leave the lunch room, though it was nowhere near over, ignoring the calls of your name from Peter.
-
One-sided love is a tortuous experience. It's such a devastating thing knowing that your love is nowhere near as close to be reciprocated. Always filled with such despair. A constant battle between your heart and reality, between your dreams and the harsh truth.
After your "storm out", Peter was quick to text you with a million apologies, which to all of those you hesitantly ignored, and it was a no good feeling, probably the hardest thing you ever had to do.
It wasn't like he had never joked about your feelings towards him. You think its better that way, but sometimes he could go a little too far and you never understood why you allowed him to continue with the humour you never found yourself to laugh at. It was almost like a coping mechanism, coming to terms with the whole ordeal in a way that wouldn't be so heartbreaking.
Maybe the reason Peter only did joke about it was to help you get over him because he can only ever see you as a friend, and he wanted you to see it as well.
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anantaru · 1 year
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cw. yandere blade, toxic, suggestve, fem! reader
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blade doesn‘t fall in love easily.
beyond everything, he never envisioned himself to be faced with such vigorous sentiments by origin— from first principles and a closer look at his perceptions, you can refer to his views as ignorance or blindness, something he gazed down on in an almost smug way.
but when he does, he doesn't think it was fun nor comfortable, but entirely has he decided that he‘d burn entire worlds down if it meant for you to remain close to his side, so you wouldn't be able to leave him behind.
then again, maybe he should burn them down regardless, not only for you, but to demonstrate the love he felt, or the very emotion he confused as love...
"it is a necessary hardness." a remembrance of his first sentence towards his cruel directions in life, you reminisce about it vividly. but you hold his eye contact, only distantly, yet refuse to give him any further satisfaction.
it really doesn’t need a genius to figure out what was displayed before one, it being the heart of a passionate, driven person— the emotions intense and wild, allied with a roaring storm, the bolds of lightning signalizing his darkened perceptions and blanketing any good, as if there was any good to begin with.
so he stood calm where he was standing before slumping down next to you, mattress shifting at his added weight. "you didn't have to do this." you silently speak again, just from below him, your breath hitching ever so slightly as his entire body leans into your figure.
you have to remain careful, you realize, but his eyes would be an intoxicating weapon, flickering up before you watch him place his hand on top of your lower stomach.
"do you love me?" his expression stood still, passive for the most time, but awaiting a quick response, he wasn't even sure you would answer his question, because his trust in you had graven limits.
you remark back, "i wouldn't be here if i didn't." and force your body to relax under his freezing handle before allowing him to slide his large hand into your garments, your entire skin slowly beginning to feel the untwist under his heedful but possessive ministrations.
"good." blade was simultaneously fascinated and petrified by your outwardly real devotion, "but do you love me?"
silence, blade again, doesn't think it was funny for you to ask such insolent question and demand an answer from him in the first place, so he leaves it unchallenged to obscure through the dark room and carried on to smoother a painfully slow motion on your cunt.
you found yourself longing the intimacy and pull your hips upwards, cradling your arms around the man and holding him close by his shoulders, but the lack of response flooded your mind with deeply broken thoughts. "you're mine." yet at last, there it was, a subtle meaning, with a hidden truth.
his fingertips were warm and dampened by your slick, working in sharp angles on your soft skin. it burned your body with a sort of desperate fever to be able to call yourself his. he could tell that you weren't entirely satisfied though, but blade, could he really answer your question how you so desired it?
your heart grew louder, pounding hard against his strong chest and a 'o' of bare lust formed on your glistening lips, pushing against him further, letting him get to know your scent— the one that set his loins on fire, made him lick his lips with a devil-like grin crossing the outsides of his mouth.
blade could feel you constrict around his first finger and wanted to push himself aside, he wanted to feel you for real now, feverishly dragging his skin against your own as he coos sweet ministrations into your ear.
did his words hold any graven significance? they might, he recalls becoming vulnerable whenever he had gotten intimate with you and it scared him, the thought in particular was frightening— of letting his cruel mask fall flat in front of another person.
but the man wanted to sink into every secret part of your body, experience each bend and curve, and be held. blade watches your back arch into his body as he adds a second finger into your tight hole, flawlessly pulling in and out of your entrance, in and out in and out, scraping his finger pads along your slicked walls.
he wonders how far he could go, or if he should ever tell you about the things you do not know, about commodities he did in order for you to remain devoted and obedient, unknowing and naive.
at the inside, he prefers the idea that came inwardly, occupying his mind— about the secrecy of it all, that he doesn't want your pretty head to worry about anything or everything, why else would you love him if he were to expose you to his blood stained intrigues?
he shrugs himself into your neck before locking a bundle of flesh in between his sharp teeth, sucking on your sensitive parts and keeping an almost calculative pace on your pussy, well, the one that belonged to him of course.
you should feel honored that he always feels the painful need to touch you the moment he sees you fly over his mesmerizing pair of eyes.
with a higher pitched whine, you writhe under his now warmer body, your thighs clamping desperately around his arm as blade adds a third and final finger to lengthen your orgasm filling you whole, laughing lightly as you came on his palm, hard and catching an unimpeded view of his erected length brushing against his pants.
he feels that impulse again and begins to unconsciously rub his hips into your thigh— right after feeling your little hole tense up and down, he hears you whisper a soft "please", only watching a few seconds longer before pushing his long fingers back into your cunt and catching you off guard, your lack of breathing control making itself visible in your aching throat.
to touch you more, to rip your clothes off your skin, to kiss every inch of your body, worship, it's feral, that's what it was, but was it love? there is much about him that you do not know, can never know because it would scare you even more, blade fears.
but presently, even just by doing this, by pleasing your needs, blade knows it's the only way for him to convey his love ...
... or the frightening emotion he mistook for love.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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robinsno1lesbian · 10 months
Note
Thigh riding with Nancy trying not to get caught
i've been trying to work through my inbox for the longest time, but whenever i try i get new asks that give me a random burst of energy to write...
anyway!
(smut below the cut, MDNI)
"shut up" she hisses against your lips. all adoration and sweetness from the previous makeout session had vanished, replaced by harsh, desperate desire and want. the fabric of your button-up shirt dangles loosely around your shoulders, revealing your tight bra to her. you had worn it with purpose, but not the kind that would leave you fucked out in the bathroom of steve harrington's house. you had wanted to surprise her, wanted to see that look of sudden desire flash over her soft features when she would undress you -later that night. you had bought the set a couple of days before steve's birthday party at his place, hoping to get a chance to show her as soon as possible. but then again, you hadn't intended for that to be at his party.
you really thought you could wait until later.
but instead, you had chosen to tease her on the dancefloor.
truth be told, you already had some drinks then, but it really wasn't your fault that nancy was holding your hips like that. that she was roaming your sides freely, allowing your fingers to dig into your soft flesh while she swayed you back and forth and from side to side.  so you decided to tease her back.  it had been all fun and games: you had grounded your backside against her slowly; your ass pressing into her front purposefully while you two were dancing.  you had tried not to be too obvious too, covering it up by moving to the rhythm of the beat.  one of your hands sat on her cheek when you turned around to catch a glimpse of her face. 
that was when you knew that you were in trouble:  nancy had glared at you in slight disbelief with her lips parted and her chest rising and falling rapidly.  her pupils, even under the dimmed lights, were blown wide leaving little of the blue in her eyes.  you had heard her soft gasp in your ear, a smile of satisfaction tugging at the corner of your lips when her fingers tightened on your waist. 
everything else happened in a bit of a blur: one second you were on the dancefloor, and the next she was dragging you away by the arm. 
"nancy" you had whined playfully "where are we going? don't you wanna dance?"  but your girlfriend was relentless and pulled you upstairs and into the huge bathroom down the hall. 
she had locked the door on your way in, which caused you to gulp audibly. you didn't know what exactly was to come, but you could imagine by the way she shoved you up against the door and pinned your hands above your head by the wrists.  "what was that about?" she whispered and yet all you could do was whimper, your lips chasing her own desperately. 
nancy leaned back and chuckled. "already do desperate huh?"  she didn't break the eye contact when her fingers made their way down your torso and she started working on the buttons.  hot blush crept up your cheeks at the realization of what she was about to discover but you didn't dare to move, even kept your hands above your head; excited to see how your girlfriend would react if she saw how you attended this party.
her eyes widened when her gaze fell upon your now exposed chest.  you just smirked and raised a brow at her. "like what you see?"  "shit, baby" she breathed and ran her fingertips over the lacy fabric. "you're so gorgeous"  that was when she leaned back in, her lips chasing your own while she pressed the entire length of her body against your own.  her hands found yours again, only that she didn't grab your wrists this time but linked your fingers together and held you while her lips moved in sync with your own. 
her mouth slowly traced down your jaw and you dropped your head back against the door.  "nancy" you whispered. your hand buried itself in her dark curls on its own accord, while the other girl started kissing down your neck.  you knew by the way she was sucking at the soft skin that it would bruise, leaving red marks all over you, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. 
"so fucking gorgeous" nancy mumbled and her hands ran up and down your sides until they finally rested on your hips "i want you so much right now"  you leaned back slowly, poking your tongue against the inside of your cheek at the words she just said.  "nancy wheeler" you spoke "we're- we're at steve's. i want you so much. but i'm sure he wouldn't appreciate it if we fucked in his bathroom " "who said anything about fucking?"  you opened your mouth again to speak, but the only thing that came out was a desperate noise, caused by nancy's thigh which she suddenly shoved between your own. 
she tilted her head to the side, studying the way your facial features tensed up in pleasure. "hm? what do you think? this isn't fucking is it? it technically isn't and if you're quiet, no one will ever know"  you knew damn well steve would kill you, if he caught you like this. but the aching want between your thighs was only growing with each passing second and the way the denim of her pants sat against your panty-covered center, easily exposed by the skirt you chose to wear, wasn't helping. 
so you gave in.  which was precisely how you had gotten yourself into the current situation: thighs spread for nancy to keep hers between them, grinding back and forth desperately and getting your arousal all over her clothes. 
what started as softly making out while you were getting yourself off on her thigh has slowly escalated: now, just a couple of minutes later, you're panting, desperately holding onto her back while your hips are moving back and forth. nancy has one hand on your hip as well, steadying you and supporting you in your movements.  "fuck" you whine, both of your eyes closed in concentration. "fuck, fuck, fuck" "shh" nancy hushes you harshly and leans in to capture your lips in a searing kiss. her mouth is on yours in an instant and her lips part to let her tongue into your mouth. 
you can taste her in your mouth, can feel the hard, flexed muscle of her thigh against your center. it's so much, it's nearly making you forget about the party that is going on right in front of the bathroom door. the music and the noise of people talking have faded to nothing but a soft buzz in the back of your mind, nothing compared to the sensation of nancy's touch.  "nancy" you gasp at a particular hard roll of your hips against her, causing you to feel your lower half coiling in the pleasure. 
you can feel your soaked cunt contracting around nothing when you release through your panties and onto her thigh.  you could scream right then and there but nancy's mouth presses up against your own the moment she feels your body tensing and shaking in pleasure and swallows all noise that might escape your lips. 
"yeah sweet girl" she whispers. "just like that, just like that" 
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drunktuesdays · 8 months
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I've been waffling where/how to ask you this and like. you took a long time off writing, how long did it take to accept you were done? was it a slow end that dragged along, or did you just stop one day? I feel like I've lost a part of myself here and I don't know if I should keep trying to hang onto it
this is a really hard thing to answer!!!!!!! yes, i did go through a LONG fallow period. i didn't write a single word from probably 2015-2020. and i did think i was absolutely done. i had SO much fun in teen wolf fandom, and when i fell out of it, i didn't think i would ever feel that strongly about a fandom again. i never could have predicted professional wrestling rpf in one million years.
and no, i didn't stop one day. i think i was pretty much done with teen wolf about six months before i finally wandered away, but i had had so much fun and made such good friends that i didn't want to believe it.
but the truth is that the best fic comes because you have something to say. there's something about the canon that compels you, or you're curious about, or you think would be interesting to explore. and for me and teen wolf, i think there came a point where i realized i wasn't saying anything new or interesting, i was just retracing my steps for the sake of participating.
for me, when i realized that, that's when i decided i was done. i didn't want to keep flogging a dead horse. and having something new and fun and interesting to say isn't something that you can force. or at least--it isn't for me. i cannot guilt myself into writing when i really truly have nothing to say. i can make myself write when i just don't feel like writing, and i can slog through scenes i think are tricky to write, but when i truly honestly have nothing to say, i just have to take a break.
but--i don't think you should feel like you lost something. you didn't lose anything. all that art you did is still there. you still wrote all those stories. and if you go through a fallow period, it doesn't mean it's fallow forever. maybe you need a short break, maybe you need a long break, but you can't kick your own ass about it. you're not going to rediscover your voice by guilting yourself into it. start reading again, watch movies and tv that wake your brain up, daydream, whatever. it'll come back! one day, you're gonna see something that will activate you, and your writing voice will pop into your head, and suddenly you won't be able to type fast enough. this is a spell i am casting on you, on me, and on anyone who wishes they were writing!!!!!!
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