#it's not like he occupies my every waking thought or anything

[amphibifish]

heimdallr and heimdall from mdlr are so incredibly different it's funny

[lowkeyremi]

Slightly suggestive!!

“Brat’s down,” your husband murmurs quietly with a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Thank you for putting Shoko to sleep babe.” Katsuki nods firmly. You’re sitting on the couch minding your own business but you can see the blonde staring at you out of the corner of your eye.

“What? Is something wrong?” You ask wiping your face, thinking that there may be some chocolate cake crumbs left on your mouth.

“No it’s just… our other three brats are at sleepovers ‘n Shoko’s down for the night with Mina comin’ ina few minutes.” His lip turns upward at the corner; just acknowledging the fact that all four of your kids are occupied for the night.

“And..?” You ask with a knowing smirk.

“And, we have finally have some time for a date.” Katsuki’s not wrong. With his line of work he often doesn’t come home until late and when he does come home early you guys are busy with your four children.

It seems you two are always missing each other. The passion is still there of course, it just feels like you guys don’t have the time to just enjoy each other’s company, which you both knew that would be the case going into parenthood, but it’s still something you’re learning to get used to.

“Seems that way, huh? Are we gonna get some dinner then do something else?” You can’t remember the last time you and Katuski went out to dinner without the kids with you.

“Was thinking dinner and a lil bit of fun after that.” You know what he’d implying by “a little bit of fun” by the way he licks his lips.

“That fun better involve some condoms, because I’m done having kids.” He chuckles at that, and that’s when you truly realize how much time the two of you have spent together. When he laughs there are little wrinkles around his eyes and you usually hear him complain about the occasional grey hair growing on his head.

“Fuck rubbers, I’ll pull out.” Katsuki folds his arms just hearing the word condoms.

You snort at his statement, and he glares, “I don’t see what’s so funny.”

“You say you’ll pull out. Every. Single. Time. And guess what? We have a seven month old baby now.” It’s your turn to fold your arms at Katsuki’s ridiculousness.

“That’s different, I was trying get you knocked up.” Your eyes widen and you gasp loudly, “Katsuki!”

“You seriously didn’t realize it?” His lips turn upward again and you chuck a pillow at him which he catches and throws back at you with more force.

“Condoms. That’s final.” He groans quietly as to not wake the baby.

“God, we haven’t used condoms in years. Aren’t you getting to the age of menopause anyway?”

“Are you serious??? I am NOT that old.” You know he’s joking by the way he snickers.

“Fuck, fine. I’ll go buy some. Just for you.” He says it with a grimace on his face, but you know deep down he’s okay with it because he’ll do anything to make you comfortable.

“Thank you baby. I’ll go get ready for dinner while waiting for Mina.”

“Damn, I don’t even know what size I’d be.” The blonde scratches his chin in thought.

“Probably a small.” He charges to the couch to lift you up over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” Your demand is followed by a shriek when he slaps your ass, hard.

“Take it back then.” Back in the earlier stages of your relationship, Katsuki never held back with slapping your ass, but now that you guys have kids, you’ve deemed it inappropriate. You were used to it back then but now it’s caught you off guard since it’s been so long.

“Take what back?” The innocence you fein doesn’t faze your husband at all.

“Take back what you said about my monster sized cock.”

Now you can’t help but laugh at that. “Do you always have to be so childish, Katsuki?

“S’not childish it’s the truth.”

“Okay your dick is big, put me down.” He huffs, clearly not satisfied with your answer, but he puts you down anyway.

10 minutes later he returns from the convenience store, with no bag in hand.

Mina had arrived while he was gone and the two of you had been catching up for a little while.

“So, Katsuki… where are the condoms?” You ask when you realize he has nothing in hand.

“They didn’t have my size.” He says cheekily and you’re sure that was far from the truth.

“Really?” You say sarcastically.

“Really. Anyway, thanks Raccoon Eyes for stepping in to watch our baby.” Mina giggles at his implications earlier.

“You two have fun!!!” You roll your eyes, but you’re secretly very excited to spend time with your husband one on one.

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

Interested in other dad!bakugo works? Check out:

Morning with the kids, He wants a big family with you (drabble) and When you give birth (drabble) !

tagging: @omitea and @satorisoup hope you guys enjoy!!! 😂😂

[bokunoheros]

TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab, reader and katsuki are in their 3rd year, everyone is 18+, hand kink, this is actually rlly vanilla compared to everything else i’ve written GENRE: smut SUMMARY: you’re obsessed with your boyfriend’s strong hands and want his fingers in your mouth. WORD COUNT: 854 🦊’s A/N: sorry for how fucked up day 14 was LMAOOO also i’m sorry this is so short?? i’ll make up for it somehow

     for weeks now, you’d been asking your boyfriend to put his fingers in your mouth, or to let you suck on his fingers to soothe your oral fixation, just for him to shut you down each and every time. 

     and every time, you whined why?

     yet, without fail, he gave you the same response; because i don’t want you accidentally ingesting my sweat, idiot. it was out of care for your well being that he didn’t cave to a request-turned-demand that he wishes he could indulge you in desperately. but, whether he expressed it or not, katsuki was a caring person. …in his own aggressive manner, but anyone who knows him can tell when he cares for someone, as he becomes just the slightest bit softer around them, only has his guard half-way up instead of being on full defense mode all the time. and in regards to you? he more than just cared for you, he was stupidly, disgustingly in love with you. so much so, it made him physically ill. 

     that’s how he finds himself awake at midnight three weeks after your initial ask, locked away in his dorm room, the only thing illuminating the darkness being his laptop screen from underneath his sheets. he had gone down a rabbit hole on reddit about nitroglycerin and whether or not it was dangerous if consumed, how it tasted (as he had never… i dunno, licked his fuckin’ palms before like a little freak), what a lethal dosage was, etc.

     now, he feels a bit more prepared to yield to your demands next time you plead with him. as long as you don’t suck on them for an extended period, you should be fine—nitroglycerin was often used to help with chest pain in small doses, after all.

     so, the next time the two of you are getting hot and heavy in his dorm late at night, he finds himself pinning you to the bed, straddling your hips, erection pressing into your thinly clothed cunt—as you were both in nothing but your underwear—his chest pressing against yours, he finds his mind wandering to how he should go about this. 

     does he wait for you to bring it up again? or does he surprise you by taking the initiative..? tsk, like it’s even a question.

     pulling away from the sloppy kiss, he takes the opportunity to stick two of his fingers in your mouth when you go to ask him what he was doing—something that makes your eyes widen in shock for a brief moment before you’re grabbing at his thick wrist with both hands as you begin to suck his middle and ring fingers.

     katsuki bites his plump bottom lip as you swirl your tongue around and between the digits occupying your wet mouth before he suddenly has the muscle pinned down as he slides his fingers towards the back of your throat. 

      you can’t help but smile, and maybe moan a little, as he starts to essentially fingerfuck your mouth, nearly massaging your slick tongue but being just a bit too rough for it to be considered such. you were just content to finally get what you’d been begging for for weeks. 

     “mmmgh,” you moan softly, a noise that makes the blond smirk. 

     “enjoyin’ yourself?” he asks, more rhetorically than anything, but you answer him nonetheless.

     “mmhm,” you hum in response, closing your eyes as you focus on the taste of his fingers. they were… almost sweet? in a sense, but also left a light burning and tingling sensation behind in their wake—probably just the effects of the nitroglycerin, you think. nothing you hadn’t already thought of or considered. 

     spreading the thick digits, he splays them out to either side of your tongue, allowing you to move the muscle freely again 

     “kats…” you whine, rolling your hips up as you start to grow impatient, the feeling of his fingers in your mouth driving you crazy. nothing could have prepared you for how nice it felt. maybe it’s because it was like a forbidden treat for what seemed like the longest time, and now you were finally getting to indulge in it, and if not for the throbbing of your clit bringing you back to the real world, you think you could be content sucking on his thick and calloused digits for as long as he let you. 

     “mm–ow! you little shit!” he hisses when you suddenly bite down against his fingers, and he all but jerks them out of your mouth. “what was that for?”

     you can’t help but giggle and smirk at his confused expression.

     “felt like it,” you grin, looking up at him with nothing but mischief in your eyes.

     “fine, see if i ever let you suck on my fingers again,” he huffs, crossing his well-toned arms as he rolls his eyes.

     “wait, no–! ‘m sorry, baby; i was just fuckin’ with you, i won’t do it again, i promise,” you beg, propping yourself up on your forearms.

      fortunately, this time, it only took a few minutes of begging instead of a few weeks to get him to relent to your desperate pleas.

return to KINKTOBER | K. BAKUGOU M.LIST

[sixosix]

(OFFICIALLY) SWEPT OFF YOUR FEET

i. summary in which everyone knew you were in a relationship, except for you.

ii. warnings wc 1.5k, profanity, reader will be angry: couple fight scene but not really, alhaitham is kinda dumb here, but he loves you and you love him and that's all that matters, ending is kinda lame... ft. tighnari and cyno

iii. written for my big sibling @earthtooz hope u like this one earf ily

“Hey, Alhaitham?”

He hums noncommittally.

You nestle further in his arm that’s draped lazily over your shoulder, his other hand and his attention occupied by a book. He doesn’t respond again, but he does glance at you for a moment while you shift, adjusting his arm more comfortably.

“Tighnari sent me a letter the other day.”

“Hm.”

“And it was real sweet, you know. He sent over fruits and told me you have your share in my package. He didn’t want to send them to you because he said the fruits would have expired by the time you’d read the letter.” Alhaitham doesn’t deny it. “But I read something extremely strange in the letter that had me dropping the fruits out of pure shock.”

Alhaitham still doesn’t reply. But you know him well enough to know that he’s no longer reading—just keeping appearances.

“Did you read it?”

“...No.”

Obviously. “Ah, well. Let me quote it, as I feel the need to share it with you as well.” You sit up straight and push Alhaitham’s book away from his line of view. “He said, ‘For the insufferable, lovely couple. It’s been a while since you two have visited. How are you and Alhaitham doing? Write back soon.’ And then he taped a flower.”

Alhaitham’s mouth twitches into a half-smile. “You look miffed.”

You scowl. “Alhaitham, of course I’m miffed! Since when were we a lovely couple? And why are you not surprised? Were you the one to prank them?”

“No one’s trying to fool anyone,” he says smoothly, picking up his book once again. As if he just hasn’t caused your crisis. “Tighnari is simply being a good friend and looking for something to nag us about.”

“Alhaitham, since when were we a couple?” you demanded again, shaking his arm. “Did I miss something? Did I wake up one day and forget about being in a relationship with you?”

“Haven’t we always been in one?”

“No, we have not?”

Alhaitham casts you a glance. “You sound unsure.”

“Because you seem so sure of yourself for no reason,” you fume, itching with the urge to hurl the book at his face. “I didn’t even know you were even into me like that!”

“I let you kiss me on the cheek every night before you leave my house. Sometimes, you don’t even leave my house, so we sleep on the same bed.” As if that explains anything. And did he fling out these reasons to Tighnari, too?

“Well, I do it because I’ve been doing it since we were, like, six. And you never told me to stop. Plus, it’s just a cheek kiss—that’s way different from an actual kiss actual couples do,” you say, getting increasingly infuriated with each word that’s coming out your mouth. Why do you have to explain how relationships work to Alhaitham? Surely he’s read a guide about love in the millions of books he’s touched?

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t start kissing me the way couples do, then.”

Oh, this bitch. “So you knew that I liked you?” Your voice wavers, and you feel a little pathetic. “And that’s what prompted you to start spreading lies to everyone? Is this some joke to you?”

Immediately, his expression is swept off of amusement. “Y/N,” he says as you feel your lips tremble. “Y/N, that’s not—”

“Shut up,” you say. “How long has this been going on? Since when have I been outside of the biggest inside joke, huh?”

“It’s not like that. I thought—”

“Oh, you thought, didn’t you? Yet you didn’t think I don’t want my feelings to be played like—like—” You can’t even bring yourself to say this. You know that Alhaitham can be mean when he wants to be, but making a joke out of the feelings you’ve desperately hidden for years?

“I need to leave.” You’re not sure why you feel the need to announce it. Was it because you rarely even leave his place? Each step feels wrong. You don’t want to be mad at Alhaitham to this extent but you’re hurt.

You ignore Alhaitham’s hurried, “Where are you going?” because you don’t have an answer to that. Wherever you go, you always end up in Alhaitham’s arms.

You forcefully push the door open and march off, head spinning, humiliated. You hear Alhaitham’s steps fall into place after yours. It’s pissing you off even more that Alhaitham doesn’t even look the slightest bit frazzled, as if you impulsively sprinting off is just a walk in the block for him.

Then you spot Cyno in the middle of a street. He catches your wrist before you can avoid him.

He blinks, mildly surprised to see it’s just you and not some food stall thief. “Y/N.” Cyno tilts his head slightly to acknowledge the man a few feet away from you. “Alhaitham. Is something the matter?”

“It’s nothing!” You don’t question why or how Cyno is here, shoving him aside—which proved to be a little difficult given how he’s pretty strong for such a tiny man.

“You’re crying,” Cyno points out as you try to push him away as if you aren’t aware of how your face feels uncomfortably hot and how tears are sliding off your cheeks.

“It’s a marital dispute,” Alhaitham says, directly behind you.

His voice makes you scowl. So infuriatingly sexy, and you’re mad at it. “We’re not married!”

Cyno nods, serious. “Yes, I only heard about the engagement.” At your stunned silence and Alhaitham’s reluctant stillness, Cyno clears his throat and steps aside. “I suppose I’ll leave you two to it. I don’t know how relationships work.”

You groan as Cyno walks off, “Great, so even Cyno thinks we’re a couple. Who’s next, Lesser Lord Kusanali?”

Alhaitham looks away. “Well—”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Your wrist seems keen on being dragged around by men today, it seems. Alhaitham firmly tugs at your arm, pulling you close to his chest, his gaze intensely searching yours. But all he would be able to see is your scowl. And all you can see is his handsome face.

“Y/N,” Alhaitham says, your name in his voice a sweet murmur. “I’m sorry I upset you. I didn’t think you would react that way.”

“What, you think I’d just roll with it?” you spit with dripping bitterness.

“Yes.” You're taken aback as you gaze at him and find his expression to be entirely genuine and open. “We fell into a friendship so easily. I fell in love with you the same way: naturally. I thought…” And then his usually blank face twists into something unpleasant. “Forgive me.”

“Alhaitham, you idiot. You bastard. Do you have any idea how relationships work?”

“No. All I know is how to be with you.” He wipes a tear off your cheek. “But it appears I’m not even doing that right.”

“Fuck you.” You bat his hand away. His face falls. “You don’t get to act all sweet to me like that. I spent years thinking you would never see me that way, and you get to decide one morning that we’re in a relationship, just like that?”

“You’ve liked me for years?” Alhaitham’s eyes are a bit wide, totally missing the point.

“Alhaitham.”

“I ask you out every dinner. And you say yes each time.”

“I didn’t think you meant it like that!”

“I did mean it like that,” Alhaitham says, and again with that ‘so sure of myself’ personality. You hate it. You love it. “And I meant everything I’ve ever said to you like that. I didn’t tell anyone anything; they just assumed on their own, and only then did I realize how it did seem that way. It was my selfishness that didn’t try to deny their assumptions.”

Alhaitham’s usually so difficult to speak to, especially when it comes to expressing his true emotions. You often find yourself filling the silence, and he seems content with it. However, he appears desperate at this moment, as though you’re planning on leaving if he doesn’t give you a reason to stay.

You are too weak. “So you like me.”

“I do.”

“…And you want to… be in a relationship with me.” Alhaitham nods. You're beginning to feel flustered as the realization sets in that the man you've always dreamt of is holding you intimately in the middle of nowhere, and also confessing that he feels the same way. “Ask me out properly, then.”

Alhaitham looks at you incredulously. Did he think it was over?

“Do it, Alhaitham. Woo me. Win me over. Sweep me off my feet.”

“...Y/N,” he hesitates, his face tinted pink, vaguely embarrassed. “Go out with me. In that way.”

It sounds demanding and clumsy, but it’s perfectly Alhaitham, so your heart beats out of your chest and your face splits into a grin all the same.

You wrap your arms around his neck. “If you’re gonna be my boyfriend, you’re going to do it right, you hear me? You won’t just let me do anything. And you will start—officially—tomorrow by telling everyone that we are not engaged nor married.”

Alhaitham dips his head down, your chin trapped by his fingers. “We will be, eventually, though. And I can just start now. Officially.”

Your confusion doesn’t last for even a second when his lips meet yours in a kiss. You’ve been wooed. Won over. Swept off your feet.

earth i hope u know it took me months to find a good plot for your man this was a feat in itself. also i copy pasted your tags love u.

also if u caught the title while it was called swept over your feet shut up…. Please. this didnt have a title originally 🙁

[thef1diary]

Love Unwrapped | L. Norris

Summary: after mutually breaking up, you and Lando drifted apart. However, on your birthday, Lando shows up unexpectedly with a gift, reigniting old feelings.

— part of the Birthday Bash fics

warnings: angst if you squint, fluff.

pairing: lando x fem!ex!reader

wc: 1.6k

main masterlist taglist form

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

As you sit alone in your cozy apartment, the soft glow of the moonlight casting dancing shadows on the walls, you can't help but feel a twinge of loneliness. It's your birthday, but this year feels different somehow—empty, without the usual excitement and celebration.

Just as you resign yourself to a quiet night in, there's a sudden knock on the door, interrupting your thoughts. Surprised, you glance at the clock. Who could it be at this hour?

Opening the door reveals a familiar figure standing on your doorstep, a sheepish smile playing at the corners of his lips. It's Lando, holding a small gift bag in his hand and a larger bag in the other.

"Hey," he says, his voice warm yet tentative. "Happy birthday."

Your heart skips a beat at the sight of him. "Lando? You remembered?"

He chuckles softly, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. "Of course I did. I just wanted to stop by and wish you a happy birthday. Mind if I come in?"

You step aside, allowing him entry into your humble abode. "Of course, come on in."

As Lando enters, you can't help but notice the subtle changes in his appearance—the confidence in his posture, the newfound ease in his smile. It's as if he's grown in the time since you last saw him, even if it was just one month ago.

"Take a seat," you offer, gesturing towards the couch. "Can I get you anything? Tea, maybe?"

Lando shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "No, thanks. I'm good."

You both settle onto the couch, the awkward silence hanging between you like a thick fog. It feels like it's been so long since you've been alone together like this, and the unfamiliarity of the situation is palpable.

"So, um, how have you been?" Lando finally breaks the silence, his voice hesitant.

You sigh, a mixture of relief and sadness flooding through you. "I've been okay, I guess. Just trying to keep busy with work and stuff. How about you?"

He nods, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes. "Yeah, same here. Work's been keeping me pretty occupied."

You nod but hold back on mentioning that you have been following his season in Formula One, watching every race despite the ungodly hours it required you to wake up at.

The conversation falls into a comfortable rhythm as you catch up on each other's lives, sharing stories and laughter like old times. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, there's a sense of familiarity between you that refuses to fade.

Suddenly, Lando reaches into the gift bag and pulls out a neatly wrapped box, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "I, uh, got you something."

Your eyes widen in surprise as he hands you the gift. "You didn't have to," you mumble, aching to tell him that his presence was enough.

"Open it."

With trembling hands, you carefully unwrap the gift, your heart pounding in anticipation. When you finally open the box, you're met with the sight of something you've always wanted—beautiful dainty necklace adorned with smaller diamonds, one that you'd admired countless times in the store but could never bring yourself to buy.

You've been saving up for this dainty piece for a while, but never expected that Lando would give it to you as a gift.

You're speechless, unable to find the words to express your gratitude. Lando watches you anxiously, waiting for your reaction.

Finally, you manage to speak, your voice barely above a whisper. "Lando, this is... It's amazing, thank you.”

He smiles warmly at you, his eyes filled with an emotion you can't quite place. "I saw you staring at it at the store a while back, so I thought this would be the right moment to get it for you."

You're overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, by the fact that he remembered something so small yet meaningful. It's a reminder of why you fell for him in the first place.

"You know," Lando begins, his voice soft but filled with sincerity, "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately... about us."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, uncertainty mingling with anticipation in the air between you. "Oh? What about us?"

He shifts slightly on the couch, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. "I miss what we had," he admits, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken longing. "The late-night conversations, the inside jokes, the way we just... fit together."

You swallow hard, the memories of your time together flooding back with startling clarity. "I miss those things too," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando reaches out, his hand finding yours in a gesture that feels both familiar and foreign. "I know we said we'd remain friends," he says, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand, "but... I can't shake the feeling that there's still something between us. Something worth fighting for."

His words hang in the air between you, heavy with the weight of unspoken longing and uncertainty. For a moment, neither of you knows what to say, the silence stretching on uncomfortably.

He wasn't wrong, you had parted as a couple but still promised to remain friends. That promise was left unfulfilled because of your different lives taking you on different paths. It was the reason why you had broken up in the first place.

Then, you gather your courage, meeting his gaze with determination. "I feel it too," you confess, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside you. "But... I'm scared, Lando. Scared of our love not being enough for each other again."

Lando nods in understanding, his eyes filled with empathy as he squeezes your hand gently. "I know," he murmurs. "But maybe... maybe we can take things slow this time. See where it leads us."

The idea fills you with both excitement and trepidation, the prospect of rekindling your relationship mingling with the fear of repeating past events. But as you sit there together, the warmth of his hand in yours, you can't help but feel a glimmer of hope—a hope that maybe, just maybe, this time things will be different.

As the night wears on, the comforting embrace of conversation wraps around you and Lando like a warm blanket, easing the tension that had lingered in the air.

The soft flicker of birthday candles illuminates the room as he holds the cake for you, waiting for you to make a wish and blow it out.

You look at him before closing your eyes, already knowing what you want to wish for before blowing out the few lit candles in one quick breath.

You say, "I can't believe you got me a cake," as you cut into the rich chocolate cake and give him a slice on a plate before taking one for yourself.

Lando chuckles, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Of course I did. After all, what's a birthday without cake?"

You smile, the sweetness of the gesture warming your heart. "It's delicious. Thank you, Lan." The nickname easily slips from your tongue, as if you never stopped saying it, and his heart warms knowing the feeling of familiarity never died down.

As you continue to talk and laugh, the clock on the wall ticks closer and closer to midnight, marking the end of your birthday. But for now, in the glow of moonlight and the warmth of Lando's company, time seems to stand still.

Eventually, the inevitable moment arrives when Lando has to leave. You walk him to the door, the weight of the conversation earlier hanging heavy in the air between you.

Lando turns to face you, his gaze searching yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. "I don't want to rush things," he begins, his voice soft but determined, "but I also don't want to let this chance slip away."

You nod, meeting his gaze with hope, feeling the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "I don't either," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

With a gentle smile, Lando reaches out and cups your cheek, his touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you. His thumb brushes against your lips, feeling the softness he desperately wants to feel against his own lips.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, his voice still soft in fear of ruining the moment. Placing your palm on his cheek, you nod.

Without wasting another moment, he closes the gap between you, placing his lips on yours.

For a moment, the world falls away, leaving only the two of you standing there in the middle of your apartment, joined by the shimmering moonlight. As you fall back into the familiarity of his lips on yours, you realize that this is where you belong—here, in Lando's arms.

It's a kiss filled with promise and possibility, a kiss that speaks of new beginnings and endless love.

When you finally pull away, your heart is pounding in your chest, the warmth of Lando's lips lingering on yours like a sweet memory.

"I'll give you some space to think about it," he says, his thumb brushing against your skin in a tender caress. "But just know that I'm here, whenever you're ready.”

You nod, unable to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. But as you watch him leave your apartment, a smile tugs at the corners of your lips—a smile filled with hope for the future, and the possibility of love rekindled.

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @sya-skies @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @landoslutmeout @barcelonaloverf1life @megudaeggu @c-losur3 @oliviah-25 @regalbanshee

[hwaslayer]

vivrant thing (jwy) | four.

—SPOTIFY PLAYLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST

—SUMMARY: after getting into a little accident, wooyoung decides to do his sister a favor by pretending to be your date at the company summer party. as soon as the night ends, wooyoung would go back to his usual routine of hanging out with his boys, keeping his distance from committed relationships and being a typical brother to jiwoo. except, the favor comes with more than what wooyoung expects and he finds you occupying his mind more than usual. 

—PAIRING: jung wooyoung x f. reader

—GENRE: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriend’s brother au | fluff, angst, smut

—WORD COUNT: 6.2k

—CHAPTER CONTENT / WARNINGS: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, angst angst angst, accusations are being thrown, jiwoo is mean, wooyoung is angry, hongjoong tryna play peacemaker, oc is sad, crying, its kinda a mess??, some insecurities coming to surface, mentions of past relationships and wooyoung's fuckboy history

One thing you also don't expect at Jiwoo's family lunch is how incredibly tense and awkward you and Wooyoung are. Maybe you need to wake up a little more and sit with your reality, but you surely hate the feeling it brings. It's almost obvious how you both freeze at the sight of each other, the both of you trying your hardest to keep it together but avoid eye contact.

Wooyoung's first mistake was keeping you [somewhat] at a distance after the party. Truthfully, he was scared as he sorted through his thoughts— not really sure how to make sense of any of it. Even though, he knew deep down that he did have newfound feelings for you and it wasn't something he could ignore. It wasn't like anything he's felt before, and he knew it'd only grow despite him trying to push it aside to buy him more time.

Wooyoung's second mistake was leaving you that morning without saying much afterwards. Leaving you and him in limbo. Though, this was the one core moment when he could honestly and truthfully say his feelings grew for you. He was locked in, and there was no going back. He should've told you right then and there instead of making you feel like one of them.

One of his hookups, his tap-n-dash's, his toot-it-n-boot-it's. 

You were not that. He meant every word he said to you that night, and he should've fucking told you. Now, he's stuck with not knowing how to do it after some time has passed.

—FLASHBACK

Wooyoung's eyes flutter open to the sun beaming into your studio, causing him to squint and shift a bit in his position. He tries not move too much when he realizes your back is pressed against him, and he's got an arm around you. Luckily, the movements don't wake you and Wooyoung can't help but smile to himself at how tired you seem to be. He snuggles against you for a few more minutes, giving you tiny kisses on your shoulder, the back of your head. His hand gives your side a soft squeeze, and he finds that this is how he'd like to wake up every morning.

With you, in particular.

But as equally as the thought is exciting, it is also frightening. Because every moment seems to make this more and more real and he's not sure how to act. So, he freezes. Those 'few more minutes' are suddenly over, and he's slipping himself out of your bed gently. He needs time to figure out what to say and how to say it without sounding like an idiot. He slips into his clothes and finds a stack of post-its nearby, scribbling a quick note to leave on your nighstand to at least let you know he's thinking about you. He is, he truly is. He doesn't wanna rip himself off you, but he has to cause he needs time—

morning cute stuff! text me when you wake up. had to run off cause im shy and don't want you to see my morning face lol jk need to meet up with san for a workout. talk to you later! hope you slept well :)

Which, isn't entirely a lie. He does need to meet San for a workout, it's just hours later.

He darts out anyway, giving your door one last look before he heads to his car and begins his journey home. When you wake about 15 minutes after he leaves, your heart drops when you realize Wooyoung isn't behind you anymore. You were giving him the benefit of the doubt, thinking he might be locked away in the bathroom.

But, nothing.

His clothes are gone.

Wooyoung is gone.

And although the note leaves a small smile on your face, you can't ignore the way your chest tightens knowing he left in somewhat of a hurry; at least, before you could wake up. Was it because this was always how Wooyoung was? Did he really mean everything he said last night?

Or were you just like them?

The thoughts don't make it any easier on you, and you've swallowed the lump in your throat in an attempt to push the tears back. You can't help but feel hurt despite knowing how Wooyoung was. You weren't any different, and you shouldn't have relied on that. You shouldn't have gotten so comfortable, you shouldn't have opened up to him the way you did.

You were a favor to Wooyoung, nothing more, nothing less.

jiwoo: goodmorning to my baby!!!

jiwoo: sorry i didnt text you last night after dinner, we can catch up later!

jiwoo: come with me to my family lunch tomorrow? we can have a girls day after since i feel like its been so long

jiwoo: we can get our nails done and go shopping then just cry over our favorite movies!!

Then, the reality hits you even more. You're gonna have to tell Jiwoo what happened because even if you try to hide it, you're terrible at lying and Jiwoo will catch on eventually. She'll know something has changed, she'll know something has hurt you.

And you're not ready to tell her it's her own brother.

you: okay 😌 i'm down for lunch and a girls day tomorrow. i need it.

jiwoo: okay, yay! 💕 me too!! i'll pick you up around 11:30 tomorrow.

you: sounds good.

—END

"The most important people have arrived! Sorry to worry you guys. It was kinda traffic." Jiwoo says, greeting her family and San.

"No one asked." Wooyoung glares at her before making a face while she hugs him tightly. "Get off." He whines when she doesn't pry her arms around her brother right away, making her giggle mischievously. When she finally lets go and moves onto San, Wooyoung shifts his attention to you.

"Hey Y/N." He says with a pursed smile, bringing you in for a one-armed hug that feels forced and too stiff.

"Hi." You softly respond, avoiding all eye contact. It sucks, it sucks, it sucks. You didn't end up texting him that morning. As much as you wanted to, you didn't wanna look sad and desperate even though you longed for Wooyoung's company. You spent time with your grandpa to get your mind off of it, but it was difficult. He didn't take the chance to text you either, so that told you more than you needed to know.

Sometimes silence can be the most deafening.

You scurry along to say hello to San before greeting their parents, back to hiding behind Jiwoo as you all wait to be seated.

"Where's Hongjoong?"

"Not here because it's a girls day after this." Jiwoo links her arm with yours as she follows her parents into the restaurant when they're called, Wooyoung and San following behind.

"Girls day? What are you ladies doing afterwards?" Their father asks as all of you settle at a round table. You fall in between Wooyoung and Jiwoo, of course, and you almost wanna tell his sister to switch just for your own sake.

But, you don't. You suck it up. 

You sit. He sits.

It's quiet.

Wooyoung grabs chopsticks from the center container and passes them out to his parents, San, then you and Jiwoo. He doesn't really say anything else, he can't really look at you just like you can't with him.

And all of this is so awkward for no reason.

Well, there are reasons, but it doesn't have to be this way and Wooyoung is constantly calling himself dumb for creating this divide, this distance. For making you feel this way. All he wants to do is hug you, kiss you a few times, hold your hand. Be all cute with you.

He's an idiot.

"Gonna get our nails done and go shop."

"I'm surprised Yeosang didn't come." Wooyoung pauses as he's skimming through the dim sum menu, hoping you don't catch the way his jaw slightly clenches. How he almost rolls his eyes at the sound of his name. He doesn't have a reason to dislike Yeosang at all, but he finds himself getting irked knowing that Yeosang has feelings for you. He shouldn't, though. He can't claim you like that, especially if he's being dumb and not knowing how to be upfront about his feelings properly.

"Oh, no. That probably won't happen for awhile." Jiwoo says.

"Aw, why not? Is he just busy nowadays?"

"Busy sulking." Jiwoo mutters playfully. "Didn't snag the girl of his dreams." She teases you and you roll your eyes.

"Stop that."

"He'll live." Wooyoung adds nonchalantly while him and San check off items on the list, and Jiwoo doesn't even bat an eye at the comment.

"What happened?" San whispers to Wooyoung and he furrows his brows at him. "Did Yeosang ask Y/N out or something?" But before Wooyoung can respond, his mom cuts in with the same question—

"Aw, no! Did he ask you out?" At this point, the waitress brings water and a kettle full of hot barley tea.

"Yeah, but we just decided to stay friends." You look at her so innocently Wooyoung can't fucking take it. Jesus Christ. Kinda reminds him of the other night.

"We, more like you." Jiwoo teases and you glare at her.

"Well, she was honest and I'm sure he appreciated it." Their father chimes in. "You don't ever wanna force anything, that's the number one rule." 

"If he truly values you and respects you as one of his good friends, he'll understand and won't treat you differently from before." Their mom adds. 

"That'll be awkward for them." San says lowly to Wooyoung just as he hands the checklist off to the waitress in passing.

"He's a grown ass man, he'll get over it. You win some, you lose some." San furrows his brows at Wooyoung's reaction. He truly can't help but notice that his bestfriend has been on edge ever since you and Jiwoo came. He's not sure he's ever seen Wooyoung so awkward and.. weird. And he knows you're pretty shy, but you're also acting very weird and.. avoidant?

"I guess so." Is all San says.

"Is there someone else?" Wooyoung almost chokes on his water. The heat instantly rises to your cheeks and you feel somewhat suffocated from the question alone. "Jesus, Wooyoung. I told you to drink slowly." Their mom adds. 

"Mother chismosa. All up in her business." Jiwoo laughs at Wooyoung's response.

"I'm just wondering! She's like my baby, too." She furrows her brows at her son before returning to you with a smile on her face. 

"Oh, um. No. There's no one else." You pause, missing the way Wooyoung is looking at you through his peripherals. "Just thought we're better off that way."

"I see. Well, you know Y/N, the right person will come in time. Don't rush it."

"Sometimes, I wish Wooyoung could find a nice girl like you." His dad chimes in. "He is a pain in the ass, though."

"I'm sorry, I'm confused. Did we gather around over some dim sum just to get on my ass? Did I miss the agenda?" Jiwoo and San snicker.

"Stop it, you're making him embarrassed." Their mom shifts her attention back to you. "Y/N, anyway. How's Papa been?" Jiwoo pours you more tea to drink.

"He's been okay. I spent the day with him yesterday. He hasn't been feeling the greatest, though."

"Oh? Is he sick?" You shrug.

"He seemed to be fine yesterday. He just says he's more tired lately, been feeling this on-and-off dull pain in his lower back. I told him we should go to the hospital, but he doesn't think it's a big deal. He thinks he just needs to keep exercising and stretching properly."

"I see. Otherwise he's been okay?"

"Mhm." You give their parents a small, toothless smile, tugging your turtleneck sweater up when you feel everyone's eyes on you for a second. "He's the same." Underneath the material are the little marks Wooyoung left, and they've barely started to fade away.

"That's good to hear. Please bring him by soon, we'd love to see him again." You nod.

"Girl, aren't you hot wearing that turtleneck?" Jiwoo tugs on the material and you kinda shimmy away from her grip.

"No, I'm okay."

"Is it just me then? Am I getting hot flashes already?" Her mom clicks her teeth and tells her to stop being so dramatic. At this point, the food is rolled in and placed on the table like a game of tetris. Everyone automatically digs in, passing food along until everyone's satisfied with their first serving. Usually by now, Wooyoung has at least teased you one way or another, cracked a joke or poked fun at you. That's how he typically is with you. Today, you're seeing a very different side of him, and you're not sure what you did wrong.

When you finish your food, you try to reach over for another piece of dimsum but it's a little further out than expected. Suddenly, Wooyoung grabs a few pieces and places it on your plate— still not making any eye contact with you.

He's so confusing.

You're not sure if you want it to be like this.

You quickly decide that you don't. You don't want to be this way with someone, you don't want someone to ever be unsure of you. You don't want someone to make you feel the slightest bit of doubt. Which, is crazy to think about. Because Yeosang could've been that person, but you were too busy wanting Wooyoung. You were too busy having feelings for Wooyoung, and even though you still feel guilty about the whole thing with Yeo, there was no way you could've forced yourself to feel a certain way.

Wishful thinking, perhaps?

At least, now you know, and you'll never allow yourself to do that shit ever again.

You continue to eat and engage in small conversation with Jiwoo and her parents, Wooyoung and San mostly in their own world together off to the side. He was seemed to be fine with San, and you don't know if you made it worse for you. You tried to push it to the back of your head, trying to tell yourself that you shouldn't feel this way. That you didn't need to be so hung up over Wooyoung. That you didn't do anything wrong.

Still hurts, though. You wonder if he'll ever talk to you again or bring it up.

When lunch is over, their parents pay for the bill and leave a hefty tip, passing out the little candies that were brought over with the receipt. Jiwoo quickly shuffles you away, thanking her parents for lunch before taking you down the street to a popular nail shop for your appointments. 

The nail shop is as busy as it gets on a Sunday, but you don't wait long before you and Jiwoo are seated at the spa chairs for the pedicures. Jiwoo starts to tell you about how her and Hongjoong are going on a last minute trip to Japan and that you were welcome to come along if you wanted. You've gone on little trips with Jiwoo and Hongjoong before, and they've never made you feel like a third wheel. But, you wonder when you'd get to go on trips with your own special someone, your person.

Would this change things in the future? When Jiwoo and her family invite you on their trips?

Would this change everything?

It makes you feel like you really should've thought about your decisions before letting things escalate that night. Everything feels like a hard ass lesson, and you hate it. Everything is reminding you of your recklessness, of how you relied so much on the way Wooyoung treated you at the party. You can't say you regret it though, but it's starting to feel like a mistake.

When you politely decline and tell her to have fun with her boyfriend, another tech comes to work on your hands, beginning your gel manicure while the other tech continues with your pedicure.

"Has Yeosang texted you?" You shake your head.

"No." You sigh. "We probably won't be the same for a bit. He did say he needed time."

"I'm sorry." Jiwoo looks at you with a small pout. "He'll be okay, though. I know he cares about you regardless."

"And I care about him, too. I just want us to be okay."

"Are you sure you don't wanna come with us? Leave this place for a few days. Work won't care if we're both off last minute, we have enough team members to cover." You chuckle.

"I'm good. Promise."

"What do you wanna do after? Should we shop, then pick up some takeout so we can watch our movies?"

"Sure. I do need to buy some new clothes. I haven't spoiled myself in a bit." She gasps dramatically.

"Same."

"You went shopping when we bought our dresses."

"And that was awhile ago." She shrugs. "I'm on the lookout for this thick zip-up jacket. My brother has one and I keep taking it from him. He keeps getting mad." You don't respond. "I hate to say it, but Wooyoung has taste. Sometimes."

"Hm." You hum.

"Did you notice Wooyoung being all quiet today? It's not like him."

"I guess so."

"Well, he was quieter than usual. It's so unlike him."

"Why don't you ask?"

"Because my brother won't say a thing. I could tell him all my problems, but he won't tell me most of his. You know this. I dunno if it's some kinda façade or front to maintain this strong, older brother image. I know things bother him, but I also know a lot of things don't. It's difficult to read him." Ain't that so, you think. He is terribly hard to read.

"Do you think it's over a girl?" You awkwardly ask, looking to see what her reaction is.

"Wooyoung sulking over a girl? I doubt it. I haven't seen him do that since him and his exes broke up, and that was years ago. I'm convinced stuff like this isn't worth it to Wooyoung anymore. I haven't seen him be different around anyone."

"Oh." 

"Yeah, well. Whatever. I'm sure he'll get over it."

"Yeah, I think so." You respond softly, which Jiwoo kinda catches on. She sees how quiet you've gotten and how you've managed to hide back in your shell— you probably tried not to make it so obvious, but as your bestfriend, it's easy to pick up on your switches, too.

It is a little odd, but she won't bother. She just wants to have a good girls day with you.

After the nail appointment, the both of you make your way down to the biggest mall in town to shop, especially for her trip. You find a few new outfits, one you can't wait to wear out and flaunt. Wooyoung briefly comes to mind, but you shake it off and correct yourself— because no, you're excited to wear and flaunt the new outfits for yourself. 

No one else.

You were genuinely happy for the first time today. You felt good about yourself.

Until tonight comes, and all of that goes out the window rather quickly.

When you get back to Jiwoo's apartment, the both of you are pretty exhausted from the long day being out and about. It's a little past 6pm when you drag yourselves in. You take a quick shower and wind down for the evening, changing into comfier clothes that you've packed in case you wanted to spend the night at Jiwoo's. You lay out the food on the living room coffee table while Jiwoo takes her shower. You've already decided on a lineup of movies tonight: Brown Sugar, The Wood, Love and Basketball. As you wait for Jiwoo to be finished, you scroll through your phone to see if there's been any new updates, new texts.

Nothing.

Though, you've noticed Wooyoung has posted on his Instagram story. You're not usually one to peep, but you are curious; you can't help yourself. For the most part, they're just random photos of the city, San. There are two photos that do catch your eye and you're not sure if Wooyoung meant to post this for a particular reason or just cause. The first photo that catches your eye is an old vintage poster of Spirited Away. It's alongside other vintage Studio Ghibli posters, but he posted this one in particular. The second photo is of the view. You remember that Wooyoung goes there to clear his mind. You wonder if San tagged along.

"What a day!" Jiwoo comes out of the bathroom, hair still damp. She rushes over and plops next to you on the floor in front of the coffee table and TV, sending Hongjoong a quick text. "Ready, babe?"

"Mhm." You nod, the both of you popping your lids to your bowls open as the movie begins. "Thank you for today."

"Of course, are you kidding?! I love a good girls day with my bestfriend." She smiles at you, digging into her food. You swallow the lump in your throat when the truth settles in the pit of your stomach, almost making you lose your appetite completely. She gives your arm a good squeeze. She's so happy— you can't believe you're gonna be the reason why all of that changes. You needed to be honest with her, if not yourself. 

Because what happened, happened. There was no going back to change it.

You give it a good hour or so, making sure the both of you have finished your food and are satisfied while you sit in your thoughts and determine it's probably a good time to talk to Jiwoo about everything. The night has settled, the climax of the movie has passed. You don't wanna wait too long, and you feel like you shouldn't; somehow hoping it'll lessen the damage, lessen the blow.

"Jiwoo." You poke her arm softly.

"Yeah?"

"Can we talk?"

"Sure, of course." She looks at you with concern, pausing the movie. "What's up, babe?"

"You know the other night, when I had dinner with Yeosang?"

"Mhm."

"There were other things I didn't get around to telling you."

"Did something else happen with him?" You look at her and you already feel the impending breakdown ready to take over in about 0.5 seconds.

"N-no. Not Yeosang." You physically shrink as you try to gain the courage to continue on.

"Huh?" Silence. "What is it, Y/N? What're you hiding from me?"

"I-I—" You feel tears welling up in your eyes. "Your brother. I meant to text you while I was drinking at the convenience store, but I accidentally texted your brother. He ended up swinging by and he walked me back home. A-and—" You pause, tears now slowly streaming down your cheeks and they seem to keep coming even with you constantly wiping them away.

"And, what?" Quite frankly, she knows where this is going. Jiwoo just doesn't wanna believe it. But, she has no choice when you hit her with the:

"We hung out for awhile, and things went further."

"Further as in?" You start to cry a little more. "Further as in.. what, Y/N?"

"Things just escalated so quickly, I'm—"

"Escalated? Did you sleep with my brother?" She's in utter disbelief and her tone says it all. She doesn't even need to hear a verbal response from you because your face completely gives it away.

"Jiwoo, I'm sorry. Things just happened and—"

"My brother? Out of all people? Was that why you were so quiet today?" More silence. "Y/N, what were you thinking?! He's no good for you! All he's gonna do is hurt you like he does with every girl that gets tangled up with him. He doesn't care, he's—" She stands as she keeps going, but you aren't hanging onto one word she's saying. You just wanna get this over with, you just wanna get away. You don't wanna hear what you already know. It's your fault; she told you so. You should've known.

"Jiwoo." You plead with your eyes, hoping she stops. It doesn't make anything better, and you feel like a child getting scolded.

"What did he say to you?" She pauses. "What did he say to you? Did he say some sweet shit to get into your pants or what? Were you really that naive?"

"Jiwoo, enough. Please." You cry. "He didn't have to say anything to me, things just happened and it wasn't just Wooyoung. I played a part in this, too." You're not really sure why you're explaining it the way that you are, but you feel as if you have no choice at this point.

"Yeah." She says, almost mockingly. "So, what now? Has he even talked to you after that?" You shake your head pathetically and your tears fall even more. "Exactly, I thought so. Because that's who he is, Y/N. I thought you knew that! He's not gonna change. Now you're here crying over him like the rest of them usually do!" You cry harder, feeling like you're about to be shoved in a corner for timeout. "You can't tell me you actually have feelings for him." She scoffs.

"I'm sorry." Is all you say. What you're sorry for, you're not sure. For yourself? For how things quickly unfolded? For having feelings for her brother?

All of the above?

"Did he even tell you he had feelings for you? Did he tell you anything before he ran off and got what he wanted from you?" You shake your head. "Unbelievable." She grabs her keys and her purse. "You should go."

"I'm sorry. I thought—"

"Please, Y/N. I need some time to process this."

"Where are you going?"

"To my brother's. Quite frankly, I can't look at the both of you right now, but I need to talk to him." You shake your head.

"It's not gonna change anything."

"It's not, but he also deserves to hear it since you're here crying in my living room about it." She furrows her brows in deep disappointment before giving you one last look. "Thought you knew better than that." She turns on her heel and leaves you in her living room. You cry, and you cry. You cry that you don't even know what you're crying over, what you're feeling hurt over.

You cry because one bestfriend is mad at you, and the other bestfriend needs his time away from you.

You cry because you have feelings for Wooyoung.

You cry because you feel so naive and stupid for admitting it, for going along with everything.

Were you wrong for feeling the way you do over him?

You quietly clean up and gather your things, sadly throwing the duffle bag over your shoulder as you lock her door from the inside and walk out. Your head hangs low when you start to walk to the nearest bus stop, taking the long way back home so that you can clear your mind and stop by Papa's apartment on the way over. Honestly, you don't blame Jiwoo for acting the way she did. You knew she was very protective of you, and you knew she was coming from a good place. You kinda just wish everything went down a little differently.

So, you continue quietly. Tears streaming down. Phone tucked away and on silent. Shutting down and ignoring the rest of the world like you always do when things go awry.

"Baby, don't you think you should just simmer down first before talking to your brother?" Hongjoong says over the bluetooth in her car.

"Simmer down for what? I can't believe he'd do that to her."

"Well, you don't really know if he actually had bad intentions. It does take two to tango. You ever think maybe, he's always had it for her and just never realized until he had to be her date? He probably needed the time. I don't think Wooyoung would mess around with Y/N like that."

"Kim Hongjoong. Aren't you supposed to be on my team right now?"

"I am, that's why I'm trying to tell you this is probably not a good idea."

"He was wrong, okay! She's naive, he knows that." She groans, causing Hongjoong to sigh.

"There were better ways to go about it, sure. I just don't think he's intentionally trying to hurt her like you think he is."

"I'll hang up in 5 seconds, Hongjoong." He clicks his teeth.

"Where is Y/N anyway? Thought you two were having a girls day."

"We were until she dropped all of this on me. She's probably on her way home."

"Why did you just leave her?"

"Because I'm angry and I can't deal right now."

"Then, go back home. You can yell at your brother any day, but you shouldn't leave her."

"I'll call you later. I'm at Wooyoung's."

"Jiwoo—" But before Hongjoong can say anything else, Jiwoo is ending the call and shutting off the car. She slams the driver's door and heads into the lobby, furiously pressing the elevator button to bring her up to the 6th floor. When she gets off and heads to his door, she repeatedly knocks until she hears shuffling on the other end.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" Jiwoo storms into Wooyoung's apartment as soon as he swings the door open. He knew this would happen at some point— he just didn't think it'd be tonight, exactly.

"You really don't have to yell—"

"My bestfriend!? Why would you sleep with her! She's not one of your fucking girls to toy around with, Wooyoung!" He's actually appalled at the way Jiwoo is coming at him right now. Most of the time, he can handle her. Today is just one of those days where he can't, and he feels himself losing it a lot quicker due to the sensitivity of the subject. He hates how Jiwoo looks at him this way, and he hates how she's so quick to badmouth him, especially when it comes to you.

What if he truly, truly cared about you?

"No one said she was!" Wooyoung matches her tone and San is awkwardly sitting off to the side, unsure of what to do. He didn't think he'd ever hear it this way, let alone didn't think Wooyoung would ever sleep with his sister's bestfriend. It wasn't a secret that Wooyoung thought you were cute, attractive. He just never crossed those lines because he didn't think he should, especially with the way he had tendencies to be a dick.

San is so unsure of how to take all of this.

Did Wooyoung just cave after the party? Did he plan for this to happen? How did he even get you to do all that with him?

"What else can I call it? Why would you take advantage of her—"

"Slow your fucking roll, Jiwoo. I never said I was just using Y/N for anything, nor do you have the right to assume that." Wooyoung says seriously. It's true, and he finds himself hurt at the wild accusations Jiwoo is spewing out. He wasn't always good, but he wasn't entirely bad. He's made some terrible decisions and acted poorly in certain situations, but he never failed to  learn from his mistakes and be the bigger person about it. He'd be honest, and in the end, he would never let his pride win just to get away with it.

"What am I supposed to think with your amazing track record?"

"I don't care if I made some mistakes or fucked around in the past, you don't get to say all that just because you're angry."

"All of a sudden you're good and pure when it comes to Y/N." She groans. "I swear to god, Wooyoung. The favor was supposed to be just a favor, not a window for you to add her to your roster—"

"Aye, stop while you're ahead." Wooyoung cuts her off. "You don't get to come into my space and yell at me for shit you know nothing about. Stop painting me like that, Jiwoo. I'm not this shitty person you like to think I am. For real. I don't appreciate it. You're spitting out all these crazy accusations when you have nothing but my past to refer to. I was never planning to 'put her on my roster' or treat her that way, I never meant to hurt her in any way. It's fucking wild you'd assume that."

"Then, why haven't you talked to her if you wanna claim this is different, Wooyoung?"

"Because I just need time to sort through my shit, okay! As much as I wanna talk to her, I don't know how and I'm trying to figure it out, that's all. Sorry. I'm not tryna mess this up more than I might've already done."

"You're unbelievable." Jiwoo glares at him. "Do you have feelings for her or not? It's a simple yes or no. Stop dragging it out so unnecessarily—"

"No. We're not doing this right now."

"Wooyoung!"

"I don't care! That's not for you to decide, so don't push it." He says sternly. "I'm not answering your question cause we're not talking about this right now, not when we're both angry. We're gonna go in circles like we always do and we're not gonna get anywhere. So no, I'm not saying anything to you, especially until you stop yelling and accusing me of things." He glares at her. "I sure as hell hope you didn't come at Y/N this way because she didn't do anything wrong. You don't get to talk to her like that either." He pauses. "Where is she?"

"I told her to go home."

"Oh, so you left her alone just to do this? The hell is wrong with you?"

"Can't I say the same shit about you? Leaving her that morning without saying a word." She scoffs while he bites his tongue, hoping she'd leave after getting this out of her system. "I thought so. You better fix this properly." Is all Jiwoo says before she turns on her heel and slams his door shut.

"And you should fix your attitude while you're at it!" Wooyoung yells. He groans loudly and plops onto the couch with a loud sigh. "Sorry." Is all he says to San, who is still dumbfounded over the argument that just went down.

"It's all good." Wooyoung is running a hand down his face before tossing his phone onto the table and resting his head back against the couch. As much as he loves to push his sister's buttons, he doesn't enjoy it when they fight. He doesn't like it when they're heated and angry at each other. He knows she can't help but protect you [rightfully so], but he hates the way she treats him like he has zero common sense. He wouldn't do that to you, especially out of all people. 

You would never be just another girl to him.

"So, what happened exactly?" Wooyoung lets out a breath.

"It was the other night, after she had dinner with Yeosang. She meant to text Jiwoo while she was drinking at the convenience store, but she accidentally texted me. I swung by to make sure she was okay, and things just escalated that night."

"That's why you two were weird around each other today."

"Yeah, but that's mainly my fault. I ran off when I shouldn't have. I didn't talk to her the way I wanted to because I froze. I haven't really felt like this in a long time and it scared me. It's a dumb excuse."

"Woo, are you sure this isn't just a phase or something?"

"A phase?" San shrugs. "You're not serious, right?"

"I don't know. I just have to ask. I feel like you've had moments when you thought you liked someone, but it wasn't like that."

"San." Wooyoung almost looks hurt when he turns to him. His expression says all.

"Hm?" Wooyoung shakes his head.

"It's not like that at all. I-I genuinely have feelings for Y/N. I really, really like her."

"Oh." San looks at him, a mixture of confusion and concern plastered on his face. "Oh, okay. So it is like that."

"Fuck." Wooyoung groans. "I fucked up. I should've just told her. Fuck!" He repeats, now pacing around his living room. San doesn't even respond because he's not sure how to. He watches as his bestfriend runs his hand through his hair, quickly texting away before making a call.

Wooyoung's third mistake is letting this linger. Now, everyone, including you and his sister, are continuing to paint him as this bad guy; a bad guy that he has a tendency to be, had a past history of being. But, with you, he's different. He needs you to know that. He should've done this differently.

He just needs to be honest, and he knows he can't put this off any longer. It's time.

Wooyoung feels the inner panic when he tries to call you a few times, but you don't answer. He sends a few texts asking where you're at. If you're safe. If he can come see you so he can talk to you because he really needs to.

wooyoung: y/n. i know you probably don't wanna talk to me right now, but i really wanna explain.

wooyoung: i'm so sorry y/n, i fucked up. can i come see you so we can talk about this properly?

wooyoung: at least let me know if you're okay and safe if you don't wanna talk tonight.

And you see the missed calls and texts from Wooyoung. But, they're overshadowed by the missed call notifications from Papa. You barely get a chance to let it marinate, especially when you approach his apartment and all you're welcomed with is chaos.

Bright lights. 

"Papa?" You walk closer to his apartment, seeing the paramedics coming out with your grandfather on a stretcher. "Papa!" You cry, pushing your way through them to get a good look at your grandpa. He's conscious, barely clinging onto it, though. He gives you a small smile as you hold his hand and climb into the truck, sitting right by his side. He called because he needed you, and you weren't there. You weren't there because you were too busy justifying your actions to Jiwoo, you weren't there because you were too busy trying to find out how to tell her you had feelings for her brother.

You weren't there, and he's here.

Wooyoung is the last thing on your mind right now.

—TAGLIST: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @heyitsmetonid @ldysmfrst @intaksfav @wooyoungsbrat @hyukssunflower @yunhoswrldddd @gotthicbish @thespiffynerd @jaytheatiny @yoonrixx @aurorajoye @i-love-ateez

[shares-a-vest]

@steddieangstyaugust Day 7: Moonlight

wc: 792 | Rated: M | cw: Smoking

Tags: Steve Harrington Angst, Post-Coital, Aftercare (Kinda, it's more about Steve wanting aftercare), The Beemer, Hooking Up, Undefined Relationship, Angst With a Happy Ending

'Like Clockwork'

Steve shimmies to a seated position but doesn’t bother hitching his jeans up. The Beemer’s windows are all clammy and misted now, despite the clear and warm summer’s night.

He swipes a sweaty palm over the window to reveal a brilliant moonlit night cast out over the abandoned cornfield he parked in. Steve looks up at the moon, resting his head against the cool glass, turning just enough so that his flushed cheek can get some relief.

He still feels hot all over, his body still tingling with after sensations. It’s a feeling Steve has relished each and every Thursday night this summer. Sitting here, all sated and a little sleepy, his own spend drying tacky on his tummy as his partner wriggles about beside him.

No – not his ‘partner’.

Not his boyfriend, either.

Friend? Fuck buddy?

Whatever Eddie is, he is indeed, squirming about like he always does afterwards. More accurately, he is ass up as he searches in the front cab for wherever his jacket and smokes got to.

Like clockwork, he’ll offer Steve one when he finds them. And, as always, Steve will decline with a burning sensation in his throat that runs the length of the fading scar on his neck.

They’ll get dressed with great efficiency, handing each other misplaced clothes, slipping on shoes and tossing anything else aside before they get back into the front of the car. Steve will drive back into Hawkins township as Eddie fiddles with the radio dial and offers commentary about every station.

Then, he will drop Eddie home and watch him skip inside, where the guy surely offers up some excuse to his uncle as to his whereabouts.

Steve will then head home and slip in through the back door to avoid his parents. He’ll fall asleep half-undressed and wake to the sounds of his alarm clock radio with thoughts of next Thursday night. Like clockwork – like he is Marty McFly, or something.

And that’s the problem, Steve thinks as he looks up at the moon.

“A-ha!” Eddie exclaims, plopping back into position next to him and shaking the whole back seat.

He sits close enough that their bare, sweat-sheened arms touch flush together. It makes Steve tingle in a way that is the complete opposite of what happened mere minutes ago. He tears his eyes away from the bright moonlight to find Eddie reaching out, like clockwork.

Steve frowns.

“No,” he says, unable to help the way it comes out, all strained and small.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

The thing is, Steve liked it in the beginning. Maybe even loved it. And it’s not like he hadn’t done this kind of thing. He had parked out in this very field in his precious cars plenty of times. Sometimes because his parents were home. Others because every makeout spot in town was occupied.

At one point, it was part of King Steve’s famed repertoire.

And he still likes most of it. The sex. The feeling of Eddie all over him – in him. Filling him up and touching him and giving him everything until it all spills over.

Eddie tosses over his maroon polo (the move that always comes after the offer of a smoke) and Steve balls it up in his fist.

“I want to… Cuddle and... be warm.”

He hates that his voice breaks at the end of it and he hugs in on himself, twisting his shirt up with him.

And Eddie moves closer still and reaches to manoeuvre Steve’s jeans all the way up.

“We’ll go back to my house, Big Boy,” he says as a small, cheeky smile tugs at the corners of his lips when he gets to tucking Steve back into his underwear, “I’m gonna wrap you up all tight and cozy in my bed, even if I have to sneak you in through the window.”

Steve has no idea where Eddie’s pack of cigarettes got to after that. He simply tossed them aside, insisting that he drive them both back to the trailer.

They sneak inside, past Wayne who is asleep in his armchair as an episode of Dragnet plays on the television. Eddie supplies Steve with some makeshift pyjamas – loose sweatpants (black, of course) and a band T-shirt.

Steve doesn’t know the band, but he likes it anyway. Just like the way he feels as Eddie curls in close behind him, holding him tight as he positions the two of them on his cramped single bed.

He thinks he might love Eddie as the guy leans forward and presses a kiss to his cheek.

No, he does love Eddie, Steve knows as he shuts his eyes, their two intertwined bodies illuminated by the moonlight peaking in through the blinds.

[darkeunology]

♡ Dirty Little Secret ♡

Word Count: 2830

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Derek Morgan x Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ only, oral (M receiving), public sex, mentions of sexual acts

Summary: Derek has an idea of something you can do on the jet while everyone is asleep, except Spencer wakes up.

This is my first entry for the CM kink bingo 2024, this is a fic I had originally posted on an old account of mine, just in case anyone thinks it's familiar, it has been rewritten today since I wanted to rewrite my old fics and make them all better, I thought this one would fit perfectly with three prompts on my bingo card so I decided to rewrite it now. Updated bingo card here

Prompts used: Friends with benefits, Caught in the act, Oral

CM Kink Bingo Masterlist

The jet was quiet, a far difference from how the jet was on the way to Texas, with everyone talking about the case before you arrived; now that the case was solved and the unsub in cuffs, the jet ride back was silent, only the noise of people breathing quietly as they caught up on the sleep that they had been desperately lacking the past few days. Well, everyone except you and Derek. The two of you were sitting together on the sofa, your head resting on his shoulder as his arm was wrapped tightly around yours, his thumb stroking the bare skin of your shoulder, his lips every so often moving to place a chaste kiss on your head. 

 The two of you weren’t dating, it had never really been a discussion of the two of you actually becoming official, even if sometimes that was what you wanted, however, right now, the two of you were simply friends with benefits, whenever one of you would need some form of stress relief, the other was willing to help - initially it started out innocent, just going to each other’s places to watch movies or play some video games, but it slowly started turning sexual. Starting with making out with Derek on his couch after one particularly tough case, to Derek pounding into you, begging him to let you cum after another tough case. You weren’t exclusive, Derek had told you a number of times that you were more than welcome to find someone else and end this arrangement whenever you wanted, and you told him the same, but neither of you found yourselves wanting to pursue anything different; you were addicted to each other, addicted to the little sighs, the touches, the kisses, the moans, everything about each other. Both of you swore to the rest of the team that there was nothing going on between the two of you, you were simply good friends; the team never believed you both. They would see the way you would both look at each other, the hugs that would sometimes last a beat too long for most friends, the way that your hands would linger on each other, the signs were subtle, but they were there. 

-

Derek and you were simply just whispering amongst yourselves, talking about everything and anything you could think of, just trying to keep your minds occupied, neither of you really able to sleep after the many days of this case. Derek quickly looked around the jet, checking to see if everyone truly was asleep, his gaze finishing once he’d checked that Spencer, who was sitting opposite the two of you at the tabled seats, was also asleep, the realisation made the man smirk at you. He moved slightly so that his lips were now at your cheek, placing sweet kisses there, you moved to give him better access, “You know something I’ve wanted to try with you for a while now?” He asked, a teasing tone clear in his voice as his lips trailed down to your jaw,

You hummed lightly, prompting Derek to keep talking, you gasped at Derek’s lips now right by your ear, whispering seductively, “I’ve always wanted you to give me a blowjob whilst everyone’s asleep around us.” his teeth grazed your earlobe, forcing a shiver out of you, 

“Fuck.” you mumbled, not meaning for Derek to hear the desperation in your voice, but he did. 

“You like the idea of someone waking up to see your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock, don’t you sweetheart?” he asked, the amusement clear in his voice as one of his hands moved down to your thigh, squeezing it harshly, he loved the way you were squirming under his touch. His cock hardened in his jeans at the thought of you on your knees for him. Derek noticed you hadn’t answered him, he moved his hand to your throat, squeezing at the sides lightly, just enough to hitch your breathing, a small whimper spilling past your lips, “Answer me honey.” he demanded, his voice still quiet to not wake anyone. 

Shakily, you nodded your head, arousal pooling in your belly at the thought, “Yes, yes I want that.” you stumbled, causing Derek to take his hand away from your throat, moving it to the back of the couch, sitting with his arms spread out, waiting for you to start. 

“Good girl.” He smirked, knowing what those two words always did to you, his body slouched down in the seat slightly, his legs opening wider. He raised an eyebrow at the fact you hadn’t yet moved, “You know what to do honey.” he spoke cockily, watching with hunger in his eyes as you slid off the sofa, taking your place on your knees in front of him, your body fitting between his legs perfectly, almost as if you were made to be down here. Your hands reached out to his zipper, eagerly pulling it down, Derek helped you get his jeans and boxers off enough so that you could release his hardening cock. Instinctively, you clenched your thighs together. No matter how many times you’d seen Derek’s cock, it always amazed you every time, he was the perfect size to fill you perfectly. 

His cock was begging for attention, so you started with just your hands, gripping his cock in one hand, you slowly started moving your hand up and down, twisting your wrist slightly as you did so, going slow enough to just tease him, “Don’t tease.” he muttered out, his eyes looking down at you, a warning look in them. Looking up at him through your eyelashes, you leaned forwards, licking a strip up his cock before circling his head, collecting his pre-cum on the tip of your tongue, he groaned lightly, his head falling back on the couch as you wrapped your lips around him fully, your head sinking down as far as you could without gagging, knowing that you needed to be quiet. 

Derek moved his hands to your head without looking back down at you, beginning to thrust his hips ever so slightly, also being cautious of going too deep since he didn’t want you to wake everyone up with your gagging. He threw his head forwards as you began hollowing out your cheeks, your mouth working faster. Instead of looking down at you, his eyes met Spencer, who was now awake, his eyes trained on watching you on the floor, watching the way you were taking Derek’s cock perfectly. 

He hadn’t woken up immediately, but Spencer tended to be quite a light sleeper, so when he heard the mumbles of you and Derek talking he started waking up, turning his head slightly and having to take a double look to believe what he was seeing in front of him. If he was being honest with himself, he’d always had a crush on you, pretty much from the moment you’d joined the BAU, he’d thought your intelligence and charisma was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He never had the courage to try anything with you or let you know how he felt about you, and when the rumours started about you and Derek being just a bit too close, he gave up, hoping that it wasn’t true, but from what he was watching now, he couldn’t deny it anymore. He deflated slightly, knowing that he now didn’t stand a chance with you when you were Derek’s, but he couldn’t take his eyes off you, he knew he probably should before Derek could catch him staring, but he was transfixed on you, his cock stirring slightly in his jeans, imagining that you were on your knees for him instead of for Derek. 

“You’re doing so well for me babygirl. Taking my cock so well.” Derek spoke, only slightly louder than last time, just loud enough that he knew Spencer would be able to hear him - which he did. His eyes snapped up to Derek’s which were looking directly at him. Spencer thought he’d be angry, but the only expression in Derek’s eyes were lust and amusement as he sent a wink in Spencer’s direction, that, in Spencer’s eyes, was permission enough that he could keep watching, his hands gripping his thighs tightly, teasing himself as he watched your head bob up and down on Derek’s cock. 

Spencer resisted the urge to touch himself, not wanting to do with Derek watching, embarrassed enough that he’d been caught watching you and was hard from watching. His eyes constantly flicked between you on the floor and watching Derek and the way he would moan quietly, the way Derek would look down at you with so much love and lust in his eyes as you worked. Derek was doing the same, looking down between you and looking back at Spencer, watching as the young genius was so pent up from watching. 

Derek smirked to himself as a thought formed in his mind, thrusting his hips up quicker, his grip in your hair tightened, pushing you on his cock quicker “Go on baby, I’m so close. You’re doing such a good job for me.” he groaned quietly. You hummed around his cock, pushing him over the edge. His hips stuttered as he came into your mouth, his cock twitching, he kept thrusting his hips slowly, drawing out his orgasm. You moaned around his cock as his cum filled your mouth, swallowing it as you pulled your mouth off his cock, using your thumb to collect what had spilled out your mouth, chuckling as Derek groaned above you. 

You sat back on your heels, your breathing slightly ragged, you looked up at Derek who was smirking again, you being still blissfully unaware of the second set of eyes plastered on you. “You’re such a good girl for me.” Derek praised you, leaning forwards to catch your lips with his, kissing you fervently, his tongue pushing into your mouth, claiming you as his in front of Spencer. He pulled away after leaving another short, chaste kiss to your lips, quickly looking around the rest of the jet to ensure you hadn’t woken anyone else up, which thankfully, you hadn’t. His eyes ran back over to Spencer for a split second before looking back down to you, his eyes full of mischief. “Why don’t you go and give pretty boy over there the same treatment.” he spoke, nodding towards where Spencer was sitting across from you. 

Eyes widening, you whipped your head round, watching as Spencer’s face turned red after being called out by Derek, he looked away from you. You didn’t need to be told twice by Derek as you stood from the floor, your steps wobbly for a second after being on the floor for so long, Derek quickly tapped your backside, urging you to move quicker. You took the few steps over to where Spencer was sitting, kneeling down in the seat next to him, one hand going to the curls on his head, running your hand through them lightly, “Do you want me to help you relax, Spence?” you asked, not doing anything until Spencer told you that you could.   

Spencer whimpered slightly, giving a feeble nod as his eyes moved back to you, one hand coming to your waist, leaving a feather-like touch there, almost like he was scared that you would disappear if he touched you too hard, “I need to hear you, Spence.” you told him, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Please.” he whispered, nodding again, more confidently this time. 

“Okay then, pretty.” you spoke, using your hand to turn his face, allowing you to place your lips on his, sharing a slow, almost tentative kiss. You pulled away first after a moment, chuckling lightly as Spencer followed your lips. Giving him another chaste, quick kiss, you moved onto your knees, slipping down onto the floor, your body concealed by the table above you. You placed your body in between his legs, your hands running up his thighs causing him to shiver slightly, your hand hit his clothes erection, pressing down slightly causing Spencer to whimper again. 

You looked up at Spencer as you started pulling his jeans down, “Lift your hips for a second honey.” you spoke lightly, moving his jeans and boxers down as he lifted his hips to help you. The size of his cock happily surprised you, he wasn’t as big as Derek was, but he was still well endowed, enough to have you rubbing your thighs together again, your own arousal tortuous to you. Spencer didn’t need to get any harder, he was already hard enough just from watching you with Derek, you pumped your hand around his cock only a few times before licking a stripe from the bottom to the top, collecting his pre-cum on the tip of your tongue, the exact same way you did with Derek. You wasted no time with sheathing him inside of your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat instantly. You bobbed your head up and down, slowly to begin with, until you had Spence begging above you. 

Spencer was a lot louder than Derek had been, his moans and whimpers almost too loud. Derek had sorted himself out and moved over to sit next to Spencer, placing his thumb in his mouth, giving him something to suck on to keep him from waking the rest of the team up. Derek didn’t really fancy having to explain this to everyone. “You need to be quiet pretty boy. You don’t want everyone to wake up do you?” he asked. Spencer nodded his head, moaning a bit quieter around Derek’s thumb, which he kept inside his mouth, “Good boy” Derek mumbled, his lips going to Spencer’s neck, biting and sucking to leave a mark that Spencer would cover with a scarf when getting off the jet.  Derek moved away from his neck for a moment to look down at you, “Don’t tease him honey, I think he deserves a treat, don’t you?” he asked you. 

Humming around Spencer’s cock in affirmation, you started moving your head quicker, taking Spencer’s cock almost all the way down. One of Spencer’s hands was fisted in your hair, helping bob your head up and down, the other was on Derek’s thigh, squeezing tightly. You knew Spencer was close as his cock started twitching in your mouth, his body being pent up for too long watching you earlier. 

Derek could tell that Spencer was close too as his moans started getting too loud again. Spencer looked towards Derek, lust taking over his eyes as he whimpered around Derek’s thumb, his eyes flicking down to Derek’s lips. Derek quickly took his thumb out of Spencer’s mouth, replacing it with his lips, kissing him aggressively, allowing Spencer’s moans to be swallowed by his mouth, muffling him enough as he came into your mouth, his lips struggling to be able to kiss Derek back, the kiss was all teeth and tongue, but it was able to keep Spencer quiet, he was under the control of the both of you, he would do anything either of you asked him to do. You hummed as Spencer’s hips stopped thrusting, your mouth moving off of him,looking up at Spencer and Derek who were still kissing, Spencer now able to kiss him back a lot better, tucking Spencer away, you made your presence known under the table again causing the men to break away from each other.

“C’mere honey.” Derek murmured, his hand reaching down to help you get up from under the table, you groaned slightly as your knees cracked as you stood. Carefully you draped yourself over Derek’s legs, your legs resting on Spencer’s, his hands coming to grip your thighs, keeping you planted on him, Derek’s coming to wrap around your waist, holding you close to him. 

“If Spence is up for it,” Derek started, looking towards Spencer for a second before moving his attention back to you, “We’ll take him home with us and give you a little reward for being so good for us.” he finished. You looked towards Spencer waiting for his reaction first, 

“God yes.” he chuckled, his mind running wild with what was going to happen once the three of you got off the jet. 

“I’m in.” you spoke after Spencer, giving Derek a quick kiss on the lips. 

The team didn’t question when they woke up to the sight of you draped over Derek with your legs on Spencer, they figured you three had stayed up talking and you decided to get comfy. They did question, however, when the three of you were the first off the jet, almost rushing off, and they definitely questioned when they saw a blatant hickey on Spencer’s neck that certainly wasn’t there when they first got on the jet.

[puckinghischier]

Boyfriend!Nico Headcanons

these pics are gonna get me everytime, i fear

just some soft nico thoughts floating around in my noggin. enjoy :)

-

- boyfriend!nico coming home from morning skate and tiptoeing into your room, careful not to wake you so he can lay back down and nap with you

- boyfriend!nico waking up about an hour later to an empty bed, huffing because you didn’t wake him up, only for you to walk in the room wearing one of his t-shirts carrying two cups of coffee, a grin breaking out on his face

- boyfriend!nico suggesting you both shower together, even though he showered at the rink, simply because he loves when you wash his hair (and so he can use your products so he can smell fruity like you do)

- boyfriend! nico asking girls that approach him when he’s out with the team or on the road where they get various parts of their outfits/jewelry because he can’t stop thinking about how good you’d look in them, writing every store down in his notes app so he can take you there the next time you two go shopping

- boyfriend!nico who looks for you in the stands of every home game during warm-ups, needing to know you’re there watching before puck drop because he swears you’re his good luck charm, but also looking for any and every reason to impress you when he’s on the ice

- boyfriend!nico who buys you a custom jersey with his name and number on it, but with small four leaf clovers embroidered on each sleeve so everyone knows you’re his good luck charm, not the team’s

- boyfriend!nico who enlists jack’s help in surprising you with the golden retriever puppy you’ve been begging Nico to agree to adopting, making the poor kid drive three hours one-way to pick up the dog and then sneak the puppy into your shared apartment so Nico can keep you distracted and occupied, wanting to see your face when you open the door and the little furball comes running towards you

- boyfriend!nico who rushes through every post game interview he can because all he wants to do, win or lose, is go home and watch whatever current netflix show you’ve roped him into while eating whatever take-out you were in the mood for that night

- boyfriend!nico putting you on speaker in the locker room before games because the team overheard one of the pre-game pep talks you gave him earlier in the season, so now they all like to hear your encouraging words and how well you inspire each and every one of them to play their best (what jack refers to as your mrs. cap duties)

- boyfriend!nico who has to explain to his teammates why he can’t bring you along to every event the team has to go to because you have your own job and responsibilities, only for the team to whine and grumble about how nico hogs you and they never get to see you (just for him to facetime you halfway through the event so he can pass his phone around for everyone to say hi a few of them asking you to blink three times if nico was holding you hostage)

- boyfriend!nico who arranges for flowers and various treats to be delivered to your door every. single. day. that he’s gone during the season so you know he’s still thinking about you and he misses you, even if he only leaves for a day or two

- boyfriend!nico who listens to the playlist you’ve made for him anytime he’s traveling because he loves hearing whatever new song you’ve found that day that reminds you of him

- boyfriend!nico who begs you to take a bath with him because he’s so sore from a nasty hit earlier in the night and wants to just relax with you and your peach smelling bubble bath with one of your vanilla scented candles burning (but he’ll never admit he loves your sweet, scented candles)

- boyfriend!nico who will always trade a puck or a stick for anything that a fan brings as a gift for you, heart swelling seeing that the fans love you as much as he does

- boyfriend!nico who always wears a wrist full of friendship bracelets you make for him at warmups so he can trade them with the female fans that bring handmade bracelets for the players, so “they always feel included and welcomed at the games, despite what the grumpy old men have to say about it”

[echobx]

Private Chef Maybank - JJ Maybank × fem!reader

summary: JJ makes you breakfast in bed, but your pancakes have a special ingredient

word count: 556

warnings: cumplay, cooking with cum

author's note: idk alright, I just- genuinely, I have no clue

kinktober masterlist

When JJ wakes up early, it's like a blessing in disguise. Either he ends up waking you up by eating you out, or he’s occupied in the kitchen preparing you breakfast in bed. And this time isn't unlike any other that this has happened. JJ groans while waking, his head pressed into the pillow next to yours, the only difference being that you are still fast asleep after what he put you through the night before. He hates waking up first, but he doesn't let it get to him when it means being allowed to gaze at your naked body for as long as he wants- as long as you stay asleep, basically. He observes how your stomach and chest rise and fall with every shallow breath; how your eyes move behind closed lids in whatever dream you are experiencing at that moment; how sweet and innocent and adorable you look, while you really aren't like that all too much. JJ could watch you for hours, but his ears perk at the low grumble that comes from your belly, telling him you'll wake up soon, and he really doesn't want you to have to get up and do basically anything while you're trying to recover from last night. 

You wake with a kiss to your cheek and the sweet smell of pancakes in your nose. “Morning,” you hum, batting your lashes to adjust to the bright sunlight that fills the room. “Good morning, baby.” JJ gives you a chaste smile. “I made breakfast.” He steps back and lets you observe the tray he has set down next to your legs. “Looks delicious,” you smile and sit up, taking the tray onto your lap. The pancakes are sweet and fluffy, just how you like them, but after you take your first bite you notice that JJ is eyeing you curiously. “Something wrong?” you ask him and he smiles. “All good. How's it taste?” “Better than usual,” you nod, taking another bite. “Did you change something?” “Didn't have any eggs,” he says, watching you swallow another bite, but your eyebrows furrow on their own. “You can't make pancakes without eggs,” you mumble, slowly looking up at him. “What did you put in there, J?” “Something special,” he shrugs, but the cocky grin on his face won't be wiped off for some time. You sigh, closing your eyes for a second to collect your thoughts before you look at him again. “Please tell me you didn't use what I'm right now thinking you did.” “Okay, I won't.” “JJ!” you gasp, pushing the tray off to the side and get up. “Why would you even think of that?” “I heard you could substitute eggs with a lot of different things,” he says and pulls you into him. Your hands are perched on his chest, scrunching up his shirt between your fingers as you peer up at him. “That means bananas or other normal things, not cum!” “You said they were better than usual,” he reminds you, and your head falls to his shoulder. “That was before I knew what you did,” you whine, and he rubs over your back trying to comfort you. “It's not that different from how you usually take it,” JJ says, and you push him off you, taking a step back and pouting. “You're the worst.” 

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24 @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi

[myillicitaffair]

Somethin’ Stupid | Charles Leclerc

Summary: while being interviewed by his former lover, bottled up feelings find their way out.

Warnings: english not being my mother tongue, lots of angst, some swearing, arguments.

Notes: this is the first time i’m ever posting anything on here, i hope you enjoy it xx

1.5k words.

Letting myself fall into his abrasive webs was surprisingly easy. His green orbs, pervasive and curious, piercing my soul.

We had our ups and downs, unbridled passion slowly dying with each tear shed, magnetic attraction burning my lungs.

We found ourselves in a hiatus, which found a way of prolonging itself further than I would have liked to. Perhaps he managed to keep himself occupied with his busy schedule; trainings, special dietary requirements, public relations… as for me, I rather hold my silence.

My routine was overflowed with his voice, with how much I missed his touch on my lower back, guiding me through the crowds, our hands intertwined in a tacit promise.

However, life demanded to continue with apparent normality. Dinner parties surrounded by friends, rounds of drinks avoiding alcohol… The last thing I needed was to degrade myself into a melancholic drunkenness.

Was he also having a hard time with the abysmal coldness on the other side of the bed or the loneliness of not having anyone to dilute your sorrow over morning coffee with?

My days had fallen into a sort of routine; waking up while missing him, showering while missing him, having breakfast while missing him… I think you get how thing are.

This particular morning, Silverstone was extraordinarily cloudy, the mist engulfing my view from the hotel room. How fitting!

Running away from my surreptitious misfortunes, I head downstairs, soaking up the competitive environment prior to every race. Emboldened as an agitated swarm, my colleges and me descended on the designated circuit.

Tedious security controls accompanied the anticipated fun, a hammer already pounding into my head at the thought of seeing him face to face once more.

Walking towards the space where the press was condensed, I check the days schedule for the last time. I am lucky enough to maintain friendly interactions with most drivers, so as to achieve fluid interviews, keeping the audience on the edge of their seats.

The only reason I can find as to why that fateful name is written on my list of drivers to interview was that God and I clearly have some unresolved business… funny timing to make me pay the price though!

A lump gets stuck in my throat just by thinking about it, preventing regular air flow.

The countdown only stuns me, even though my duty doesn’t start until the last lap. The smell of burnt rubber, product of speeding wheels, fills my lungs while intoxicating my nostrils.

The continuous lights turn red with overwhelming precision as seconds go by, lightning up the faces hidden with baklavas and iconic helmets.

Unconsciously (or maybe not so much), my eyes crawl back to the speeding number “16” that, red and furious, slides around the circuit while attempting to memorize every bump and curve along the way.

Chasing the sequence with collective looks of astonishment, a collision comes rushing down, disabling Piastri and Norris by the arrogance that only clear disagreements gives you.

Without further issues, the race concludes with a podium conformed by both Red Bull Racing drivers, trailed by seven time world champion Lewis Hamilton.

As possessed by group madness, the journalists rush into the victors. Microphone in hand, cameras shadowing us, content hunger gushing from our pores.

Driven by a exacerbated sadness, I shift my focus from the winners to him, returning my gaze with clouded tear ducts, bottled up frustration visible in his features.

With a touch on my shoulder, I’m brought back to reality by a co-worker, who, with a subtle shift of her head signals my awaiting obligations.

I head towards my press conference, where I take a seat with my name on it, psyching myself up for what I’m sure will be the most awkward interview of my whole career.

Dressed in Ferrari clothing and constantly stalked by flashes, both pilots near the platform where I await. They settle into their designated spots, holding still until the cameraman says otherwise.

I steal one last glance at my premeditated questions and hide my true feelings behind a focused frown.

“Welcome dear viewers! We find ourselves in the eleventh race of the year, accompanied once more by our friends from Ferrari, Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz.”

I desperately try stabilizing the noticeable shake in my voice.

“Friend”- the Monegasque interrupts my monologue with a mocking remark.

The puzzled look his teammate throws in his direction doesn’t go unnoticed by the former, who insists on jointing his glistening irises with mine.

I decide to ignore the brief impasse in the speech, running away from his calculated sarcasm as I force the corners of my mouth into an attempted smile.

“so, Carlos… do you think driving behind two cars that crushed ruined your performance?”- I question, tripping over my words under Charles´s scrutiny.

“It´s safe to say it wasn’t an unexpected accident”- the Spaniard pronounces, doing his best at minimalizing the awkwardness- “for at least a couple of laps, Oscar and Lando were teasing each other, clearly trying to gain advantage over the other. They were lucky enough neither of them got hurt.”

I nod absent minded, vibrating due to the pounding against my ribcage.

“Charles, what can you tell us about your engineers’ strategy for this race?”- I swallow loudly, praying he can´t notice the mesmerizing effect he has on me.

“I guess you could say I’m not entirely satisfied with my team´s execution this season”- he confesses, minimizing the tingles of frustration running down his spine- “It would also be quite unfair dumping the blame on my team when my failure has more to do with me letting my emotions get the best of me.”

The tension is intercepted by a longing sigh I didn’t know I was withholding. The world seems to stop in its euphoria simply to hang in his every sentence.

“A broken heart is no joke… even less when you have to patiently wait for the piece they decide to donate you”- he reproaches without saying my name but making it perfectly clear that I was indeed the recipient of his raw address.

My anxious movements become motionless, forgetting the when and where, just to focus on the displeasure bubbling in my stomach.

“Guys, I really don´t think it’s appropriate to discuss this now”- intercepts the Madrilenian, proposing a ceasefire.

Mi hand goes up in the air before I can help it, shutting him up mercilessly.

“I wonder where I must´ve learned it…”- I reply, drowning in the unexpected harshness of my tone- “don´t forget who was the one to suggest this ´no strings attached´ bullshit between us.”

The drivers face shines with a scandalous blush in response to my bravado. Right here and there, I comprehend the dept of his anger, making its way through his collarbones, until it climbs up his cheeks.

“Just because I thought that’s what you wanted”- he spits out his resentful response.

From the corner of my vision, I perceive Carlos´s discomfort by reading his body language; the friction of wiping away the sweat stagnant on his hands, his shoulders pouring forward in a clumsy attempt of hiding from the cameras, his chair weakly shaking under the constant bouncing of his extremities.

Madness atrophies my reasoning, blinding me enough as to not have merci on his apprehension. I took this way too far, it would be useless to swallow my feelings.

“how in the world could you think our agreement benefitted me? Really, Charles, you couldn’t be any more stupid!”- I scream back, jumping up from my seat.

The swing of my feet gets ahead of my thoughts, allowing me to run away from the premature conflict before it blows up in the air.

Mi face heats up from the warmth of my own tears, that start rolling down my cheeks. With each involuntary spasm of my jaw, sobs escape my gasps for air. I don’t dare to slow down.

“Can you please just listen to me?”- a voice behind me shouts, trying to stand by my side.

I turn around to face his scrunched up brows.

“you have nothing else left to make up. You may convince somebody with the whole ´heartbreak boy´ façade you’ve got going on, but you have genuinely driven me mad”

“You and I both now that isn’t true! Have you ever wondered why I always seem to take a step back after every show of affection?”- he manages to freeze me to the core- “How come you never noticed my excessive efforts to stay away from you? I can’t even behave like a functional human being if I’m not feeling you, touching you, having you with me.”

In the middle of the paddock, with every pair of eyes set on us, events unfold the way I’ve been dreaming of, however I can´t even react.

“I know I´m not in a position to ask you anything, but please, strip me from the torment that uncertainty means… even if that means to completely destroy me”- he whispers with renewed fragility.

My smirk slowly becomes uncontrollable laughter, reducing me to unbridled chuckles. I shelter the vestiges of my giggling in between his arm, until It ceases in its intensity.

Without noticing, I search for his lips with my own, craving the heat they irradiate.

“I think you know perfectly well how my soul aches for you”- I manage to sneak in between kisses, stumbling across his smile, displayed in all its glory.

[talesofesther]

the one who stayed

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary: For a moment, Sebastian thought he lost you, and now the guilt for what happened is eating away at him.

A/N: Yes, this is very random. I debated a lot on whether to even post this here or not, but, this Tumblr is, before anything else, a library for me to store my own works. I post everything I write here, so I figured this one shouldn't be the exception because I did like how it turned out.

Masterlist

Cold. That was all your brain could register at the moment; how the ground felt so cold underneath you.

"She's not moving."

You could hear a familiar, urgent voice right beside you. But as the seconds slowly trickled by like blood dripping from an open wound, it became increasingly hard for you to understand what exactly that voice was saying. Yet you could still register the fear laced within the tone, you could feel it in the shakiness of his hold.

Trembling hands held onto your arm, one of them slowly brushing against your skin until it found your hand.

You wished you could see his face right now. Sebastian had always been bold, confident. Though you were almost certain there would be a faint blush hidden under his freckles right now because of the intimate gesture.

But your eyes were heavy. Try as you might, you couldn't seem to blink them open. Come to think of it, your whole body felt heavy, maybe that's why you couldn't move. Even breathing was slowly turning into too much effort.

The hand holding onto your own tightened its grip.

People were talking around you. You couldn't make out any words anymore, they sounded like nothing but faint noise. The tune of his voice still kissed your ears, however; even if you couldn't recognize the words, you knew it was him. And he sounded erratic, scared. There was a tightness to it, syllables getting stuck in his throat; it was all wrong, you didn't like to hear him in this state.

A deeper voice was there too — you instantly recognized the timbre that belonged to the man who was always crushing Sebastian's hopes — and in the back of your mind, it brought anger to your chest. But there was nothing you could do anymore. Wisps of remaining magic tingled on the tip of your fingers and held your heart in a tight, hurtful grip. Maybe you'd gone too far.

A pair of rough hands then picked up your body, taking you away from the cold embrace of the catacomb's floor.

And when the blood dripping from your nose reached your lips, coating your tongue with a metallic taste, you realized that maybe you did go too far after all. Part of you could already hear the keepers berating you for rushing your abilities.

Consciousness slipped from your grasp shortly after that. Your head falling limp against someone's shoulder, and feeling a hand still holding onto yours.

—

Hogwarts' hospital wing was pretty quiet most days, only with the usual first year who scraped their elbow falling from a broom or suffering the effects of a spell gone slightly wrong. They never stayed for long though, nurse Blainey was all too used to these types of encounters.

Yet every now and then, one of the beds stays occupied for a longer period of time.

There were several beds — their metal frame and pale sheets doing little to ease the hospital vibe — one beside the other on each side of the spacious room.

You were glad to be put on one which stayed further away from the main doors; it made for more calmness this way. You had no need to engage with the unfortunate first years and could focus on leaning back and feeling the soft wisps of sunlight kissing your skin from the high window behind you.

It bothers you that you can't exactly remember how you got here. The nurse hadn't filled you with much information either; she told you an older man had brought you in, talking about a casting exercise gone wrong and you overworking yourself; she also said you remained unconscious for about 15 hours before finally waking up — pale, weak, confused.

Most of those feelings still crawled under your skin. Your body is still feeling 10 times heavier than it actually was. You wanted to get up and run off to find Sebastian but you had a nagging sensation that, if you did so now, you'd fall face-first on the floor.

The fabric of the thin blanket draped over you felt soft as you worried it between your fingers, nearly tearing it apart. The last thing you remembered was being in the catacombs, with Sebastian, and wanting to do nothing but protect him — both from himself and his uncle.

His uncle.

Could it be that he was the one who actually brought you back to school?

You doubted Sebastian would have the strength to carry you all the way back here — as much as he might fight you on that argument.

Running a hand through your hair, you pulled at the roots. Your frustration escaped with a long sigh.

The old floorboards creaked under a new weight. At first, you assumed it would be nurse Blainey coming back to check on you. But, from the side of your eye, you caught a glimpse of green, and your heart fought against your ribs, trying to escape your chest.

Sebastian stood a few feet away from your bed, though you could hardly recognize him. The brown locks of his hair were all over the place, way messier than usual; his eyes had a red tint to them, mixed with dark circles of someone who hasn't slept in a while; his usual grin was nowhere to be seen, instead replaced with a pained frown; his hands held onto his robes with a death grip.

"I heard you were awake."

His voice didn't sound like the one you had grown to love.

"How are you feeling?" The question stumbled past his lips and he avoided your eyes shortly after. He sounded as if you would yell at him to leave at any moment. It only got you more confused.

"Better, a little weak still," you bit at the inside of your cheek. This moment shouldn't feel as fragile as it does. "Care to tell me what happened?"

You didn't think your tone was harsh, but Sebastian flinched at your voice anyway. Bad memories washed over him like a bucket of icy water.

He met your gaze before hesitantly closing the distance between you, choosing to sit at the edge of your bed.

He looked worse up close. Eyes distant, trapped elsewhere.

"We were fighting against my uncle and the-" Sebastian gulped, guilt squeezing at his throat like barbed wire, "the inferi."

You acknowledged his words with a soft nod, slowly remembering things as he spoke. You pushed yourself up to sit straighter, just a couple of inches closer to Sebastian. He looked like he needed it.

The words lingered on his tongue. You never thought you'd see him this way; hesitant, lost, regretful. With tears on the verge of spilling over his freckled cheeks.

"You were trying to reason with my uncle; and me, for that matter," Sebastian chuckled halfheartedly, "trying to stop us from killing each other, when the inferi started to close on us. You didn't think twice, and all I saw were lighting strikes coming through the ceiling of the catacomb, destroying everything but us, and… you laying on the floor afterwards."

Memories were clearer now. Sebastian had attacked his uncle after he destroyed the relic and they started exchanging spells at each other while the inferi slipped from Sebastian's control. Everything could go very bad, very quickly. You remembered trying to speak with them, make them see past the anger clouding their judgment. But it was to no avail. What you remember the most, however, was seeing Sebastian so focused on his uncle, and unaware of the mass of inferi coming towards him.

You really hadn't thought twice at all. Ancient magic flowed through your veins like wildfire; it was all you could feel. The rumbling of thunder became your heartbeat. You killed each and every one of the creatures, burning out all of your energy in the process.

"And what of Solomon?" You found yourself wondering.

Sebastian pursed his lips. His eyebrows scrunched slightly as his body tensed for a moment and then relaxed again. "We stopped fighting as soon as I ran up to you. I- I begged that he'd help me bring you back to school. I'm not sure where he is now." His body shook with each intake of air. "Or Anne."

"Well, guess my plan worked after all. At least I got you to stop fighting," you tried to lighten the heavy air around you and Sebastian, mustering a teasing grin as you tilted your head to try and catch a glimpse of his eyes.

Sebastian worried his lower lip between his teeth to keep it from quivering. There was no witty remark, no ironic comment. Nothing. His tears were one blink away from spilling over.

Maybe if you listened closely, you'd be able to hear your heart shattering. For him. For this broken boy barely holding the last pieces of himself together in front of you, for this boy who stood so desperately alone in the world.

You reached out, your hand closing tightly around Sebastian's — because you couldn't bare seeing him alone one second more. Your thumb brushed against his skin. You could feel his trembling. "We'll find him, and Anne. I promise we'll figure things out, Sebastian."

He was shaking his head before you even finished speaking, squeezing his eyes shut and causing a single tear to roll down his cheek. "No, you don't understand," his broken words fell from his lips at the same time he pulled away from your touch.

"I never-" Sebastian stood up then, choking on his own breathing as he looked at you with a mix of longing and anguish. "It was never my intention to hurt you… I'm sorry," he whispered, so quietly that if the hospital wing wasn't as empty as it is, you would've missed it.

"Sebastian, you didn't-" you cut yourself off when he abruptly turned away from you and started marching towards the main doors of the spacious room, putting as much distance between you and him as he could.

The fatigue still gripping at your muscles was the last thing on your mind when you threw away the covers and stood — albeit on shaky legs — to go after him. "Sebastian, please wait," you called, grimacing as he took your heart with him.

Ultimately, you didn't go very far. Nurse Blainey stopped you in your tracks before you could even reach the middle of the room.

—

The sun rays shining through the tall stained glass windows were warm against your skin, doing little to help with your current sleepy state as you tried to at least pretend to be paying attention to class.

"It's been nearly a week, Ominis." You groaned, folding your arms on top of the table so you could lay your head down, "do you think he's mad at me for trying to stop him?"

The boy sitting beside you chuckled quietly, twirling his wand in his hands. "Darling, I don't think Sebastian could be mad at you even if he wanted to."

Before you could ask what he meant by that, Professor Binns walked by a little too close for comfort; his ghostly form sending a shiver down your body.

"He's been spending most of his evenings hiding away in the Undercroft," Ominis felt around on the table until his fingers brushed the fabric of your robes, he gently closed his hand around your wrist and squeezed comfortingly. "I believe it would do both of you some good if you went to see him."

—

It was mostly dark out already. The sky slowly filled with stars as night settled in and a soft cold breeze hung around the DADA hallways. The pristine floors reflected the image of your shoes, pacing back and forth restlessly.

You were having second thoughts. Apprehension tugged at your heartstrings because as much as you didn't want to admit it, the sight of Sebastian walking away from you so desperately that day had stung.

Though no matter how much you stalled, you knew you'd relent. The sleepless nights you've been going through lately are enough of a telltale of the effect Sebastian has on you.

A deep breath filled your lungs and you closed your eyes, pleading for your heartbeat to settle as you pushed open the door to the Undercroft.

The familiar warmth hugged you instantly. All of the candlelights dimly shining against the stone walls forced away the frown that clung to your brows. You'd never blamed Ominis for being so protective of this place, it really was the perfect hideaway.

You found Sebastian pretty quickly. He sat on the floor against the far wall to your right, knees tucked close to his chest as his wand moved delicately, making a paper bird flap its wings and fly around in front of him. The bird fell limply to the floor when Sebastian's eyes landed on you, however. You thought you saw him gulp and straighten his back too, but other than that, the Slytherin boy expressed no other reaction upon seeing you. It felt almost as if he was expecting your arrival.

Your feet were momentarily frozen to the stone floor, Sebastian's gaze burning through your soul. You also couldn't help but notice how lonely he looked, just sitting there by himself; it made your stomach turn unpleasantly. You wondered if he considered himself deserving of it.

It was as if you spoke with your eyes for a beat. You saying that if he wanted you to leave, you would. And Sebastian pleading for you to stay.

All that could be heard were your steps echoing through the Undercroft as you carefully came to sit beside him. Your shoulder just shy of touching his.

The silence wasn't a comfortable one, but it also wasn't awkward. It was just heavy. There was a tension in the air that none of you knew how to address.

Sebastian's knuckles were white around his wand, he sat stiff beside you, not once glancing your way.

You figured that if you didn't speak, you'd be sitting in silence for hours. You glanced down at the paper bird that lay discarded on the floor, your lips quirking up just slightly as you picked it up; "you know, my mother taught me how to make these when I was younger. Without magic, that is." You chuckled. You rarely spoke about your parents, it was a sensitive topic. But it was your way of trying to make Sebastian feel more comfortable to share what he was feeling with you; what was bothering him.

"I used to get rather frustrated when I couldn't get it right the first times," you gently inspected the small bird with your fingers, thumbs running along the smooth white paper, "but she'd always tell me to take a breath, count to five, and start again."

With your eyes fixed on the paper bird in your hands, you didn't notice Sebastian's eyes fixed on your profile. The grip on his wand loosened slightly as he committed every detail of you to memory.

A shiver ran down your back when you finally turned your head to face him again. He was close, your breaths mingling as the lines of your relationship blurred and burned with the candles.

"Sebastian…" You breathed, watching the way his eyes darted to your lips and back to your eyes, "about what happened at the catacombs, I'm-"

"Don't you dare say you're sorry." He cut you off suddenly, voice quiet and a little choked, but firm.

"I am, though," you leaned your head back against the stone wall, involuntarily leaning closer to him as your body gravitated to his warmth. "I'm sorry things didn't go as planned, but I promise we're not gonna stop looking for anything else that might help Anne."

Sebastian averted his gaze from you, furrowing his brows. You saw tears steadily collecting on the bottom lid of his eyes, despite his efforts to hide them. "Stop it," he mumbled.

You shifted in your seat, your jaw set tightly in place. The beats of your heart against your chest were painful. The thought of Sebastian distancing himself from you was painful. So much so that you fear you'd be willing to do anything to fix it, within reason or not.

"I mean it, Sebastian, I will do anything-"

"Stop it! You don't get it, do you?" He snapped, his eyes burning into yours again and shining under the candlelights. "I saw you laying on the floor of that damned catacomb and I thought you were dead!" The syllables broke and stuttered past his lips, the pain and fear he felt that day came back in waves and twisted his expression.

You were stunned to silence, watching as Sebastian opened his mouth, lower lip trembling as he searched for his voice again.

"Do you have any idea of what that felt like?" He whispered, words strangled and squeezing his chest until he had trouble breathing. You were nothing but a blur in front of him. Sebastian pursed his lips to try and keep himself from breaking. Speaking it out loud somehow felt like making it real. "I thought I'd just lost you, and… and it would be my fault."

The feeling of your gentle thumb carefully brushing against his cheek brought Sebastian back to reality, and he realized his tears were already dripping down his chin.

"I would never blame you for what happened," you shook your head, smiling sadly as you felt your own eyes sting, "you were just trying to help your sister, when everyone else had given up."

"I will cure Anne… but not at the expense of you," in some ways, he looked surprised at his own words; at the truthfulness of them. He gulped back a sob, "I thought I could control it," Sebastian breathed in sharply, avoiding your gaze but leaning into your touch, "I went too far, as Ominis has probably told you a thousand times already."

You chuckled softly, sneaking your fingers over his jaw and until they disappeared between the brown locks of his hair. Sebastian closed his eyes briefly at your comforting touch, allowing himself to melt against you. "He's more understanding than you give him credit for," you smiled.

That got half a smile out of Sebastian, his freckles highlighted by the candles around you. His hand inched closer to your free one resting on your lap, the tip of his fingers timidly closing around yours, craving more of you. His pupils were blown wide when he finally looked up at you again.

"I promise to never do anything this reckless again." His low tone left no room for doubt.

You leaned in slightly, feeling his fringe tickle your forehead. You thought you heard him trying to suppress a gasp, but maybe it was your foggy mind playing tricks on you.

There was a glint in his eyes you'd never seen before, still shining with remains of his emotions; but vulnerable, calm, loving.

"I am quite fond of your reckless side, though."

Your unexpected words brought an endearing blush across Sebastian's freckles. You felt the shape of his teasing grin when his lips touched yours.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Sebastian’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

[anthonsgi]

★’･ﾟ:｡･:*:HSR Men random bf!headcanons:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★

【Note: Hello! I have decided to write short headcanons for a few men in this game [playable only, sorry Oleg simps (*_ _)人], excuse any fluency errors, English isn't my first language, and I am still learning as I go! Please enjoy, and don't hesitate to request anything; I'm open to suggestions!】

【Pairings: Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan x GN!READER】

【CW: none!】

☆〜DAN HENG〜☆

He enjoys your company even if you two aren't speaking; simply being aware of your presence near him when he's focused on something insignificant, like reading a book, relaxes him.

Definitely has a soft spot for you and lets go of his usual cold and reserved demeanor when you two are alone.

There have been a few instances of him unconsciously beaming at you as he got lost in thought, looking at your excited face while you rambled about something you're passionate about. He'd never admit to it, though, if you called him out on it.

Prefers to be the big spoon mainly because he loves the feeling of your back pressing against his chest when your breathing slows as you fall asleep.

However, he appreciates it if you ask to be the big spoon whenever he has a nightmare or one of his visions.

He has little relationship experience [renheng ＼(º □ º l|l)/], so as committed as he is to making you feel loved and appreciated, he searches the data bank in the archives for information on romantic gestures and comes across a book about the significance of pet names. After "educating" himself more, he may refer to you as "my love," "darling," or even "baby" if he's feeling particularly lovey-dovey.

Dan Heng isn't a jealous boyfriend; nevertheless, if something bothers him, he becomes touchy! Always holding your arm or wrapping his hand around your waist.

Haven only just awakened, he's such a sleepy cutie! He'd try to kiss you but miss and peck your chin instead.

☆〜GEPARD〜☆

He's an exceptionally blushy guy, and it's pretty simple to make him flustered. Just hold his hand, and he'll melt.

No matter how long you've been together, Gepard loves to kiss but will never do it without getting your consent first. His kisses are short and gentle, but they are also tender and reassuring, given that he frequently cups your face in his hands.

Even though this guy evidently struggles to keep his plants alive, he will make every effort to grow a lovely flower as a gift for you.

He attracts kids like a magnet; some of them aspire to be captains like him, and it's the cutest thing ever to see him grow nervous as they shower him with compliments and questions.

Sometimes he'd find you asleep on the couch, and he'd pick you up bridal style and carry you to bed carefully so as not to wake you.

Oftentimes, Gepard's responsibilities prevent him from spending time with you, but he always strives to make up for it.

Used a cheesy pickup line once and never tried it again after feeling the second-hand embarrassment.

He always looks for a way to impress you with his strength.

☆〜JING YUAN〜☆

His duty as General usually keeps him occupied with work stuff, so when you pay him a visit during the day, he'll light up almost instantly and he'll be in a good mood.

You have to constantly kick him (gently or with force depending on how much sleep he has robbed you of) so he can turn to the other side and stop snoring.

When writing about his day in his diary, he always mentions the instances where something reminded him of you. (Spoiler alert: the majority of his day description is him adoring your facial features).

Jing Yuan's kisses are typically quick, although if he's feeling exceptionally touch-deprived, he prefers deeper, longer kisses.

If you decide to move in with him, it will be incredibly domestic; you would prepare each other's favorite drinks and meals just the way you like them without needing to ask, and you will share each other's clothes and accessories on a daily basis.

Routine, even if secure, can be exhausting, and he finds himself trapped in one. Therefore, Jing Yuan appreciates it when you try new things with him and make him feel like he can breathe freely again. Without worrying about any boring responsibilities, just you and him spending time together. Those are his most treasured moments.

He's very protective of you. Secretly that is. It might seem that he's not that bothered by the times you may have spent a while longer on an errand or went exploring, but he's actually worried! Sometimes to the point of sending someone to go look for you, just to be sure you're all safe and sound.

Has asked you to massage his back on multiple ocassions after a particularly tiring day.

[perpetuallydaydreaming]

you don’t really like me, you just think you do.

when james’ feelings did a 180, you find it hard to take him seriously.

warnings: no warnings, not proof read (bc lazy)

tags: fluff & angst, 5.9k wc, getting together, jamie being the best suitor, charlie (not weasely) is also here

when people asks you how it changed, you always say it was sudden.

suddenly, james was everywhere you look. suddenly, james was tripping and falling over you. suddenly, james fancied you.

as sudden as it was, it didn’t shock you as one would’ve expected. you always knew him to be as inconsistent in his school work, so you figured he would be inconsistent towards his feelings as well. what shocked you though, was that he liked you of all people.

all interactions with james had strictly consisted of school related-topics. you were in different houses and different social circles. so when he pulls you aside one morning in-between classes. you had expected one of two things; showing him how to do a bandaging charm, again or him asking you for a copy of your essays.

and it was to your absolute horror, that he proved how wrong you are.

“i like you and i hope you like me too.”

when people asks james how it changed, he always says it was gradual.

gradually, you became something he had looked forward seeing every morning. gradually, you had become a pivotal part of his day, every interaction cherished and replayed in his mind late at night. gradually, he had started falling for you.

as gradual as it was, it came as a complete shock for him. he had only viewed you as a friend, and even that was pushing it. you two barely talked to each other and when you did, it was always about school. you two were always paired up for some reason, and in his mind it became akin to fate. you started to occupy the large space that was once occupied by his lilypad and now replaced by you, your soft smile and the contradicting cynic replies.

and with fate working beside him to get you two as close as possible, james thought you figured the same. you were always so patient wth him, always ready to help him out. but your kindness sometimes came with snarky responses that he found oh so charming and witty. so when he excused you to talk, he had expected a successful attempt in snagging a date with you. even going as far as preparing a bouquet for you, he arranged himself.

and it was to his absolute horror, that you proved how wrong he is.

“um, no.”

and so became the norm. james had made it his life’s mission to actively pursue you. you gotta admit though, if he wanted something. he really goes all out.

it started with a daily routine with you every morning. james would wake up early and wait for you by the main floor near the grand staircase. his back against the rough stones, arms and ankles crossed, a boyish smile on his face the moment he would see you. he would beam a smile, cheeks denting, eyes shinning, and walk to you, offering a pleasant greeting of good morning, gorgeous. my, don’t you look ravishing this morning, grabbing your books and tote to carry for you. the first time he attempted this, you fought hard to deny his services. your hands like claws as you hold your things to your person. though he had hardly blinked then, maybe even looked a bit amused, even going as far as looking excited. the weirdo.

but it had been weeks now and frankly, you had grown tired of fighting with him every morning. especially, when he would always win in the end anyway. so now, you just let him do whatever he wanted. not like you have anything to complain about, your bag has always been pretty heavy.

he would flirt with you. constantly. shower you with compliments about things you hardly even think about sometimes. he had sung praises about your eyebrows the other day, and you had no choice but to bluster through it, to mask your flaming cheeks from embarrassment. but he’s not just all talk either, lately he’s worked up the courage to try to hold your hand — or something close to it. he would slowly walk closer to you, his pink lips going on and on asking you and complimenting you, telling jokes, a diversion—you realize. he would blindly extend his fingers, pinkies first, and when you would feel that first touch to your hand, your heart would do an awful jump. your skin would feel a little bit smaller, your brain blaring alarms, his pinky finger touched your hand, repeat it with increasing traitorous glee. this one, you haven’t stopped fighting. as each time you feel his hand touch yours, you would always create some distance between the two of you, no matter how crowded the corridor is, not that it hardly mattered to him, he looked like he’s won something each time he was successful.

today was no different. before the stairwell could even move, you can already see his dark messy hair waiting for you at one of the floors.

“i say, loverboy’s plenty persistent, hm?” charlie hummed, leaning over the railway, his pale eyes clear with amusement.

you scoff, fingers twitchy on the handle as you see him look up and glow into a smile as he locked eyes with you, “like a rash.” tearing your gaze from james potter down below to look ahead, “that would eventually go away.”

he raises an eyebrow at that, lips quirking into a smirk “really now? he’s been waiting for you every morning for the past months, i think this rash is here to stay. ”

you forced a tight lipped smile, “all in due time, i’m sure.”

clenching your hands when the stairs settle in, you walk down, gently meeting his bright honey eyes.

once you were close enough, he grinned, “good morning my sweet,” pushing himself off of the wall he was leaning against. like some infuriating roguish model. you like to think he practices ways on how he would look leaning against the stone wall. something he would drag his friends into helping him decide which one looked best, no doubt. you almost smile at the thought but stopped yourself when he says, “don’t you look as beautiful as ever.” he hummed.

his robes in his hands, his tie crisp and perfect, his white button-up wrinkle-free. his hair looking like something he’d desperately describe as artfully tousled but could only be ever perceived as messy. his cool bravado contrasting his rosy cheeks and ears. your heart doing that awful thing again.

“well, that’s my cue. see you both later.” charlie waved and you looked, giving him a nod goodbye.

you sighed through your nose, “potter.”

“try not to sound too happy now.” he teased. he let out his palms for you to place your tote and books, and like yesterday and the day before, you give it to him without complaint. “thanks,” you muttered, keeping in a snort of laughter as you see him wear your pink floral tote on his shoulders unabashedly.

“so, are you ready for your ancient runes test today?” he asks, once you two started walking to the great hall.

“how did you—?”

he shrugged, tousling his hair and looking down on you with a proud smile. “i know everything about you, darling.” (and that he does. albeit he had to beg and bribe his way for your friends to start sharing basic information about you. what your classes are, favourite colours, what you like, dislike —because merlin forbid you actually share things about yourself. all without you knowing of course. wouldn’t want you to think of him as weird.)

you gave the weirdo a suspicious stare before shaking your head, “i think i’m ready. i mean, i studied everything i could. i revised three books for it and even did flashcards.”

“well i bet my hair, you’re gonna do just great.” he grinned, softly nudging your shoulder. “you always have.”

rolling your eyes, “thank you, although i don’t really need you hair.”

“well, just tell me which limb you want and i’ll give it to you.” spreading his arms apart, your bag sliding on his arms with his movement. grinning wide and wiggling his eyebrows. leaning into your face.

your face screwing up into a grimace, and pushing his face away with your knuckles, “the same goes for any anatomy or anything you offer me, i’m afraid.”

the persistent blighter just grinned, looking all too proud of himself for whatever reason.

you were about to turn towards the library, but he grabbed your arm and clicked his tongue, “eat breakfast first,” his fingers firmly wrapped around your inner elbow, denting the soft skin there.

“i have to study,” you say firmly, hoping your voice won’t crack.

“you studied enough, now let’s go.” a little tug from him and you were compliant. something he had looked pleasantly surprised by, if the denting cheeks were any indication.

once he felt you weren’t fighting him from pulling you to the great hall, he let you go. warm big hands leaving your arms.

he started talking about his plans, letting you know when he’s available and when he’s busy. asking about yours in turn — and like always sharing nothing. not that he’s deterred. it’s near the hall’s entrance when you feel his gaze at the side of your face, “—after practice though, i’m going to be fairly free the rest of the night.” that familiar lilt in his voice.

breathing in deep, knowing what’s coming next. “so i was thinking, that maybe we could meet up near the lake - have an afternoon picnic.” you turn to look at him and see him rub the back of his neck. the action causing his biceps to bulge out, pulling the fabric taut against his skin. a treacherous thought passing in your mind.

breathing in slowly, you close your eyes to refocus on his face. warm hazel eyes pleading, hopeful, still just like that first time.

“no thank you,” entering the hall just as james opens the door for you.

he frowns, no, pouts. “why not?”

“i just don’t want to.” you walked to your usual seat in the ravenclaw table and james following behind you closely.

“i guess, that’s fair.”

james still in his head, muttering about cancelling with the elves, as he went to unconsciously grab your hand to guide you into your seat. you flushed at the new action, but nonetheless take a seat anyway. he slowly let your bag slip away from his shoulders place it neatly to your side.

“i’ll walk you to the library after you eat, so wait for me, okay?” he smiled gently down at you like you haven’t just rejected him. giving your friends a few nods of acknowledgments before sitting with his friends already there waiting for him.

you hear a few teasing oohs from your friends causing you to get out of your stupor and shoot glares at them. “don’t even.”

it was no public secret that james had been determined to ask you out on a date for the past months. and each time he did, his plans only becoming more elaborate than the last.

the first time he had asked, it was in the corridor in-between classes. people scattering to get where they needed to be. you were no different until a large bouquet with large and colourful flowers arranged messily in wrinkly cellophane and tight ribbons. you remembered his face then, noting how red and shy he looked. he had been stammering and restarting his spiel to you. you saw your friend gesturing for you to hurry, but oddly enough. you stayed rooted to the spot, curious for what’s to come.

“i like you and i hope you like me too!” he might as well be screaming, as the people around you two stopped and stared. the hall now deathly silent, awaiting your response. you flushed at the attention, and grabbed james by the elbow. walking swiftly to the more secluded area at the end of the hall.

once you two were alone, you see those hopeful eyes of his and his nervous smile. his face was still laughably red and the flowers still upright, tightly clutched in his hands.

“um no,” standing up straighter, “i don’t know what transpired for you to do this but, no.”

you can practically see him deflate then, the flowers lowering from his chest to his side. “no?”

“no.”

“i thought—“ he gulped, stepping towards you. but you raise a hand stopping him. clearing your throat before uttering,

“potter, what about evans?”

he tilted his head, hair flopping in his eyes, and a frown on his pink lips. “what about her?”

you scoff a humourless laugh, hands wildly waving in front you. your bag slipping but continued to say,

“what about her? potter, you’ve liked her since—well since, forever and now you want me to believe you like me now?”

“yes.” he nodded, eyebrows scrunching now. looking frustrated like it was obvious.

you laugh in disbelief, muttering lowly, “how fickle.”

“fickle?”

you freeze, shamed he heard you. waving your hands nonchalantly, an easy smile on your face, “you know frequently changes, inconsistent.”

“i know what fickle means, i’m not an idiot.”

you sputter a short laugh at his indignant tone, “what? are you mad at me now?”

huffing through his nose and pouting, “i’m not mad at you, i’m mad at the situation—“

“fickle! you just confessed looking all shy and now you’re glaring—“

“i am not glaring.”

“fickle!” you laugh, pointing at his scrunched up face. his face now red for a different reason.

“i’m not!” he groans, “i really like you and i want to date you.”

reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder, ignoring the way he tensed up and gotten even redder, “no, you don’t. these feelings will eventually pass. trust me.”

james hadn’t replied then, and just as you were about to leave, he thrusted the flowers in your face once again.

“no, potter—“

shaking his head, “no, these are for you. regardless of your answer.” showing you a small dimpled smile, compelling you to take them without anymore argument. the cellophane rustling in your hand. the flowers looking like they’ve been randomly arranged, like someone just chose the biggest and eye catching flowers and bundled it together.

you try not to imagine james picking the flowers himself and getting pink ribbons to tie it all together. tongue poking at his cheek in concentration as he struggles to arrange the flowers like the professionals. it wasn’t an image you saw before, but found yourself easily picturing it nonetheless.

“thank you...”

and you thought that was the end of it. he’ll start to ignore you now because you bruised his pride. maybe even go back to talking to lily evans again.

you try not to think of the swirling disappointment in your stomach, nor the twinge of something else mixed in.

but when you got down from the ravenclaw tower, the next day. off to start your day in the library. there he was, leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

james potter was waiting for you, a radiant smile etching on his face once he saw you.

since then, you had been subjected to various ways james had planned to asked you out. ranging from spelling out your name with an invite in the sky to literally riding a white horse during class and asking if he could whisk you away. all had been met with either an indifferent stares or a horrified wide-eyed gape. after two weeks of feeling complete dread and embarrassment, to the possibilities james potter has in store for you. he suddenly stopped. retiring fireworks and floating parchment of invitations, to normal folded ones inserted in your books. no longer charming his voice so it could be heard all over school to hear him declare his affections, but instead softly asking you in private instead.

it was obvious you had taken a liking to the quieter, more discreet versions rather than the former.

because the first time he did, james had gathered a lock of your hair between his fingers and tucked them behind your ear, whispered low and slow and so close to your ear, as he uttered:

“go on a date with me,”

you were blushing up a storm, then. face warm to the touch and eyes averting frantically to every corner in the library except his eyes. frustratingly aware of his fingers still touching your ear.

he had looked at you then, shock written all over his face before a shy grin took over his face. rubbing his hand over his mouth and tugging the corner of his mouth to stop himself from grinning at your reaction.

he had also been rejected that time but he decided your reaction was reward enough.

you look at your watch and saw you had around an hour left to read up on your other subjects before your first lesson starts.

taking the last few bites of breakfast before james, who had noticed the time as well, had walked over and was already grabbing the things you pulled out of your tote, placing it neatly inside. plopping to the seat beside you.

“you ready to go, pretty?” he quipped.

quickly nodding as you hastily clean your section of the table and said your goodbyes to your friends. pointedly ignoring the wiggling eyebrows and teasing hoots of pretty.

james had offered a hand to help you stand up but you ignored it and stood on your own.

“did you eat a lot?” leaning to have a good look at your face.

you nodded, “a bit. they had scrambled eggs, so i had a full plate.”

james nodding, a happy smile on his face. “good, good.” turning to look in front of him and opening the heavy doors for you all the while adjusting your tote on his shoulders. “listen, there was a schedule change for pitch practice so i’ll be a bit busy starting tomorrow. i’m sorry, sweets.”

“okay.”

he hummed, thoughtful. “i’ll try to still be around and walk you to your classes in between breaks—we’ll see how that goes. try not to miss me too much, yeah?” a teasing smile on his lips.

you rolled your eyes, oblivious to the days ahead.

“oh,” charlie said, leaning over to the railing.

“what?” following his gaze and looking over to the glaringly, strangely vacant spot. “oh,”

now staring at you with a teasing glint in his eye. “i see mr. loverboy’s not in today.” the smirk on his face making you roll your eyes.

“managed to finally scare him off, did ‘ya?” he supplies.

“if only,” crossing your arms, “he said he’ll be busy with quidditch practice.”

when the stairs settled in, charlie turned to you. “it’s certainly nice to know he has other hobbies other than bothering you.”

“bothering me?” adjusting the strap of your tote on your shoulder.

he quirked an eyebrow, an inquisitive look on his face “he doesn’t bother you anymore?”

“nonsense, you know he does.”

“interesting,”

you look at him with a frown, hating the teasing, the all knowing tone he always uses when you missed something. “what?”

“nothing!” you gave him an exasperated stare and raised your eyebrow, raising his hand in the air and chuckled, “i just noticed you getting a bit soft on ‘im, that’s all.” tapping his chin, “you don’t look that bothered to me, is what i’m saying. and you never say so anymore.”

your face warmed. is that what it looked like to others? is that potter thinks? that you’re going soft on him now? you scoff, tightening your hold on your bag and adjusting the sliding strap. “do i really have to announce it every time i’m pissy with him?”

he’s humming, a certain skip in his step that makes you want to trip him, “no, but i can tell you’re at least tolerating him now. friends, maybe?”

“tolerating does not equate friendship, sorry to say.” you know, it isn’t. being with james doesn’t feel at all like how it is with charlie.

“an assistant then?” mirth clear in his eyes as he said that. charlie the pale mutt having way too much fun with this.

pursing your lips in an annoyed frown, “i’d like to think he doesn’t qualify enough to be my assistant.” adjusting the slipping strap of your bag.

he laughs, grabbing your tote off your shoulder, and sliding it to his. “you’re not even used to holding your bag anymore, since he always carry it for you.”

“so?”

“so,” looking pointedly at you, as he counts on his fingers, “he’s not a friend, he doesn’t qualify to be your assistant… what is he then?”

you blinked, the question wasn’t anything new. if anything it was a question you started hearing quite frequently, after james potter’s many attempts to woo you. the questions before, however, carried a chaffing tone meant to tease or pull a reaction. but now, with charlie peering curiously at you, and the many weeks you’ve talked with james. the question now carry a different tone.

but still you remain nonchalant, regardless of the warming cheeks and ears. you huffed,

“a pet.”

it was on the same day after one of your classes when you saw him waiting for you. he was still wearing his practice kit and gloves. it looked as if he had rushed over here, with his hair windswept all the more messier than usual. his hazel eyes more alert, brighter—something you find always happens after he plays.

he looked up when he saw the swarm of students leaving the room, eyes immediately meeting yours and the familiar smile that goes with it. his cheeks tinted pink, maybe from the cold wind gushing outside or, dare i say it, seeing you. you ignore the spreading warmth in your stomach, your skin shrinking and your judas heart thudding like a fluttering hummingbird.

the smile he shot your way, was a soft little smile. something you learned he did if he was sorry about something.

“hello, sweets.” he said once close enough. he had reached out then, grabbing your things out of your arms and you giving it to him out of habit. “did you have a good morning?”

your voice seemed to be unresponsive as you just nodded. still raking over his face and figure. like it was your first time seeing him, an urge to reach out. as if you didn’t see him yesterday.

“sorry, i wasn’t there to greet you in the morning.” rubbing the back of his neck. “the team wanted an early practice.”

“oh, i barely noticed.” you lied.

a lie he seems to have caught on himself, if the bashful smile on his face is anything to go by. his cheeks with pretty divots— an urge to dig your thumbs in there greater than ever. no, you think. clenching your hands tight to your sides. fucking charlie with his absurd ideas.

when the last student left the hall, the two of you were left in silence. him staring sparkles at you and you desperately avoiding it.

clearing your throat, you started to walk in the direction of your next class.

“anyway it’s fine, you’re captain now. so more responsibilities is inevitable, i say.”

he slipped your bag into his shoulders and started rearranging your books in his arms. “you know i made captain?”

“you told me, didn’t you?” you frown. you could have sworn he did. it was the day he had drawn hearts all over the margin of your notes, writing both yours and his initials in a heart. the sopping sap.

he stood up straighter, eyes widening in wonder. “you remembered,”

“is that so surprising?” clicking your tongue, slightly offended he thinks you would disregard the things he says. you had manners.

he immediately shook his head, a bright smile took over his face that you had no choice but to look away.

“i’m more surprised you actually have the time to even walk me to class.”

he shakes his head, “i’ll always make time for you!” he exclaimed, slightly bumping your shoulder. “did you think i’d let you go on a day without seeing my face at least once?”

“ah yes, because seeing you is such a gift, no?” you said, you’re voice void of emotions. but he continues undeterred.

“and because i’m so generous, i’ll try to meet you like this tomorrow too.” he beamed, puffing his chest.

a clear image enters your brain. you think of james rushing from the practice grounds to the classrooms in the higher floors. imagine him barely having anytime to rest or even drink water if he were to walk you to your classes and go back to the pitch in time. imagine himself slump against the stone wall in front of the door, steadying his breathing so he wouldn’t look tired or worn, putting on his usual, irritably handsome smile. you imagine him having to rush back, making him even more tired than he has to be. imagine him not performing his best.

the image vivid in your head because he would most likely do just that. and that fact didn’t sit well with you for some reason, “what for? won’t that be an inconvenience to you?”

“it’s not an inconvenience.” he says lightly.

“but isn’t the practice field far from here?” you frowned. it was at two flights of stairs, and a long walk to the covered bridge to the school grounds to the quidditch pitch. it had to be at least a 15 minute walk

his smile slowly started to leave his face as if sensing something wrong. “not that far—” turning to look at you.

you raise an eyebrow, as if scolding, “didn’t you rush over here?”

he shook his head, curls strands flopping over his eyes, “only a little bit—“

“potter, you don’t have rush over here for that.”

“but how can i walk you to your next class if i don’t hurry?”

“that’s what i’m saying,” rolling your eyes, “you don’t have to walk me to class, we can just focus on our own thing for a while—“

now a small frown on his face, “but i want to.”

“and i’m telling you, i don’t need you to. you can focus on your training more rather than rush to walk me in-between classes.” waving off as if it was nothing. you didn’t want him giving up precious break time for something menial like walking you to class.

he stops walking, eyes now filled with frustration. you groan inwardly, plenty sure you won’t be able to reach your class in time. “i just want to spend a little bit of time with you, is that so bad?”

you laugh awkwardly, “this is barely spending time with each other. it’s just a walk to class—”

“so what? you’re saying no to walking with me now?”

you groan out a laugh, pushing your hair out of your face. the idea of it creating an unpleasant twist in your stomach. “that’s not what i’m saying,” softly rubbing your temples, already feeling the migraine forming over the escalating topic.

“then what?”

“spending a little time apart is better, i don’t need you doing all of this for me. carrying my stuff and walking me to class, or waiting for me in the morning. i don’t need any of it. so apologizing or trying to make up for it is unnecessary.”

he laughs in disbelief, “unnecessary?” he parrots, “why can’t you just let me do things for you? why do you always have to fight with me about everything?”

“i don’t want you to!” you exclaimed.

he is being difficult. you were just saying this for his sake. he was the one who said he needed to practice more and now that you tell him to focus on that, he goes off on you.

“i know, but i want to do these things for you because i like you! this is what people do when they like somebody, y/n. they do stuff for them without being asked to.”

rolling your eyes, just ready to end the conversation as you spew the things in your brain mindlessly. “oh seven hells! you don’t like me! you just think you do!”

he took a step forward eyes blazing in irritation, “and you just know that for sure, yeah?”

“yes, potter. i know this for sure.”

he scoffs out a disbelieving laugh, “why is it so hard for you to take my feelings seriously?”

you took a step back, not expecting his question. “what?”

“did someone hurt you before?”

“no-“

“lie to you? trick you?”

”no, what—?”

“then i don’t understand,” staring at you, eyebrows scrunched and hazel eyes blazed with sadness. “is there something wrong with me—?”

you were about to reach out to him, apologize. or clarify. or anything just to make him stop looking like that.

“why can’t the person i’m interested in, like me back?”

you stop, an ugly green emotion engulfing your chest. of course, you thought. your next class be damned. as you face contorts into a sneer as you spat out the words,

“so that’s what this is about?” you scoff, “years of rejection from evans, you turn to the easiest target you can get, so you can feel good about yourself?”

anger taking over his face, “what—?”

“just admit it, you’re pursuing me because you’re frustrated she didn’t reciprocate your feelings.”

“—you think i see you as someone easy? you think i would actually do that to you?”

you straightened your posture, “you can’t be mad at me for simply laying down the facts.” completely disregarding the fact you’ve implied you’d be a willing participant to his wooing if he weren’t so fickle.

adjusting the strap of your bag on his shoulder, mumbling, “i can’t believe this.” and now in a louder voice. “and what are your facts, then?”

“you claimed to love evans, fact.” he scoffs, but you continue. “she rejects you, fact. you start to realize there are other girls in our year and then you see little ole me, fact. you start to build unto this idea of starting something with me because for whatever reason your brain seems to think it’s a good idea, fact.”

shaking his head, “even if that were all true, i like you now.”

“and how long until that changes too?” you counter, looking straight at him. angry tears building in your eyes.

“what? it’s not going to change. ” he stepped forward, and you step back.

“you have been nothing in life but be inconsistent.”

his face twists into a frown. “that’s not true,”

“oh really?” you nodded, your voice getting louder in the quiet halls, “you were the best student during our first year but then you stopped trying. you were on your way to becoming a prefect until you decided you didn’t want to anymore. you were going to turn down becoming captain if it weren’t for black threatening to quit unless you accepted. i mean, really james potter,”

a bitter laugh came tumbling out of your mouth, “you’ve been in love with this girl ever since you were eleven, and now you aren’t.” you breathed, “how will i know you won’t stop liking me too?”

looking into his eyes, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come, you grabbed your bag and books from him and walked away.

“that’s what i thought.”

you didn’t see james after that. not in the morning after and not in-between classes. you thought it was because of quidditch practice again. but when the week ended and still no sign of him, you felt something heavy drop in your chest.

you labelled it as guilt (though charlie have insisted it to be something else—something else he refuses to tell).

guilty you raised your voice and basically criticized him for doing something nice for you. started overthinking you might’ve struck a nerve you shouldn’t’ve, considering you weren’t really friends to begin with. charlie did always say you were a bit loose with your choice of your words. you were the type to offend somebody even without meaning to, he says.

now, it has been days since you last spoke to james and things hasn’t felt right since.

your tote bag keeps slipping off of your shoulder. your books seems heavier now and harder to hold. now, the eggs served at breakfast were never scrambled— always a shitty sunny side up. you can’t concentrate in class. you keep looking for a tall head of curly hair, everywhere you go and you keep feeling the inevitable disappointment when it isn’t the person you were looking for.

it was getting harder and harder keeping your usual composed demeanor. and if charlie noticed anything different with you, he didn’t say anything. until now that is,

“okay this whole thing is getting pathetic.” he sighed. plopping down next to you in the ravenclaw common room.

you look at him, frown seemingly placed permanently on your face nowadays. “i’m sorry?”

he nodded, “yeah, you should be sorry. because you let a good bloke like potter go.” you sat up, “and all because of your refusal to accept that he might actually like you.”

you roll your eyes grumbling, “you don’t know anything,”

“i know you like him,” he huffs, “and for some reason you refuse to admit it.”

you took a deep breath, the glare you had on, softening as you look away.

you didn’t bother correcting him because, well, he was right. you had been dancing around your feelings for so long, you were sure the mask of indifference had already slipped off without your knowledge. you slumped, a whispered sigh as you muttered, “why would i even bother? i know he’ll change his mind.”

charlie had looked taken aback, clearly he expected more fight from you. you huff, you weren’t so emotionally inept that you would continue to deny it any longer. considering how long you’ve been denying yourself of the truth. maybe just a smidge of denial still, but seeing how that rather blown up in your face, it was time to face the music.

and after a while he said, “did he tell you that?”

fiddling with your hands, you say scoffing, “did he tell me he’ll eventually leave me? no,”

“are you clairvoyant then?”

you huff a short laugh, “you know, i think that’s rubbish.”

he offered a smile, “then how do you know he’ll change his mind?”

you sigh, shrugging your shoulders, “i don’t know,”

“and you’ll never know unless you get up and tell him you like him.”

“but what if he changes his mind?” looking at your friend properly now, “what if he suddenly decides he doesn’t like me anymore. hell, he probably doesn’t anymore.”

he shook his head, “he hasn’t. he won’t.”

“but what if?” you whine.

rolling his eyes, “on the off chance that he does, then at least you can say you tried. that for a short while you were happy.“ patting your back, “and isn’t that better?”

you scoff, looking away. “no, that’s definitely worse.”

it was a two days after you and charlie had a talk. and it was during these two days that you and your friends discussed ways on how to make up with james.

you’d think a group of ravenclaws could come up with clever ways to solve your problems. but when one of your friends suggested painting a mural for their honour, and another telling you to pretend like you passed out in front of him—made you realize your friends were as hopeless as you are.

but it turns out, you didn’t really have to.

you were on your way to the ravenclaw tower, when it happened.

you saw james walking towards you. strides large and with purpose. you can practically see his eyes blaze with determination.

you were never big on confrontation, especially when you’re the one being confronted. so you did what anyone would have done, turn and speed walk the other way.

you were about to turn the corner of the hall, out of his sight when you hear him call out to you.

“y/n please,”

you stop, the desperation in his voice echoing in the halls. you hear his footsteps behind, speeding its pace. before slowly turning around to face him.

“james i-“

he shook his head, breathless as he says, “you know i’m a bit cross with you.”

you nod, “yes. you should be, i-“

“you didn’t let me respond to you that day.”

“what?”

his lips pursed, “when you asked me, if i’ll stop liking you.”

you shook your head, embarrassed. “no, you don’t have to-“

“i don’t know if i’ll stop. all i know is, i like you y/n. and i’m not going to say it’s always been you because i did like her.” he looked at you, eyes clear and sure as ever,

“i liked her when i didn’t even know what liking someone meant. and when i did, i realized it wasn’t the like i thought i had for her. i admired her, sure, but what i felt for her is not even comparable to what i feel for you now. you make me want to become a better man. you make me want to make something of myself. you keep me grounded but you also make me feel like i could fly. you’re the most amazing person, i know and it’s frustrating to think you don’t see yourself the same way i see you.

“and i know you like me too, you can try and pretend all you want but i can tell. because you always listen to me even when you pretend not to. you always have a small smile on your face whenever i come see you in the morning. and then you act as if you don’t care. you always refuse my gifts at first but i know all the things i’ve given you is still in your room. i know you turned the first bouquet into bookmarks. you like me as much as i like you and i know part of the reason why you won’t acknowledge it is because you’re scared. and i can’t exactly blame you because of that. but i’m willing to prove to you that you have nothing to be afraid of. i’ll study harder in school, i’ll take up more responsibility, i’ll prove to you, i can see things through. if you could just give me a chance because you make me want to try, dammit.”

he took a couple of steps forward until he was right in front of you. reaching for your hand and softly engulfing yours with his. never realizing how big it is compared to yours. when you didn’t pull away, he looked at you in the eyes, adjusting his grip so it was intertwined and softly breathing out the words,

“every time i look at you, i feel like my heart is about to jump out of my damned chest. i like you, y/n. i like so much i already wrote to my parents about you.“

he looked at you so softly then, eyes wide in hope.

what do you say to that? james potter the most charming boy in school, your crush ever since you were a first year, likes you. you bit your lip, fighting the growing smile on your face and failing as you utter back,

“all good things i hope.”

he gives a dimpled grin back, “the best, truthful things.”

you cleared your throat, “well, james potter,” tightening your grip on his hand, your meeting that meeting hazel.

“i like you, and i hope you like me back.” you whisper, ignoring the hummingbird in your chest, the alarms in your heads and the tightening skin.

he bit his lip and pulled you flush against him. arms now wrapped around your waist. “no,” he breathed out a laugh, grabbing your cheek before leaning in and slotting his lips with yours into a giddy kiss.

your thumbs slipping into the pretty divots in his cheeks, as soft and smooth as you’ve always imagined them to be.

[hispg]

Comfort

Pairings: R4! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: Your husband is glad that he has you, just like he's glad to have his little family.

Wc:4.8k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, p in v, mentions of ptsd, mentions of birth and pregnancy, soft sex(nothing too kinky), oral sex(f receiving), just Leon being a sweetheart.

An:So, this week has been very busy for me. As I've been saying in my last few posts, university has been taking up a lot of my time, as well as my mental health being pretty messed up. I didn't manage to finish the chapter of 'Between Love and Vows' so I probably won't post anything new until next week. In compensation, I'll post another one of my drafts (smut), I'll make a poll so you guys can choose. And next week I'll post two new chapters of the series! Thanks for your love and understanding <3 If I haven't answered your comment, ask or request, don't worry, I will eventually🫶🫶

MDNI

Sleepless nights, the nightmares that kept tormenting him, his mind that was in turmoil all the time. Leon was used to all this, he had already realized that these were sensations he would carry with him for the rest of his life.

His trauma, ptsd that haunted him every day. Things he had seen and heard, all so fresh in his memory, so vivid. Things that no matter how hard he tried to forget, he couldn't. As if it were a mark stamped on his soul.

But he coped, as he always does with everything in life. Little by little, he understood how to deal with panic attacks, how to calm down even when he was about to collapse. He learned all this, but that didn't make things any less worse than they were.

Although he thought he had everything under control, that it wouldn't affect him as much as before, he was wrong.

His last mission in Spain proved it, he went from hell to heaven to save the president's daughter. Everything worked out in the end, but that doesn't erase what he experienced or saw.

Many times he could have sworn that if it hadn't been for you, he would have gone mad a long time ago. Even if you weren't able to end the pain he felt, you were there to be the light at the end of the tunnel for him, the clarity to his own insanity.

All this because every time he returned from a mission, he came home first, not caring if he was all dirty with mud and dirt, even blood. His safe haven was here, with you.

That was the only reason he always came home, no matter how difficult things might be for him. You were what he needed, you were the person who healed all his wounds, and he couldn't be more grateful.

If it had been anyone else, he would have left you by now, but you understood him. You listened to him even if he didn't make any sense, you were still there.

Your love was the remedy for all his problems.

And if he was being honest, it was the reason he woke up every day, the only reason he had a place to call home. You, simply you.

And that night, he found himself on another one of those nights when he couldn't sleep, and there he was, pacing around the house, finding something to occupy his mind.

It had been two weeks since he had returned from his mission in Spain, and he was still terrified by everything that had happened, even though he was safe and sound in the comfort of his own home.

He woke up from a nightmare, yet another one. And in order not to wake you too, he preferred to get out of bed. You were already tired enough to have to deal with him in the wee hours of the morning.

He was so careful with you, even though you had told him several times that it was okay for him to wake you up if he needed to. But he was stubborn enough to say no.

As he made some tea, just to see if it would calm his nerves, he watched the rain falling outside, the gentle drips hitting the window.

In that silence he began to have some sweet memories, it always helped to calm him down a little. One of those memories was when he asked you to marry him, God, he still remembers the nervousness that ran through his whole body. The trembling hands that held the box with the ring, the words that he had rehearsed so much and still came out messy. He was so afraid of being told no, but his heart calmed down when you smiled and threw yourself into his arms, saying yes again and again, making his heart melt each time.

That night he fell even more in love with you, if that were possible.

When you started living together, every time he came home he was greeted with a hug, you welcomed him with love and affection. He felt his cold exterior crumble at the same moment, words couldn't describe how much he liked it. Every little gesture that came from you, no matter what, he always took it to heart and considered it with all his soul.

He still vividly remembered a conversation he had with you as soon as you moved in together. It never failed to crack a smile.

"Darling, did you let something burn?" Leon asks as he feeds himself, looking around the kitchen.

You look at him with a laugh, seeing that he arrived so tired that he didn't even realize he was still in his work clothes. And then you answer, "No, why do you ask?"

"Nothing, it's just that something stinks." He says quietly, focused on finishing his food.

You can't help yourself and a giggle escapes your lips, "You haven't showered yet, sweetheart."

"Oh..." He mumbles, looking down at his state.

He was so entertained that he only noticed a baby crying from one of the bedrooms, it was you guys son.

He didn't hesitate to go into the baby's room, watching the little one whimpering in his crib, even though he was warm and comfortable in his blankets, the little boy was still bothered by something.

Leon imagined that he wasn't hungry, since you had fed him not long ago. Then he thought it might be his diaper that was dirty, which he soon confirmed.

So the baby was in his arms the next second, he put the little boy on the changing table and changed him properly, not forgetting a single detail, from carefully wiping him down with a wet wipe, to the ointment he had to apply to prevent diaper rash.

He checked the diaper to make sure it was fastened properly. Once he'd checked everything, he rocked the baby in his arms until the little one fell asleep again.

He even sang a lullaby, one of the little boy's favorites. He still thought it sounded ridiculous, but he didn't care as long as it soothed the baby.

Every time he looked at the little one's face, he couldn't hold back the loving smile that always appeared on his lips. It was still hard to believe that he had his own little family.

It's still clear in his memory when you announced that you were pregnant, the uncertainty and fear that consumed him. The anguish he felt, the apprehension of being a bad father. As well as the shock he felt when he received the news, since it wasn't something either of you were expecting. Not least because you had just started living together, so it was a lot all at once. But nothing that shook the relationship, quite the opposite.

But every time he saw you laugh, every time you came home with a little baby thing, whether it was clothes, shoes or even a toy. He couldn't contain his joy at the thought that he was going to be a father, that he was going to have a child.

It wasn't long before he started buying lots and lots of things for the baby, rattles, diapers, baby cloths, various types of educational toys, plush toys and everything else.

In a matter of weeks, the spare room in the house was full and ready to receive the baby, even if you weren't that far along in your pregnancy.

Not only did he become even more protective, the kind that wouldn't even let you lift a thing, but he accompanied you throughout your pregnancy. From start to finish. Even though he sometimes had to leave for work, he never failed to call you, even if it was late at night.

He always made video calls to see how you were doing, even talking to the baby in your belly on the phone. Even if they were quick calls, he still made sure they happened.

It was obvious that he wanted to be there for you, and he made it clear whenever he could, because he did everything for you, simply everything. Craves? He'd arrange anything you wanted. Going out late at night to buy a slice of cake in a particular flavor? Well, he was there. He would go to the end of the earth to find whatever you wanted.

When you were uncomfortable he was there, always whispering kind things to you, always trying to calm you down and relax in his embrace, trying to give you all the security you could have. He still remembers when your water broke, you were so calm, and he was about to have a heart attack.

Yet he was with you the whole way, holding your hand as you went into labor.

But all his worry went away as soon as he heard the baby's cry, the little being that had just come out of you. He still remembers the unconditional love he felt as soon as he laid eyes on the little one, as soon as he saw you cradling the boy in your arms, crying with exhaustion and joy. Just as he was crying as much as the baby, he felt so happy that he couldn't imagine being anywhere else but there with you and your bundle of joy.

"What are we going to call him?" Leon asked through tears, wiping away his own with the back of his hand.

"I don't know, sweetheart, we agreed that if it was a boy you'd choose." You say in a whisper, giving him a small smile. Rocking the newborn in your arms.

"No, I'd rather you chose." He says softly, running his fingers through the baby's thin golden strands, which by the way had the same hair as his father.

"Leon-," he doesn't let you finish, giving you a kiss on the lips. Letting his forehead rest on yours, looking at you with tear-filled eyes and a sweet smile.

"You've already given me one of the greatest joys of my life. Nothing could be fairer than for you to choose any name you like." Kind words that made your heart melt, and you just nodded.

At that moment he realized that there was no better place in the world. That there was nowhere else he wanted to be, all he needed was you.

While he was lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice that the little one had already fallen asleep, making cooing noises, his mouth hanging open while he slept peacefully. Even the way he slept was like Leon's, it was funny to see how similar the two of them were.

Then he slowly placed the little one in his crib, tucking him into the covers and making sure he was warm and comfortable for the rest of the night.

He stayed for a few more minutes, humming some more until he was sure the boy wouldn't wake up too soon.

After that he moved into the kitchen, where he found you awake, which was enough to make him wrinkle his eyebrows.

"Love?" He asks softly, moving towards you.

You answer him with a smile, giving him a hug, "You should have called me."

He shakes his head, kissing the top of your head, "I didn't have to."

You pout, giving him a playful pat on the shoulder.

"Here, I've made your tea. I've also put out a slice of cake for you." You murmur with a smile, pointing to the plate on the table.

He chuckles, holding your face and kissing the tip of your nose.

"You're amazing." He whispers before walking over to the table and sitting down, taking a sip of tea and eating the cake, which, by the way, was his favorite flavor.

So you sat next to him, waiting for him to finish eating silently.

"Your food is fucking good." Leon says, taking a bite of his cake and smiling at you.

You couldn't help but giggle, knowing that even if you burned the food, he'd eat it and say it was good.

"No, you're just being nice." You say softly, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He laughed genuinely, entwining his fingers with yours. Then he lifted your hand and kissed the back of it.

You were always amazed by his loving gestures, which he always made towards you. And so the two of you remained until he had finished eating, rubbing his thumb against your hand to give it a gentle caress.

When he had finished, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, looking at you with a smile. But you couldn't help noticing the dark circles under his eyes, just as he still had a few scratches and bruises all over his body. As well as the scars, some new, some old. All a mark of his profession.

"Did you have another nightmare?" you ask, running your fingers along his cheekbones, smiling softly.

He nodded with a tired sigh, leaning into your touch, "No big deal."

You knew that he always hid these things from you, not least because it took time for him to feel comfortable sharing the events of his mission with you.

"You can tell me, smartass." You said smiling, rubbing your nose against his, letting his hand rest on the small of your back.

His lips curved into a small smile, just as his eyes met yours. And that was enough to make you blush slightly, no matter how long you'd been together, he always had that effect on you.

The rain began to fall harder outside, enough to make you both look out of the window. The rain left a comfortable atmosphere in the kitchen, just the two of you sharing the warmth of your bodies, making that cold night a little warmer.

You picked up the dishes and took them to the sink, taking the opportunity to wash them right away. And it wasn't long before you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, just as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his warm breath beating against you.

"I swear to God I love the smell of your lotion." He purrs, rubbing his nose against your neck, hugging you tightly.

You smiled, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. Even if it was late at night, those moments were so precious to you both. A little intimacy was always nice.

But even with all the affection coming from him, you could feel how tense his muscles were, how his breathing wasn't very regulated. Every time he had these nightmares, they took a while to wear off, and he was still scared for a good few hours.

You then turned to him, held his face in your hands and looked at him seriously, "You should have called me."

He knew how this conversation would go. But to be honest, he wasn't paying attention to your speech, only to the way your lips moved as you spoke, your sweet voice entering his ears. Even if it was you scolding him.

All he could do was give you a silly little smile, stroking your cheeks with his thumb. No matter how much you talked, he would forget the next day. He just didn't want to worry you with his work matters.

Gently he put his index finger to your lips, whispering, "Why don't you hush, darling?"

You widened your eyes, preparing to protest, but he interrupted you, giving you a loving kiss. The kiss was full of affection and tenderness, just as he wasted no time in wrapping his arms around your waist once again, gluing your body to his.

Without giving you time to say another word, he carried you in his arms, taking you to your room like a princess, as if you weighed nothing, he did it with the purest ease.

His grip was firm, as if he didn't want to let you go, he wanted to have you there, in his arms.

Your room was dark, lit only by the faint light of the moon, while the rain continued to fall outside. It wasn't long before he laid you down on the mattress, letting you sink into the soft surface.

The door locked, the baby asleep, just the two of you in that room. The perfect moment for what was about to happen.

No matter how many times Leon looked at you, he always lost his breath, his breath caught in his throat.

You were so beautiful, so perfect, he didn't know how he had been so lucky to have found someone like you, and he couldn't thank you enough for that.

His hands began to move slowly up your thigh, callused fingers caressing the soft skin, letting his hand wander over the flesh, touching you with all the passion he had to offer. And he would do this for the rest of your life.

His mouth finding your neck, his hot breath making you gasp, letting him do whatever he wanted with you.

Soon the wet kisses began, leaving his lips hovering over the weak spots that he knew, he knew exactly where to touch, because he knew well that every touch of his made your body shiver with desire.

"You're beautiful." He whispers, giving your thigh a light squeeze, feeling the soft fabric of your nightgown on the back of his hand.

You give a sly smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close.

He soon understands what you want, and he gives it to you right away. A tender, passionate kiss, gently capturing your lips.

You don't know how, but he always manages to show his devotion to you with every kiss, every touch, every night of love. He makes it seem like the first time, always showing you how much he loves you.

His fingers keep tracing your thigh, feeling how warm your body gets from his touch. Your body reacting under his, squirming and shivering, an incentive for him.

When he pulls away from you a little, just to stop the kiss. He nibbles your lip, lifts your leg and grabs the back of your thigh.

Making a point of giving you wet kisses all over your neck, shoulders, collar bone, all to hear the sweet sounds that escaped your lips every time, the way you begged softly for him to continue.

"Oh, fuck Leon..." You whimpered, watching his fingers purposely wrap around the strap of your panties, he was taking his time.

As he always did, because he wanted to make sure he gave you all the affection he could give.

As soon as their trail of kisses went down to your chest, he spared no effort in giving little kisses to your nipples, which were already hard, crying out for any kind of touch and attention.

It was more than enough for you to let out several moans and low squeaks, letting your hands nestle in his golden strands, feeling the softness they contained.

Both his hands slid under your nightgown, and before long his fingers were playing with the waist line of your panties, fingering and stretching, all the while keeping an eye on your every reaction.

The look he had in store for you was yours alone, he had never looked at anyone else like that. Nor would he ever, you were the only one capable of bringing it out of him. The only one.

Just as you never tired of looking into those gentle blue eyes, similar to the color of the sky, or even the ocean. You lost your breath every time.

And there he went, slowly dropping wet kisses over the thin fabric of your nightgown, feeling your body tremble beneath his, just as he made a point of running his fingers over the wet surface of your panties, only to give a smug smile, knowing that he could get you soaking wet for so little.

As soon as he reached your navel, he lifted your nightgown completely, exposing your lower body, which was enough for him to let out a low noise, excited by the image in front of him. Which only fueled his cock to throb even more under his pants.

"I wonder what I did to make you like this." Leon said with a sly, mischievous smile, sliding his index finger down your slit.

Did he know the answer? Of course he did. But it was nicer to hear it from your mouth, your sweet voice echoing through the room.

"You know, you just need to touch me..." You said with a pout, looking at him with piteous eyes, a look he already knew well. And yet it broke his smile every time.

"Because of me?" He purrs, pushing his fingertips against your covered pussy, teasing you as far as he can.

You whimper, spreading your legs as if it were an automatic reaction from your body. Understanding the signal, he pulls you a little closer to the edge of the bed, taking off your panties and sliding them down your legs, soon the garment was lying in a corner of the room.

You were there, completely exposed to him, legs dangling from his shoulders, clit throbbing and begging him to do something.

It felt like magic, every time he touched you he was able to drive you crazy with the smallest things. You often got wet just watching him, seeing the way the muscles in his arms flexed every time he held your legs tighter.

Or the way he always looked at you throughout the process, as he positioned his face close to your center, biting and licking your inner thigh, making sure to leave soft marks all over the area. He loved looking at the love bites the next day, not least because you looked beautiful with each one.

"You're all mine, aren't you?" He asked in a whisper, which sounded more like a question to himself. Especially because he didn't even need to hear the answer.

You were about to answer, but your mind turned to crumbs as soon as he started planting wet, caressing kisses in your folds, letting his tongue linger in certain spots.

His wet muscle slid into your wet pussy, making you arch your body and tremble under him. The tip of his tongue brushed against your clit, swirling around your sensitive part, enough for you to roll your eyes and moan a little louder.

"That's so good, so good..." You mumble, biting your lower lip to hold back your moans.

Every time he eat you out, he didn't hold back with the noises he made, he didn't even care about the slurping noises he made, or the way he did it in a completely sloppy way.

Not least because he never wasted any time, it wasn't long before he was fucking you with his tongue. Moving in and out, hitting all your sweet spots.

It didn't take long for you to be a mess, moaning and whimpering, your sounds echoing around the room. Your hands nestled in his hair, pushing his head against you, letting him get buried in your thighs.

Despite this, you couldn't help but crave his cock, a need to have it inside you, you needed him fucking you.

"Leon..." You called out, rolling your hips against his mouth, you could already feel your orgasm approaching.

He smiled sideways, kissing all over your intimate area, making a point of running his tongue over it in the process. The way he did this so masterfully left no doubt that he knew exactly what to do to bring you to the edge, he knew exactly.

As soon as he started tongue-fucking you one more time, it was enough for you to come apart in his mouth, gushing out all your climax. You could feel your body hot and bothered, your mind confused and without any other thoughts. It was surreal the way your orgasms with him were always that intense.

Just as he spared no expense in giving you sloppy, wet kisses on your wet folds, as if he were smoothing the area, taking the opportunity to clean up the mess that was between your legs. Even though he was about to make another one.

"It tastes fucking good, love." He purrs, licking his lips and lifting his head.

Having the beautiful image of you, with your legs spread, sweaty body, chest rising and falling. The way your eyelids were closed and your lips were open was more than enough to send a wave of electricity to his cock. Which, by the way, was already leaking pre-cum, the wet spot on his sweatpants was already clearly visible.

He wasted no time in removing his pants and underwear, letting his cock pop out. Which was a divine sign for you, seeing every inch of his shapely body, the way he was hard as a rock.

His cock resting in his palm, as he gave it a few small pumps, watching the precum drip down a little. Despite this, his eyes were focused on you, the way you bit your lip and stared at him.

"Please?" You ask in a whisper, spreading your legs even wider for him.

In response, he gives you a puffy smile, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, his sticky liquid pooling with your own juices.

You whimper and pout to get him in at once. As if on command, he obeyed, lifting your legs over his shoulder and fitting himself into you. Hissing once he was all the way in, the way your walls clenched around him was enough to elicit a grunt from him.

"So fucking eager..." He whispers in your ear, taking the opportunity to nibble on it. Making you gasp easily.

"Oh-Oh, so deep!" You moan, your nails sinking into the muscles of his back, a reaction he loved every time.

You can't say how, but he thrust into you in such a sensual way, his hips rolling with a dexterity you couldn't even describe in words. It was calm, sexy, who knows how you could describe it.

His eyes never left yours, he could reach all your weak points, all the places where he made you roll your eyes and curl your toes.

At that point, he didn't even try to understand you. Not least because you could only mumble half-words, whimpers or moans, and he couldn't have been prouder to leave you in that state. Your mind so foolish as he fucked you numb.

"Are you going to come already, love?" He asks softly, kissing your cheeks and pulling you even closer.

"Mhmhm." You hum and nod, feeling your walls tighten around him. Just like the feeling of butterflies in your stomach that you were beginning to feel.

He chuckled, speeding up his thrusts, making an even louder sound of skin hitting skin. He wouldn't be long either, he'd probably come right after you.

And there you went the moment he started making circles with his thumb on your clit, you're sure you went to heaven at the same moment.

Your lips parted only for you to let out a silent scream, a noise that came from deep in your throat. He was quick to pull you into a hot, thirsty kiss, moving at a much faster speed than before.

He wanted to get there now.

In and out he went, feeling his cock throb with each jerk of his hips. On the last thrust he came, thrusting deep, spilling all his seed into you, as deep as he could.

He let out a grunt through your lips, holding your sides tightly.

By the end you were panting, covered in a thin layer of sweat. When the kiss ended, he rested his forehead on yours, giving a silly, tired smile.

"Sore?" He murmurs under his breath, trailing kisses down your cheek.

"Maybe a little." You whisper, closing your eyes and sinking into the mattress.

He then gets off you and places you properly on the bed, rolling you under the covers, and then doing the same. He hugs you from behind and cuddles you, giving you massages in the places he knew would be sore. He loved worshiping your body, and you couldn't complain.

"I love you." He says, full of love and tenderness.

"I love you too." You return, kissing his hand.

You fell asleep a few minutes later, and he watched you sleep as always, giving you kisses and caresses from time to time.

He loved you so much he couldn't explain it, you were his comfort. Everything he needed most. You and your son were his adored little family.

And the way he loved you, he knew that you would be the death of him.

Oh God, how he loves you.

[ro-is-struggling]

The Princess and The Wolf || PART 1 || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Summary: A look inside the complicated love story between the runaway princess and the lone wolf that saved her.

Warnings: fluff, angst, mutual pining, really bittersweet, heavy narration and not much dialogue, female reader (use of she/her pronouns//reader is a princess), mentions of blood and injuries (reader heals Geralt’s wounds), my shitty titles (I’m so bad at it, I’m so sorry)

English is not my first language

Word count: 5000

Notes: Look,  I was in the mood for writing something cute and fluffy and magical (but also it's Geralt so it as to be angsty). I know those are probably not the words that come to your mind when you think of Geralt, but let me change your mind! Also I love writing healers/nature witches. Can you tell my fav character as a kid was Flora from Winx Club? 

This is my first time writing something like this (as in this style of narrative and for this character in particular) so be gentle!

PART 2 || PART 3

Geralt was not used to feeling that way. In his many years of living on this earth, he had never missed anyone the way he missed her. He was a lone wolf who, despite having his pack, enjoyed traveling from town to town with his horse as his only companion. He enjoyed the silence and tranquility, and did not tend to miss home too much —finding that his annual visits in the winter were more than enough to catch up with his brothers while healing his wounds. 

However, he did miss her when he was traveling. He missed feeling the warm touch of her skilled hands on his wounds as she healed him. He missed waking up to the sound of her laughter, talking to her cat as she prepared breakfast. He even missed her scolding and the look of concern she gave him every time he arrived at the door of her cabin hidden in the forest, injured. She made him feel special, often occupying his thoughts and dreams. He knew what it was, but refused to call it by name —if he did, it became real and he didn't know if he was ready for that.

Such was his longing to see her that he was almost happy to be wounded in battle, finding the perfect excuse to show up at her door once again. His wounds were deep, the beast's venom slowly spreading through his system. Were it not for the fact that he was close to her home, Geralt was fairly certain he would not have reached her in time. His healing skills were limited and only served to make his journey to the hut more bearable. Yet, the closer he got to her, the less his body ached. The promise of her company alone was enough to cure his afflictions.

Geralt was weak when he arrived at her door. From the way her natural cheerful expression turned into a worried grimace when she saw him on the other side of the wood, it was safe to assume he was not looking good. She rushed him to bed, asking him a thousand questions as she paced back and forth, gathering the necessary herbs and potions to treat his wounds. He answered no more than necessary, giving her just enough information to treat him and sparing her the details of his journey. 

He was distracted, his mind clouded by the lack of blood and the poison spreading through his body, but also by the sweet floral scent that surrounded him. It was a perfume he could only describe as the very essence of her, a mixture of jasmine, roses and a hint of vanilla that followed her everywhere, leaving a special scent in the air that assaulted the witcher's nostrils, rendering him powerless. 

"Drink this," she told him as she offered him a vial of a pale green liquid. It was a potion that would help with the poison, she explained, though he needed no reason to obey her. Geralt trusted her completely and would have drank anything she offered without question. 

"Try to hold still, this might sting a little." She warned him, pushing his clothes aside so she could treat the deep gash in his chest. She smeared her fingers with a paste that had a peculiar odor, rubbing it over her hands to warm it before directing them to the wound. Geralt was met with a burning sensation that spread from his wound to the rest of his chest as soon as her fingers made contact with his skin. He let out a grunt, fighting the spasms of his muscles to allow her to work comfortably. However, the burning was soon replaced by a sensation of pleasant warmth as she uttered an incantation in the ancient tongue. 

He concentrated on the harmonious sound of her voice, letting the words transport him back to that first time they had found themselves in a similar situation. He had been hired by the king to assassinate the beast that had killed the princess. It was said that it prowled the forest after sunset, it was there that the young girl had met her fatal fate. Her love for nature and the long walks under the moonlight was what had ultimately made her an easy prey for that monster. Geralt did not retain the specific details of that story, only what was useful to analyze his enemy. Had he done so, he might have realized that there were strange things in the story that would make any Witcher suspicious. And perhaps then he would not have been so surprised when he found the princess very much alive and well, wandering through the forest alone.

"Please, don't make me go back there." She had begged him after explaining that she had taken advantage of the beast's convenient appearance to escape from her home. "There's nothing waiting for me back there, only a future of unhappiness and subjugation to a man that doesn't respect me."

"I was hired to kill a beast and that's all I intend to do." Was his reply. He was more than ready to continue on his way, to leave her behind to sort out her fate while he dealt with what he had been hired to do, but the princess did not give him the opportunity. She begged for his help to escape from there, she didn't care where he took her as long as he got her as far away from her kingdom as possible. Her escape had not been planned, but a last minute decision that had not allowed her to pack supplies or even steal a horse from the stable. Still, she had been able to travel a fairly long way on foot, but it was evident that she could not continue like this much longer.

"I can't pay you in coin," she told him. "But I can make sure you survive your battle."

Geralt felt sorry for the young woman and was going to help her without asking for anything in return. He really doubted that she had anything valuable to offer him. He was a Witcher, an assassin highly trained in both combat and the arts of magic, tools he used to keep himself alive in the high-risk situations he lived in on a regular basis. However, his mercy proved useful after the battle, when the young princess demonstrated her healing abilities.

His wounds were deep, he was tired and his skin was painted with the reddish sticky liquid that ran through the beast's veins. But still, he was able to crawl to safety where she waited for him with his horse Roach. When she saw him approaching on the horizon she jumped to her feet, hands full of herbs she had gathered in preparation for that moment. Geralt could see nothing but a halo of light in the distance, a figure of hope running towards him with hair flying in the wind as it called his name.

He collapsed against a tree trunk, his breath hitching as the world around him became blurry and dark. He was not unconscious, but neither was he able to process what was happening around him. His memories of that moment were blurry, like a dream slipping from his mind upon awakening. The only thing he remembered clearly was a sweet female voice calling him back to life as soft hands caressed his skin, spreading their comforting warmth inside him.

Geralt had felt peace for the first time in a long while as her hands worked their magic on him, just as he felt at this very moment as her fingers caressed his skin once again. It always happened, her touch alone flooded his insides with peace and tranquility. Maybe that was why he missed her so much, maybe that was why he found himself visiting her for the simplest injuries that even he could heal. Unlike other healers, she was the only one who could calm his tormented soul, the only one who could quiet his thoughts and remove all traces of bitter negativity from his heart. 

"Rest." He heard her whisper in his ear and as much as he wanted to, he didn't have the strength to open his eyes and look at her one more time. Geralt knew he was tired, but only now, in the quiet of her company and wrapped in the warmth of her body, did he realize just how much. 

When he opened his eyes again it was morning. The rays of sunlight streaming through the window touched his face in a warm caress. His pupils were forced to adjust to the light as he opened his eyes, narrowing to almost two slits identical to those of the black cat resting beside him. The animal meowed contentedly as he shifted between the sheets —letting out a grunt of pain at the heaviness of his muscles. He stroked the cat as it purred at him, scratching its head and behind its ears as he knew it liked, before making an effort to get out of bed. His body ached and he still felt tired, but given what he had been through, he was lucky to be alive. 

Geralt heard the sweet sound of the young woman's voice echoing down the hallway like a melodious murmur that filled his heart with joy. It came from the garden, so that was where he went. He found her having a conversation with Roach, brushing the horse's mane while complaining about him to the animal as if it could talk back. They were harmless comments that he knew she didn't mean, though he'd heard them in the past —complaints about his recklessness and lack of responsibility as a horse owner were never lacking. She was especially fond of animals, so she loved to talk to his horse as if he were a human being. She did it with her cat as well, and with any animal that crossed her path. Geralt found it entertaining, though a bit excessive —especially when they traveled together and she made him stop every so often to pet and chat with every rabbit and squirrel in their path.

"What are you doing out of bed? You need to rest!" She scolded him as soon as her eyes landed on him. As firm as her gaze was, he could see concern rather than anger or annoyance reflected in them.

"I would have stayed in bed if I hadn't felt the need to come out and defend my good name." He played along, the corner of his mouth curving ever so slightly upward in an almost imperceptible movement. "I can't have you filling Roach's head with lies about me."

"They are not lies!" She grumbled, folding her arms in exaggerated annoyance. "You are reckless and you don't give poor Roach enough attention." At her words, the animal thumped its front left paw against the ground as if it understood what she had said and agreed. Geralt huffed, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.

"You already turned her against me." She laughed and it was like music to his ears, a melodious tone that awakened happiness within him. 

"I don't have to, she is a smart creature." She fired back, giving the horse a couple of gentle pets before setting aside what she was doing to focus her attention on him. "But seriously, you need to get back in bed."

"I'm fine." It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the truth either. She looked at him steadily and Geralt knew she thought she looked intimidating, but with the way the light of the rising sun framed her figure and the gentle breeze moving her hair, he saw nothing more than a forest fairy. The most beautiful and innocent fairy he had ever seen. He was tempted to challenge her just to tease her and make her grumble. She looked adorable when she pointed an accusatory finger at him believing that something she did or said could intimidate the Witcher. In the end he decided not to do so and instead accompanied her back into the house, though he did not lie down again, but sat with her at the kitchen table. 

She insisted on preparing breakfast on her own, arguing that he was her guest and that he was badly injured, so Geralt had the opportunity to admire her as she moved about the room, humming under her breath melodies he did not recognize. It made him genuinely happy to see her acting so freely around him, thinking about how far their relationship had come. When he had first met her, she was far from the confident, free spirit she was now. She was quiet and reserved, barely asking him questions from time to time to fill the void of silence and always apologizing for everything.

It was more than mere distrust of a stranger, Geralt could see in her eyes that she was trapped inside herself, a cocoon of fears and insecurities that trapped in its intricate net the beautiful butterfly that lurked within. She would show her true colors from time to time, like when he would catch her talking to Roach when she thought he was sleeping, or when she would make them stop to help a wounded animal. But she always apologized immediately afterwards, as if she realized too late that she had done something wrong, something she wasn't supposed to do. It made Geralt wonder what kind of life she had left behind when she ran away from home. 

He was not a man of many words and was used to traveling alone and in silence, accompanied only by the chirping of birds and the crunching of dry leaves under Roach's hooves, but when it came to her he felt a strange need to hear her speak. Perhaps it was the harmonious tone of her voice, or maybe the fact that he could tell she needed to express herself, but he didn't mind when she rambled absentmindedly as they traveled, putting into words every thought that crossed her mind. 

"I was never meant to be a princess, no matter what my blood says." She had confessed to him one afternoon as they walked through the forest. "The traditions, the politics, the expectations... I was never good at any of that."

"Is that why you ran away?" His question took her by surprise. He barely spoke to her so she assumed he wasn't listening to her most of the time. When she turned to look at him she found his yellow eyes fixed on her, making her feel small under his intense gaze.

"I wanted to be free." She answered honestly. "I refused to live trapped inside a castle for another day, pretending to be someone I'm not, pleasing everybody but myself... I want to forge my own path, build my own destiny. I have no idea what I'm doing or if it will even work, but I owe it to myself to try."

Geralt admired her for that. She wasn't sure what she wanted, but she knew what she didn't want and had had the courage to do something about it. That was why he was so glad things were going well for her. She deserved her freedom, she deserved to have the space to find herself and live her life on her terms. Her bravery had been rewarded.

"How are you feeling?" She asked him as she set a plate of food in front of him, her voice bringing him out of his thoughts. 

"I'm fine."

"Are you? Or are you doing that thing you do all the time when you pretend not to need anyone's help?" She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, proud of herself for knowing him so well. 

Geralt sighed. "I'm a bit sore and tired, but I'll live." He finally confessed.

"That's normal, you were really hurt. I'm amazed that you got here in one piece." 

"You should have seen the other guy." He joked sarcastically and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm being serious, Geralt. The poison could have killed you."

"It didn't."

"Only because of your slow heartbeat, but what if next time you don't get so lucky?" The tone of the conversation suddenly changed as they looked into each other's eyes. The familiar heavy tension in the air, making it hard to breathe. 

It was her greatest fear. She feared there would come a day when Geralt's wounds would be so bad that even she wouldn't be able to heal them. She feared it almost as much as never opening the door again and finding him on the other side. The thought of him dying, at home or out on the battlefield, terrified her. She knew it was stupid since he was a Witcher, a being genetically modified to face the greatest dangers, whose purpose in life was to kill monsters. She knew the smart thing to do would have been to get away from him in time, before his absence hurt her as much as it did. She knew there was no point in worrying about someone who had made peace with the idea of dying in battle, but she did it anyway. She couldn't help but fear for his safety the moment he set foot outside her home, worrying until he would eventually show up there again.

"Just... be careful." She muttered after a few seconds of silence, swallowing her emotions as a lump formed in her throat.

Geralt could see the pain in her eyes, the fear and worry shining in them clearly. He felt the need to assure her that he would be all right, but they both knew that was a lie. In his line of work one could never be sure of anything. Things could change very quickly and even he could be surprised with the cold caress of death sooner than expected. The best he could do was to assure her that he would do everything in his power to get back to her.

"I will be." 

That wasn't enough to dissipate the young woman's fears, but it was enough to calm her worries for the moment. Instead of concentrating on things she couldn't control, she chose to turn her attention to the things she could. After breakfast she inspected Geralt's wounds once more to make sure they were healing properly. With the help of her magic and the speed with which the Witcher's body regenerated, the deep gash that adorned his chest was now no more than a scratch. The skin was still red and irritated, but it was in better condition than just a few hours ago. The same with the rest of the cuts and scratches that graced the rest of his body, some of which had already disappeared completely, leaving behind a slightly discolored line on the skin.

She sat beside him as she worked, rubbing a healing paste of her own creation over what was left of his wounds. She focused her energy on him, eyes glued to the skin of his chest as she let her fingers work their magic. She knew it probably wasn't necessary, given the rapid evolution of his cuts they would most likely be practically healed in a couple more hours. But she wanted to do it. She didn't like to see him hurt, even if it was something that happened regularly. He always came to her bruised and bloody, but even then she never got used to seeing him like that. She hated to see him suffer, so when he was with her she would go out of her way to heal all the wounds on his body no matter how small or insignificant. She wanted to make her home a sanctuary for him, a place free of pain and danger where they were safe to be together.

Geralt could feel her energy enveloping him, the warmth her body radiated caressing his skin delicately. The scent of her hair flooded his nostrils, filling his lungs with that sweet floral perfume that was so distinctive to him. It was intoxicating, a drug he couldn't quit. He allowed himself to get lost in the moment, enjoying the soft touch of her hands on his chest and shoulders as he admired her work. She was beautiful, like a flower full of color and life that only grew stronger with each of his visits. Her smile, a ray of sunshine that lit up the gray, cloudy sky that was his life. And her eyes... oh her eyes. Geralt could get lost in them for hours, reading in her reflection every little thought that went through her head. To him she was an open book, the most fascinating he had read in a long time.

She became slightly nervous when she looked up and met Geralt's intense gaze fixed on her. They were close, too close to each other for her not to feel intimidated under the watchful admiration of his amber orbs. And yet, she couldn't look away from him. She couldn't help but marvel at the sharp angles of his features, counting the small scars that adorned his skin as her eyes traveled down his face. Those were two traits that people normally found intimidating about him. He had the face of a reckless warrior, a lone wolf with no feelings that augured trouble. But she knew him better than that, she knew the man behind the rumors and knew there was much more to his story and his character. When she looked at him she saw more than the dangerous Witcher. She saw the man who had saved her from her terrible fate, the one she missed and longed for when he was far away, the only man who occupied her thoughts. 

Geralt's eyes strayed to her lips as she caressed them with her tongue. It was an innocent act but he felt it as a temptation, a challenge he had every intention of accepting. He leaned forward, feeling her warm, slightly quickened breath colliding and mingling with his own. He held still for a moment, waiting for her to pull back and move away. When she didn't, Geralt moved a little closer to her until he felt the tip of her nose brush against his. When he looked up one last time, he noticed that she was looking at him with half lidded eyes, completely at his mercy. She was in a trance, lost in the deep amber of his eyes, with no thought in her mind but him. It was the moment they had both been waiting for, the culmination of all the tension that had built up.

But before they could join their lips in the long-awaited kiss, the sound of the cat jumping on top of the table interrupted them. The animal's meow broke the trance and she realized what was about to happen. Embarrassed, she pulled away from Geralt immediately, mumbling something about feeding the cat as she disappeared from his vision. He would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed, still longing to feel her lips on his, but perhaps it was for the best. If he kissed her he would never want to stop or leave again, and he knew that wasn't possible. His place was out there on the road with his horse as his only companion. He was not meant to stay in one place for long, his profession had taken that privilege away from him long ago.

“Your wounds are almost healed.” She stated as she returned to the room, picking up the cat and setting it down off the table. It was an excuse so she wouldn't have to look him in the eye when talking, something to occupy herself so she wouldn't think about what had just happened.

"Guess I'll be leaving tonight then." He was in no hurry to leave, he would gladly stay another week there with her if he could, but he knew that wasn't wise. He could never stay too long with her since he always feared the effects it might have. The more time he spent with her, sharing moments of domestic intimacy, the harder it was for him to get back on the road. The last time he had been there he had ended up running away in the middle of the night, knowing he couldn't leave if he had to look her in the eye and say goodbye. And now he feared that nothing had changed, so he had to get out of there before it was too late.

"I would rather you stay one more night and rest here." She said in a soft tone, trying to hide the true meaning behind her words. She didn't want him to leave, not yet. "Your physical wounds might be healing fast but don't forget that you were poisoned and you almost died. Witcher or not, that's a lot." 

"I'll be fine."

"Maybe, but would it kill you to stay here one more night for my own sake? Because if you walk through that door now, I will spend the rest of my days worrying about you until I see you again." She finally worked up the courage to look at him, pleading with her eyes for him to listen to her. She knew that if he wanted to leave there was nothing she could do to stop him, so she hoped he would have mercy on her. "I just want to make sure that you're alright."

Geralt couldn't refuse her even if he wanted to, not when she was looking at him with big, bright eyes full of love. Not when her voice was almost a whisper, as if she was afraid he would hear her. He understood the feeling, the fear of admitting what he really felt. But it was easier that way. It was the best thing for both of them. Their lives were incompatible as were their personalities. 

She was a nice sunny summer afternoon and he was a harsh winter night. She was a ray of sunshine that with her warm touch awakened life in everything around her and he was the cold, cruel snow that buried everything under a layer of ice. Maybe that was why he felt this inexplicable attraction to her, as if they were connected by an invisible thread that pulled him to her every time he tried to walk away. Her warmth melted the ice around him, allowing new things to blossom in the fertile soil. Only he didn't know if there was anything left under the ice that could bloom. If so, he had to be careful because her warmth, though pleasant and comforting, could lead to his doom.

Still, he ignored his brain's warnings, giving in to her pleas. They spent the day together and Geralt allowed himself to lose himself in the intimacy and domestic bliss of the moment. He indulged in the fantasy of a life by her side as he admired her dancing around the kitchen while cooking or moving among the plants as she tended to her garden, talking to the squirrels and birds that wandered by. He delighted in the sound of her voice as she called his name and enjoyed her melodious laughter. 

When the sun went down, she lay beside him on the bed, talking nonsense until her eyelids began to feel heavy. She denied being sleepy several times, assuring him that she was just resting her eyes. Geralt snorted, but said nothing, listening intently to the story she was telling him about a deer she had saved from death between masked yawns. She didn't get to finish the story, not consciously at least. She mumbled a couple of almost inaudible gibberish before falling asleep, fighting her last battle against her body's need for rest.

Geralt watched her sleep for a good while, his eyes admiring the peace on her face in the dim candlelight. She had never looked so ethereal, with her hair spread out on the pillow like a halo around her head, and her chest rising and falling slowly with her calm breathing. Her skin was soft under his touch, a stark contrast to the roughness of his fingers bruised from all the fighting and constant use of the sword. She was the most beautiful piece of art, a sculpture carved by the gods themselves. He almost felt unworthy to be by her side, the softness of her features reminding him once again how different they were, how wrong his feelings were. 

He got out of bed with a heavy heart, searching for his things while being very careful not to make a sound so as not to alert her. He couldn't stay there one more night, if he woke up in the morning with her by his side he would never want to leave and he knew very well that it wouldn't end well. So, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, just a brush of his lips against her skin as a farewell.

Geralt disappeared into the darkness of the night without leaving any trace of his presence. When she opened her eyes the next morning she was disappointed to find herself alone in bed. She didn't have to leave the room to know he was gone, she could feel his absence in the air. She felt lonely and cold again, already missing the warmth that filled her whenever he was around. Letting out a tired sigh, she dropped into a chair near the door. Her eyes were glued to the wood, her mind filled with thoughts of Geralt. She wondered if he was alright and if he was missing her as much as she was missing him. 

And just like that, the cycle continued, his departure leading the way to the stage of uncertainty and worry that grew in her with each passing day as she awaited his return. Her eyes remained glued to the door at all times, her ears attentive to the sounds waiting to hear Roach's footsteps approaching in the distance. She hated this moment. She hated not hearing from Geralt. She hated not being able to hear his low, raspy voice or feel the warmth of his body against hers. She hated the amount of energy she wasted worrying about him. But most of all, she hated knowing that all her suffering would be worth it the moment he came knocking on her door again.

I have more ideas for these two so if you guys like it let me know!

PART 2 HERE