Tumgik
#like the anniversary cake and. i think that's the only one
lilacgaby · 2 days
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Yay request open oh oh if youre in Gumi era just having idea can I have more of his domestic fluff like planning on their future life any kind of domestic will do (๑•́ω•̀) 💗💗
title: my heart is yours eternally
pairing: boyfriend-> husband!megumi x girlfriend->wife!reader
summary: megumi thought this life he planned was only one in fairytales, but as he looked at the life he built with you, he knew it was real.
note: i love megumi pls pls pls request him more ( ´ ▽ ` ).。o♡
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"i want a small wedding." he said out of the blue as you two laid in his bed, holding your hand in his and he looked over you. "one that's intimate, i don't mind you choosing the theme or anything."
as you nodded thoughtfully, you entangled your fingers together. "mhm. just for us. and i want you to have a pretty ring too, i think you'd look nice with one in silver."
"you think?" he replied, eyebrow raised.
"i know so. and we can have a huge wedding cake-"
"vanilla."
"yes vanilla, with ice cream too. just for us."
he seemed content with that, smiling softly. until a thought crossed over his mind and he looked down at you with a look in his eye.
"i'll get you a nice ring, i promise. you just need to wait." he said, determined.
"i'll wait for you 'til the end of time, 'gumi."
he flushed and squeezed your hand tighter, he had to get the best for you. he couldn't sleep right if he didn't.
"you want any kids 'gumi?" you asked absentmindedly, not noticing the way he choked on air at the thought. images of you pregnant ran through his mind, his mind spiraling as he failed to find the words.
"megumi?"
"oh, uh.. a brother and a sister. that's all we need."
"sounds good, i wouldn't want our baby to get lonely when we're gone after all."
he felt his mind sputter at the thought of your baby, with features from you and him.
the topic of conversation eventually changed to something different, a show you were watching. as he listened to you recount how happy you were that the characters you hated died, his mind still kept going back to the conversation you had earlier.
he fell asleep holding your hand, images of the life you'd have together running through vividly, like he could almost touch it.
since then, he was determined to make that a reality for the two of you.
he proposed to you on your anniversary, taking every possible note he could about the types of rings you liked before choosing one. as he held you hand in his and slid on the ring, kissing you with only the sunset behind you as witness, he felt truly loved.
the months spent planning your wedding weren't as stressful as you handled it together. finding the perfect venue, small like you both wanted.
going on dates to sample cakes, laughing at megumi's face of disgust. choosing the topper for the cake, opting for two loving bunnies at the top since none of them could get megumi's hair right.
choosing who to invite, megumi 'begrudgingly' inviting his old friends from jujutsu high, and you yours.
him going out with gojo and yuuji to pick the perfect suit, you choosing your dress with your most trusted friends.
walking down the aisle, megumi felt emotional since you were just so gorgeous, he never felt as luck as he did when you were announced husband and wife.
well actually, that's a lie.
when you gifted him a box, full of baby clothes and a stick with two life changing lines on it, he knew you were his good luck charm.
as he promised, he loved you through even your sickness. a lot of foods made you nauseous, so he'd started to learn how to cook because it was exhausting for you.
your bump was bigger than average, not like he'd say it to your face, but it was confirmed when you went to get your ultrasound. twins.
you squinted your eyes at him and jokingly hit him on his shoulder lightly, saying, "this is your fault!"
he only laughed. at your gender reveal, just a small thing between you two, you held hands and cut a cake slice out of the cake. to your surprise, it was blue and pink.
your stomach got huge, at 9 months you just wanted your kids out. megumi would take you out on walks everyday, well just strolls around your house technically, but it was a lot for you.
on day number 3, your water broke. you thought you'd finally feel relieved, but good thing megumi was there because you panicked. he was too but mentally.
as you delivered your babies, the son first, you squeezed his hand for dear life.
when you went home with 2 kids a couple days later, you sleeping as megumi held the two in the rocking chair he'd picked out, he felt like it was a dream.
when you awoke, and he'd matched the features of your son who took after you and your daughter after him, his heart fluttered as he felt his body soar.
this is what love is, and this is what he dreamt of.
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tempestmothstorm · 16 days
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Ok but why is Natsuki the only character to get one pair of casual clothes. Like her Sayori and Yuri get their weekend outfits but those two also get another outfit in extra artwork (the overalls and the black dress) and while Monika gets nothing in game her twitter gives her both her white dress and sweater outfits. So everyone gets like an indoor and outdoor outfit but Natsuki apparently owns nothing else and just wears a shirt skirt combo forever. She is the universe’s least favourite child just give her something please
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yoohyeon · 4 months
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I barely register that we are 2024 right now what do you mean my birthday is in 10 days and I’m going to be 26 😭😭😭😭😭
#i just realize if I want to celebrate it Need to me next Saturday cause my parents anniversary is June 1st#so now I’m panicking a little since it’s last minute ckdbjdjd#but I kinda want to hold a game night#my cousin dosen’t have her kid and her sister just separated I think it would do her good 🥺#and I guess she has her kids on the same weekend the other has hers so they can see each other#I’ll have to ask#cause no job and my parents don’t have a lot of money especially my mom she had to pay for Puppy’s pills 😭#i usually go bowling but that sounds fun too especially since we didn’t do it on new year like usual#Idk if their brother is free it would be perfect (since he’s my godfather and I never see him)#and if need to I’ll make my own cake bfkdbdjjd#and I don’t like it that much but my dad can make his spaghetti my family love it so much and it wouldn’t be pricy to do for a lot of people#i Need to talk to them about it I hope they accept 😭#i also need to make me aunt leave her house 😂 she will for me and her daughters (kids the third one is free) 😌#i don’t think my brother will be here tho I saw him every weekend this month 😭 ckbsjd#at least he wasn’t annoying this time he was super nice#the last time I saw him I wanted to beat him up#I’m a simple girl I just need a cake and family to have a happy bday 🥰#i also need to look for gift that don’t cost a lot cause my mom want to make me a gift and like I said the money is limited#it’s okay if I don’t have a game or Pokémon cards for once ekxbdjdn#or albums#unless I can find one that is surprisingly not pricy but I don’t think it exist 😂#my dad’s gift is my Purki tickets so it’s only her#alex.txt
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fingertipsmp3 · 1 year
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Please God grant me, your weakest soldier and least favourite child, the strength to get through this family dinner today
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astonmartinii · 11 months
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peas in a pod | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem!russell!reader
y/n and george russell may be twins, but they’re hardly two peas in a pod and oscar is just there for the ride
MASTERLIST | TIPS
yourusername
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liked by georgerussell63, oscarpiastri and 602,344 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: are you alex’s appendix cause you make me wanna bust 😩
view all comments
user1: excuse me 😀
user2: sometimes i’m like yeah george and y/n are defo twins and then she says shit like this and i’m like they can’t be related
alexalbon: erm what is is ?
yourusername: gosh so other people can use your appendicitis for a seat but i can’t use it to appreciate my boyf - PC gone crazy
alexalbon: the only censorship you’ll need is when my foot is up your ass
yourusername: i’d love to see you try i’ll put you back in the hospital
alexalbon: you say that but when i woke up in hospital you were crying your eyes out begging me to never do that again 🤨
yourusername: i was CHANNELLING GEORGE OBVIOUSLY
oscarpiastri: she cried about it for a good week after alex dw she loves you really
yourusername: TURNCOAT say goodbye to your bedtime privileges
georgerussell63: okay we’ll stop right there, y/n is sorry for joking about your appendicitis alex, and y/n we will not be discussing extracurricular activities with oscar. thank you.
user3: what about the people who want to hear about the extracurriculars? and maybe want to … see them?
yourusername: @oscarpiastri how do you think mclaren would feel about an onlyfans?
oscarpiastri: i think it’ll be a hard no
yourusername: ugh boring
user4: y/n talking about an onlyfans whereas i don’t believe george has even seen a naked woman
oscarpiastri: i love you and your dumb fucking pick up lines
yourusername: what do you mean i’m literally the reincarnation of william shakespeare?
georgerussell63: more like e l james
yourusername: i knew it was you who stole my copy of 50 shades GIVE IT BACK
yourusername: anyhow … i love you too babe x
user5: every comment section we learn new y/n russell lore and it shocks me everytime
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oscarpiastri
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 734,513 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: in this house i guess we celebrate hit tweets? happy one year anniversary to the alpine breakup
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user6: CAKE SCARED ME FOR A SEC I WON'T LIE
yourusername: i think the technical term is “stunting on these hoes”
oscarpiastri: for pr reasons i will not be agreeing
yourusername: @ otmar HE BROKE I’M UP
oscarpiastri: you’re going to get me into even more trouble than that tweet did
yourusername: blame me and tell them to meet me in the car park, no weapons just fists
oscarpiastri: maybe let’s not
yourusername: you don’t wanna be my sexy ring girl? :(
georgerussell63: one day of not threatening people is all i ask for
yourusername: you weren’t saying that when i beat that year 13 guy’s ass in year ten for picking on you 🤨
georgerussell63: well yes but needs must
oscarpiastri: sorry george i’m siding with y/n she’s not afraid to tell the waiter they got my order wrong
landonorris: and she can square up to the people who won’t leave us alone in clubs
georgerussell63: okay i get it damn
yourusername: SMASH
alexalbon: you can’t let anything be normal can you?
yourusername: since you wanna be in my business… lily is a smash too
alexalbon: excuse me?
yourusername: let it be known if i weren’t already with the love of my life, id steal your girl
lilymunhe: oh wow … umm ☺️😳
alexalbon: OSCAR DO SOMETHING
oscarpiastri: idk bro im focusing on being called the love of y/n’s life
user7: silly season was so boring this year thank the lord we have y/n to cause chaos
georgerussell63: do not encourage her
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 823,410 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: you think i look bad, you should see the other girl. don’t touch men without their consent - and definitely don’t touch my man or you will be dealt with. trust.
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user8: someone leaked the video and omg that girl has hands
user9: she did NAWT hold back omg
oscarpiastri: i love you, thank you for defending my honour
yourusername: i love you too, i’d protect you with my life but don’t get it twisted, i’d throw hands for anyone
oscarpiastri: no but for real i’m very thankful for you standing up for me
user10: why is everyone praising this? all this shows me is that piastri is a pussy that needs his gross girlfriend to stand up for him?
yourusername: i’m going to stop you right there. that girl thought she could touch a man without his consent, and it’s completely out of order. so she was handed the consequences. oscar couldn’t do anything so it fell into my hands. you are the problem, do not talk down to him or other victims in those situations.
georgerussell63: as much as i joke, im glad you and oscar have each other.
yourusername: thank you georgie
oscarpiastri: thanks george, but your sister is the real knight in shining armour here
yourusername: i'll always save you princess 👸
alexalbon: everyone is being very sentimental but YO I KNEW YOU SAID YOU HAD HANDS BUT DAMN
user11: alex spill how brutal was it?
alexalbon: i had a front seat and it was like prime anthony joshua she was NOT playing
yourusername: oh wow that’s a big statement
alexalbon: i don’t wanna sound unprofessional but it was honestly crazy and i am so impressed y/n should really consider combat sports
yourusername: in my defence she just fully turned in on my fist
georgerussell63: okay normal service resumed she's making fun of me again :(
user12: why are we celebrating violence?
user13: people have no respect for the drivers these days, just because you’re in the same club as them does not mean that you’re entitled to harass them ??? you fuck around you’re going to find out… esp when y/n is around LOL
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oscarpiastri
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liked by georgerussell63, yourusername and 1,023,444 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: so a lot has happened. i don't want to give the girl any more attention. i love my girlfriend and i love how much she loves me. cry more.
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user14: OOP HE GAGGED THE HOES
georgerussell63: "cry more" y/n has clearly been rubbing off on you
yourusername: i can assure you i've done much more than just rub off on him
georgerussell63: NO NO STOP RIGHT THERE MISSY
oscarpiastri: to be fair you walked right into that one george
georgerussell63: introducing you two really is the stupidest thing i've ever done
oscarpiastri: first of all, arthur introduced us months before you "introduced us", second of all, this is a lot coming from the guy who cried to me about how i'm so great for your sister and can't wait to have me as a brother-in-law
yourusername: AWWW GEORGIE YOU SOFTIE
georgerussell63: yes i am soft. i love love. sue me gosh.
user15: they are so aesthetically pleasing to my eyes
landonorris: so does like y/n wanna give self defence classes?
yourusername: for a price, soz nothing comes for free in this economy
danielricciardo: please can you do classes? i wanna harness your rabid chihuahua energy
yourusername: i am NOT. a chihuahua take that back daniel
oscarpiastri: she's more like a kangaroo, cute but will steal your dog and beat your ass
yourusername: true, i just wanna put you in my pouch
yourusername: that sounds weird, but i just wanna hold you and never let go
danielricciardo: okay i was just messing around no need to be disgustingly cute
logansargeant: i'm glad you're both okay, but that room service debrief went so hard
oscarpiastri: honestly if i weren't holding an ice pack to my girlfriend's face it would've been top two
yourusername: eh i think it's still top two, nothing is unseating when we were next door to lando shagging and we made it a drinking game 😭
landonorris: WHAT ????
oscarpiastri: no comment
logansargeant: no comment
yourusername: it was drink every time you moaned impressively loud 👍
landonorris: no comment
alexalbon
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 822,304 others
tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri, lilymunhe
alexalbon: idc you can never get me to hate her ass if you poke the bear expect to get bitten
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user16: sorry to the galex truthers but y/n and alex are the superior friendship
yourusername: i knew you loved me + and i knew you loved oscar SEND ME THE LAST PIC NEW LOCKSCREEN INCOMING
alexalbon: i've been the personal photographer for both russells for years and i'm only just being appreciated
yourusername: HOLD ON i take just as many of you and lily
alexalbon: well that's easier because we're much easier to photograph
oscarpiastri: WOAH hold your horses pal, call me ugly all you want but one shall not dishonour y/n
alexalbon: okay someone spent the break at the russell house
yourusername: HE'S NOT UGLY YOU POOL NOODLE TAKE IT BACK
alexalbon: damn it's a tough crowd. and on a post literally appreciating you
yourusername: bare minimum
user17: okay the kardashians are over - netflix can we please get a drive to survive spin off about y/n, george, oscar and alex ????
landonorris: lando norris erasure
charles_leclerc: charles leclerc erasure
oscarpiastri: move over twitch quartet, there's a new sheriff in town
landonorris: okay i'm banning y/n from mclaren you've spent too much time with her and now a rookie is bullying me :(
yourusername: he ate you up... i'm so proud
landonorris: is this the environment the russells promote? @georgerussell63
georgerussell63: you're on your own on this one lando i gave up years ago
yourusername: @oscarpiastri i think that's called maximising our joint slay
oscarpiastri: they wish they were us for real
user18: i love watching a black cat gf slowly corrupt her golden retriever bf
yourusername: oscar is like an evil little kitten really
oscarpiastri: and you love it
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note: quick one cause i'm in my feelings. enjoy this random oscar cuteness he is an aussie queen (also a friend of mine literally went to the same school as him it's so weird)
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gojonanami · 10 months
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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 - 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
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summary: it's gojo's birthday, and he can't help but reflect on what birthdays have meant to him over the years, especially the year you decide you don't really want to do anything for his birthday (but it turns out you do).
contents: angst then fluff, i promise there's a happy ending, you just have to earn it, shibuya does not happen in this timeline, instead we celebrate gojo, slightly angsty, reflections on events of jjk 0, crack, all of gojo's students (aside yuta and hakari and rirara make an appearance), mentions of sex/pregnancy, innuendo
word count: 2,821
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December 7, 1989. 
A day that had changed the balance of the jujutsu world irrevocably — the day Satoru Gojo had burst onto the scene. 
But to Satoru, the anniversary of that day had meant nothing to him for most of his life. It was another day in the calendar — the caretakers from the Gojo clan cared not for his birthday, as they did his development as the head and face of the Gojo clan. He had received the best of everything — the best foods, the best training, the best room in the compound. 
At least, the strongest sorcerer had. 
Satoru Gojo had barely received anything more than reverent bows, averted gazes, and hushed whispers — and he saw them all, with the six eyes he never had asked for. And Satoru Gojo had grown up without affection or anything of the sort — to the point where he had thought he was simply beyond that — love, compassion, or friendship — no, the only thing he had was duty. 
And birthdays only served as a marker that he had lived another year. 
Until they meant something more — when he had met Suguru, Shoko, and you. And then it had meant something for a little while. It meant a celebration with his friends — with a cake that you and Suguru had hastily made after a mission, while Shoko hung decorations (with the help of one of Suguru’s curses reaching the high points). It had meant forcing Nanami to wear a party hat against his will (Shoko and Haibara’s doing), and Satoru inevitably smearing cake on your face to start an all out food fight (which only ended with Satoru getting scolded and smacked on the head by Yaga, even on his birthday). And it meant you, Suguru, and Shoko giving him his first real birthday present — something he had never received in fifteen years of living. It meant something more. 
Until it didn’t, again. 
Because, now, it was another year he had spent without his best friend. Another year he watched other sorcerers die. Another year he had to spend apart from you and Shoko because you or he had been sent on missions while Shoko was stuck in the infirmary or the morgue. 
And now, this year it was the first time he had a birthday that Suguru wouldn’t age. He would never age again. He would stay 28 forever, and Satoru — he didn’t know what age he’d turn. He hoped he would die before old age or disease took him — he rather not live long enough for that. Although you and Suguru always joked that he would be even better looking as an old man. 
But all Satoru could think about was growing old alone — without anyone else around him. He was the strongest after all, how could anyone else survive? People around him were killed off one by one — and he was left all alone. And maybe that’s why he didn’t like birthdays — it was just another year, another year older — another year marking who had left him. 
And so many did. 
And how many birthdays would pass until he lost another? Would it be one of his students? Would it be Nanami? Would it be Shoko? Would it be you? 
You…you were someone he couldn’t bear to lose. He had already lost you once. Pushed you away after Geto defected, pushed himself into work until he was burnt out, and pushed away any thoughts that he had of you. It didn’t last. It wasn’t a year until you had battered at his walls and his actual door, forcing your way back into his life. 
And he was thankful you did, because he didn’t know if he would have found his way out of the hole he had dug himself in — before the dirt covered and buried him. 
You — you would never let his birthday go. You never let him go a year without making him feel special, in one way or another. Last year, you had baked him his favorite cake, took him on a trip to a hot spring, and made arrangements to make sure the two of you weren’t disturbed the entire weekend (which was a feat of miracles on par with his six eyes and limitless itself). 
“C’mon, just tell meeeee,” 
And the strongest sorcerer’s snatching your gradebook out of your hand for the millionth time, and you surely look unamused, brow knit together, as you rub your temples, “You know living with you is worse than a child,” 
“Wanna test your theory? I could fill you up right now and nine months—” 
“I’m going to murder you,” and he only shrugs, all too smug. 
“You’d miss me too much,” and he adds, “plus I know you’re strong, but you couldn’t—” 
“Finish that sentence and you’re sleeping on the couch all week, I don’t care if it is your birthday tomorrow,” and he meets your gaze, and you’re unwavering, as he sighs, and hands over your grade book. 
“We really aren’t doing anything?” your husband asks, raising a single eyebrow curiously, “you always have something up your sleeve, sweetheart,” 
You frown, setting your grade book aside, “I just thought with everything going on — Yuji’s appearance, the special grades running around — I don’t think we should be away right now, and I thought we could do something small, just you and me,” 
He nods slowly, a smile shoddily crafted and pasted on his lips, “Yeah, bet if I leave, the higher ups may try to pull something on Yuji,” he sighs dramatically, leaning his head back on the couch, “what a curse to be the strongest,” 
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” you press a kiss to his forehead, “you sure you’re okay with not doing anything?” 
“Of course,” he finds your lips in a kiss.  
But why wasn’t he? 
He wasn’t one to care for things like this. He thought he was beyond caring about things like this. But all he could feel was the festering urge of disappointment seeping into his thoughts. Even the next day, the universe seemed to be against him, sent on a wild goose chase mission to hunt down a supposed special grade only to find two grade A curses that he took care of with ease. 
He trodded back home to you — lips still in a pout that he couldn’t even enjoy his morning with you on his birthday. He didn’t even get to enjoy cuddling with you — woken up to travel across the country to deal with some curses he didn’t need to handle. 
It didn’t used to be like this — sent off to do missions alone. Again and again. Heavy was the head that bore the crown, but no one had mentioned how lonely it was. Lonely even surrounded by those who tried to understand him — and he had you, he had you, but how could anyone truly see him for who he was — when he didn’t feel like he knew who he was anymore. Suguru’s question still rang in his ears — was he the strongest because he was Gojo Satoru, or was he Gojo Satoru because he was the strongest? 
And all these years later, he still didn’t know the answer. He didn’t know if he would ever know the answer. 
But he didn’t have time to linger on his thoughts as he spotted his home in the distance, but that wasn’t all he saw — there was a lot more cursed energy at home than usual — multiple people in his home, and his lips curled. 
He sneaks up, diminishing his presence to nothing, as he pressed his ear to the door, and he could hear them — 
“Too high, Itadori, lower!” Nobara barked, and Yuuji groaned, “come on, how long is it gonna take you to do this?” 
“Then why don’t you get up here and do it?” he snaps back, and Nobara scoffs. 
“I’m supervising, that’s why,” 
“EH? Who else are you supervising besides me?” 
“Stop messing around you two, and get the banner hung,” Megumi sighs, and Satoru could imagine him scowling, “Inumaki-senpai, do you need more balloons?” 
“Salmon,” 
“Maki, hurry up with cutting those strawberries, Nanami is almost done frosting the cake,” Satoru could hear Panda chewing and then a distinct THUNCK. 
“THEN STOP EATING THEM YOU DAMN ANIMAL!” 
“Alright, alright, stop fighting guys,” Satoru heard you sigh, “Nanami, I hope the frosting and cakes I baked were decent — I followed the recipe you gave me to a tee,” 
“You did a good job from what I could tell, but I’m pretty sure you could feed that idiot a plain cup of sugar, and he’d like it just the same,” and Satoru pouts, hearing Shoko laugh as well. 
“Especially if it’s from you,” Shoko teases you, as you scoff playfully, “can’t believe you two got married still — won’t be long until there are little Gojos running around, if Satoru has his way, with the way he’s been railing you,”
“Can we change the subject?” Nanami asks, disgust evident. 
You only chuckle, “Well, he’s insisted that we start trying once things settle down, saying it never hurts to practice, but—” and then your phone chimes, “Yaga said Toru’s on his way back for a while, he should be close.” 
There’s a mad dash and scramble as they put everything in its place, and Satoru leans against the side of the house — they even put up a curtain to hide their cursed energy on the inside, prioritizing invisibility. 
And Satoru grins  — all this for him? 
“Let me video call him and see where he is — I think I can distract him enough,” and he teleports down the road from his home, as your phone call comes through, “hi birthday boy, are you almost home?” 
“Almost,” he hums, “need something, sweetheart?” 
“Just my lovely husband home so I can cuddle him,” you smile, and he can see you’re walking into your shared bedroom now, sound of the door closing behind you, “got a surprise on for you under this dress,” 
And he’s pausing, “is that right?” And the party ebbs away from his mind, as your fingers slid the straps of your dress down, and teasing the baby blue and white lingerie set underneath, “my perfect birthday gift — all ready for me to unwrap?” 
“As soon as you get home,” and all blood flees his brain and heads southward, “I’ll be waiting,” 
And you disconnect the call — and he’s rushing now, party be damned. He would have you in bed, even if he had to sneak away with you upstairs for five minutes. 
He unlocks the door, and hears several bangs from poppers, as all of his students, colleagues, and friends shout “surprise!” And he smiles, glancing around at the birthday decorations, the birthday cake precariously balanced in Yuji’s hands, and you — grinning right at the front of the group, holding a bouquet of red roses. 
Everyone is stepping up to wish him a happy birthday, even grumbling happy birthdays from Megumi and Maki, as his arms curl around you after, “did I fool you?” 
And he only smiles, “I’m always a fool for you, sweetheart,” and his lips find yours, only yielding disgusted groans from most of your students, “and don’t think I forgot about my present,” he whispers, while pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, “I have a feeling I’ll be tearing off the wrapping soon enough,” he winks. 
You roll your eyes, “Party first, presents later,” your hand finds his as you take him to mingle. 
Satoru doesn’t get his wish of a secret rendezvous with you — but he does get several other gifts from his students — a blue ray of Human Earthworm 4 from Yuji, Crocs from Nobara (“they’re as tacky as you are”), Megumi gives a gift card (Yuji: “No creativity,” Nobara: “Seriously how boring,” and Yuji earns a fist to the head from Megumi). The second years’ pitched in and bought him a book on ‘how to date’ (“it was Yuta’s idea — he’s not sure you know how to date even after getting married”). 
He’s being pulled over to cut the cake that Yuji miraculously only dropped once (but Maki had luckily caught), you at his side, as everyone crowds around for him to cut it, and he thinks, maybe he doesn’t need to be understood as the strongest — maybe he can just be understood as Satoru Gojo, and that can be enough. 
And he blows out his candles, as your fingers interlaced with his, and he’s cutting a particularly big chunk to feed you, nearly smearing it over your lips, “What did you wish for—umph—” and he’s kissing you, the sweet frosting didn’t compare to the sweetness of your lips, your fingers finding his shoulder, and he barely hears the groans of his students, parting as you softly pant, beautiful smile spread on your face, “Toru—” 
“I have everything I could wish for,” and he’s pressing his forehead to yours, before you kiss his nose, only to drag some frosting across his cheek, “oi!” 
“That’s for smearing cake all over my face,” you brush the crumbs from your chin, and he only grins wider. 
As he’s pulling you close with an arm around your waist, his breath warm against your lips, “Will you help clean it off?” and you roll your eyes, as his students grimace at his words, booing him. 
You only give a small smile, and kiss his cheek, whispering, “...after they leave,” and they do soon enough, after everyone enjoys their slice of cake and a few drinks (Yuji sneaking a glass of wine when Nanami isn’t looking), they leave to go back home. 
Satoru collapses on the couch first, and then you toss yourself beside him, throwing your legs over his lap, “Tired?” you curl yourself against him, your head finding his shoulder, nose brushing against the warm nape of his neck. 
“Was that mission earlier your doing?” 
“Well how else would I get you out of the house with all your pestering? And knowing you, you would have kept me in bed all morning,” and he laughs, as his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you properly into his lap. 
“How’d you see my birthday wish list?” and you scoff, as he presses sweet kisses to your neck, “you still have one more gift to give me, one that you teased me with earlier,” and his fingers are creeping up your bare thigh, squeezing teasingly at your flesh. 
“Two more, actually,” and he’s tilting his head, as you grab the bouquet of flowers from the coffee table where he had left it, “you missed something in here,” 
And he’s smiling, as he pulls a small box nestled in the middle of the roses, “What’s this—” and his fingers are too quick for his question, as he’s met with your gift. 
Positive. 
He stares — stares if it would disappear before his eyes, that somehow the six eyes were wrong this one time — the one time it mattered. 
“Are you really surprised with all the practice we’ve been getting in?” and he gives a brief chuckle, shaking his head, as you chew your lip at his relative silence, “wow, have I rendered the great Satoru Gojo — the man who never shuts up even when he should — speechless?” he still says nothing, “Toru? Say somethin—” 
And his arms are wrapping you in a hug, pulling you fully into his lap, as he engulfs you in his warmth, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “Are you sure I’m the father?” 
You snort, “Satoru, I swear to god, I’m going—” 
And his lips find yours in a sweet kiss, palms cupping your cheeks, as his blue eyes swim with a happiness you’d rarely seen before, as he presses kisses all over your face, until he’s kneeling before your stomach, pressing a sweet kiss to it. 
“You better look like your mom or I’m going to demand a re-do,” 
You huff, “Satoru, we aren’t having another kid for at least three years—” 
“We didn’t mean to have a kid right now, but we are,” he gives a devilish smirk, before you cross your arms, unamused. 
“I swear, we have another kid before three years are up, and I’m sleeping in a separate bedroom,” and his arms are looping around your waist to pull you close. 
“You can’t resist me for that long,” and he’s pulling into a kiss again, your arms wrapping around his neck, as your lips part. 
“Try me,” and he pouts before you laugh, tugging him to the bedroom, “come on, birthday boy, I believe I owe you one last present,” and his lips are curled again as he follows you eagerly, your dress over your head and on the bedroom floor before he’s two steps into the room. 
December 7, 2018. 
A day that changed the balance of Satoru Gojo’s family life — for the better. 
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a/n: this was supposed to be pure fluff but turned into angst / fluff - as always. i can't write anything w/o angst.
tag list: @merzel69695, @senseiigojo, @forest-fruits-jam, @forest-hashira, @amanemisamisa, @ririthedevil, @a1is0n-png, @chosomoso, @hawkwithsocks, @aliyalala, @icecubesaredelicous, @sugurusdiscordmoderator, @acewoo, @sodoney,
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lucysarah-c · 1 month
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Levi's horrible flirting skills part 8.
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Masterlist link to all the previous parts.
“So... King’s anniversary’s coronation. Are you coming?” Erwin casually dropped the question without a clear addressee, or at least in Levi’s opinion, as he played with a pen while waiting for the early morning meeting to end. He had only slept a very counted number of hours. 
But as the silence reigned, it made him raise his attention, fearing that the question was directed at him. And indeed, it was. Erwin was looking at him. 
“Are you coming?” Erwin insisted. “I don’t think I’ve to remind you how important this event is.” 
Escaping the intense blue eyes, Levi pretended to be interested in anything else inside the room. “I... I’m rather busy. I’ve got a lot of delayed paperwork I should work on over the weekend.” 
The commander looked exhausted as he stared back at him, the invitation slowly dropping onto the table. “I’m sure your boss, me, wouldn’t mind you presenting your work a couple of days later.” 
“You don’t know my boss.” 
Erwin sighed loudly and put away the letter with the invitation. “You know, very influential and powerful people attend these events. It would be great for the Scouts’ economy if you could go and land us some donations.” 
He passed his plus-one invitation to Hange so they could try to get some donations for their titan investigations. Levi fought the urge to roll his eyes as Erwin’s speech was so frequent and repeated, like a mother angry at returning home to find the dishes not cleaned. 
“You know that me and influential filthy pigs don’t get along.” 
“Hey, I’ve been part of the Scouts longer, and he gets his own invitation while I get a plus-one?” The brunette complained. 
“’Cause you’re not Humanity’s strongest?” Levi asked back with a raised eyebrow. “If you want it, I’ll gladly give you that stupid invitation.” 
“Ugh, since that title landed you a date with that nurse of yours, you’ve gotten cocky about it,” Hange pointed out playfully, intending to get on Levi’s last nerve. 
Erwin chuckled as Levi squinted his eyes. “She didn’t go out with me because of it.” 
“Not even you believe that,” unlikely of him, Erwin joined in on the joke, making Levi roll his eyes and frown deeply. 
“You two are just so fucking jealous. When was the last time any of your titles or medals got you a chick?” 
The other two’s silence spoke volumes as they searched for a proper comeback. 
He began to notice the small changes, like when they met again in a hallway. She greeted him first over Erwin and, very important detail, she still called him “captain,” but Levi swore it had an underlying sexy accent to it... or at least that’s what he liked to believe. 
The first rule in the animal world is to land her interest; the second one? Maintain it. That means marking territory. This time subtly, he was not committing the same mistake twice. 
How many hours was Levi sleeping to manage getting his paperwork done, his work as a captain, and trying to pay her as many visits as he could when he was over at the Capital for meetings? None, but at least he made sure a good couple of the MPs, who also walked around the hospital trying to land a nurse girlfriend, would think twice before approaching her. 
“You want scones? It was my day for buying supplies for the staff room,” she commented while moving around, preparing tea. Levi was there doing paperwork he brought with him. Balancing both of their schedules wasn’t particularly easy, and perhaps that’s why their second date was just going to be a little after-work dinner. 
‘Maybe... it’s my moment to casually imply that I don’t have a sweet tooth.’ 
“I don’t like sweet stuff, actually.” 
‘...great, just great.’ 
The confusion was all over her face as she turned around. “Oh...” she softly frowned as she gave it a deeper thought, “...but I gifted you a cake.” 
“Yeah.” 
Lips pressed together as she stared at him. “You could just tell me.” 
‘Yeah well, the time I tried to just tell ya, you got angry at me for a good fucking time, so perhaps it wasn’t the best idea.’ 
How many times had he seen the same picture he had right in front of him, only separated by a couple of steps? Eyes rolling and clicking his tongue, finding it so idiotic that it was even annoying. The only sort of speech he could come up with for his own defense was that “he wasn’t in service,” and usually they were. 
Yes, they. Military police members walking around downtown without the jackets of the uniform on, but instead, the green unicorn swinging as any of their girls walked around with them on their shoulders. 
There she was, the wings of freedom adorning her back. The sleeves weren’t on, just the shoulder pads casually resting on hers, preventing it from falling but not secured enough. ‘It’s like too cold... but too warm for my coat,’ she had mentioned as they exited the building, doing honor to the season where taking the winter coat early in the morning is a good idea but, by afternoon, it hangs on your arm. 
“Here,” he had said, and before he knew it, he was seeing her walking slightly ahead of him with the jackets contrasting against her doveish uniform. 
Marking territory, isn’t it all about that? Especially at the Capital, where all the MPs are looking at them as if they were the most absurd of all couples or perhaps it’s just plain jealousy. 
“You’re going to love them! The food is so good, and the portions are huge,” she commented behind him as she guided him through streets it was rather obvious she knew better than him. As the sky turned coral, with days getting longer, the golden hour only helped highlight how cute he found her like that. 
‘I’ve become what I swore to destroy...’ 
“I’m asking for a small one because if I eat too much, I am gonna fall asleep, and today I’ve got night service,” she commented, looking at the options at the street stand. 
‘Thank god her suggestion wasn’t some stupidly fancy shop at Mitras that would force me to eat plain rice for the rest of the month.’ 
“You work tonight?” he commented back as he decided what to eat. 
“Yes, there are a lot of mothers who reported feeling contractions. I may be working all night,” she replied before pointing, “If you like spicy, those sauces are great.” 
He handed the money to the owner as he received both options and passed hers forward with his left hand. 
“Thank you~” she sang, smiling back at him. 
“You’re welcome,” he muttered as he put away the change back in his wallet. 
‘Havin’ a girlfriend is expensive.’ 
He felt the tug from his arm as she gripped his hand and began to guide him. “Come on, I know a good spot at the park,” she said enthusiastically as she hand-hold dragged him. 
Her hand felt stupidly soft against his, he thought, and delicate as if the absurd feeling of breaking it crossed his mind. 
‘...but 100% worth it.’ 
He let her drag him, mostly because she could hardly even dream of moving him if he refused, but if she wished to get him somewhere, he would just let her have it. 
‘I’ve to give it to them... the Capital is full of classist snob jerks, but the places are fucking nice,’ he thought, recalling how the downtown closer to the Scouts’ facility at  
Wall Rose always smelled like horse dung, the little poor town always looked a bit grey, and there wasn’t much to do there. In contrast, the huge park with well-kept green grass, flowers, kids with expensive uniforms, statues, and decorated benches like the one they were sitting on marked a difference, especially since that place received the early spring sun directly. 
‘There go my taxes.’ 
“MH-” she hummed, passing down a bite from her meal, “You want to taste mine?” 
Pushing her option in his direction for him to take a bite, Levi checked their surroundings and felt the shame of perhaps someone seeing him doing that, but he soon began to suspect that keeping a relationship would require him to start doing a lot of embarrassing stuff. He took one bite and hummed in agreement. 
Swallowing, he said with his usual monotone voice, “Wanna taste mine?” 
As she bent forward to take a bite, Levi forced himself to look away as perhaps there were too many kids around to even think it. 
‘Why when she offers it, it’s cute, and when I do it, I sound like a fucking pervert?’ 
“Mhhm, very good, I like yours. It’s more creamy!” 
‘...stop it, please.’ 
As they ate, he asked, “Do you like kids?” 
She turned around, confused, almost shocked. “Fuck—no. I didn’t mean it like that,” Levi quickly realized how odd that sounded. “I mean, the Midwife path is hard, so you must like kids a lot.” 
‘I mean if you want to reply to the other question, it’s also valid... I like kids very fucking much, let me know when you’re willing to start practicing,’ he thought. 
“Ah!” she exclaimed, understanding he referred to their previous conversation about her prospects of work tonight. “I became an orphan very young; both of my parents were very old when they decided to have me, so they passed away before I finished my studies. And midwifery is a very necessary but judged profession. Most of my coworkers can’t do it because their husbands or fathers think it’s inappropriate for a girl to be around strangers’ houses in the middle of the night.” 
“So... since I’ve nobody to tell me what I can or can’t do, I decided I should do it,” she replied to him. “This is a good time to tell you, I guess, that I’m not dropping my career.” 
Levi shook his head. “I don’t mind it.” 
“That’s why I went to Erwin’s office the other time,” she commented, making Levi frown, recalling the scene. “He was helping me write a project to present to the higher ranks.” 
Her enthusiasm dropped slightly. “But... they didn’t accept it. I felt so bad.” 
“Ah, that was why you were all weeping when we returned from the expedition?” he dropped the detail, but mostly because the idea was still lingering in his head. 
One hand covered her mouth, and then she blushed. “Ah! You saw that?! So embarrassing,” she said, giving a subtle little hit on his arm playfully. “Why didn’t those morons accept it?” 
She shrugged with a soft sigh. “They said something about the government resources not being enough for that proposal.” 
“Tch, they have money for their stupid events but not for this? What did you propose?” 
“Ugh... mh.hmp,” she seemed reluctant to reply and hummed incoherently. “I... don’t want to offend you.” 
Levi frowned deeply but raised a single eyebrow as a silent question. 
“It was about doing campaigns of pre-natal check-ups on the underground pregnant women. Sometimes they have difficult pregnancies, and the lucky ones are dragged up here if they have some connections when the situation is already unsalvageable. The pre-natal non-permanent posts are all around the walls except there... but, well, I told you their resolution,” she scratched the side of her neck nervously as she explained.  
“Probably because we will have to bring security to go, and MPs do not want to participate.” 
“Why would that offend me?” Levi spat out the question as her nervousness appeared ridiculous. 
“Oh well... I thought that perhaps it’s a sensitive topic for you, and I didn’t want to ruin the mood.” 
“I’m not that soft,” Levi replied quietly, but he felt completely different. He knew she was kind-hearted, but it warmed him that, despite the idea not reaching far, at least there were people trying to change something. “You should keep trying until those assholes listen to you.” 
She hummed positively. “You could try to change their minds,” she suggested between chuckles. 
Levi scoffed. “Talk to Erwin; he’s the one who doesn’t allow me to beat their asses.” 
‘Everything is going so well... it’s suspicious.’ 
“Oh! Careful!” she said, catching his attention before she ran her finger through his chin and then sucked it clean. “You’re going to dirty your shirt’s neck.” 
‘... just let me fuck you already, I’m on my knees.’ 
“I was thinking...” she started, turning around to look at him, doll eyes and a cheeky smile. “Maybe we could hang out this upcoming weekend. The celebrations for the king’s coronation will be ongoing all night all around the walls. I thought that maybe we could stroll around too.” 
Levi was already sweating cold; she was taking the initiative, inviting him out... there was only one issue. 
“Wouldn’t it be nice?” 
“Ehm—” 
‘Think of an excuse, you asshole.’ 
“I... I actually have to stay at my place that weekend,” he said, but his last words were quickly followed by a soft pout, puppy eyes, and a subtle “Ow,” from her. Levi wasn’t usually a person to give excuses or unnecessarily explain himself. 
‘Oh shit, it’s not that I don’t want to—it’s just that—’ 
“I had this stupid invitation to the higher-ranks party whatsoever and—” 
‘And I’m kinda escaping my responsibility of attending that shitty party that’s why—oh... oh no,’ he thought. 
Her eyes began to shine, and the smile returned to her features. “Oh my god, you’re going to the official party?” 
‘No... no I wasn’t going—that’s the whole point,’ he thought. 
“I always wanted to go to one of those,” she said with a dreamy stare, her voice subtle and soft, almost begging but not quite. 
‘No, for fuck’s sake, don’t look at me like that.’ 
— 
“These are the preparations for the upcoming week, and I’ve already reviewed your paperwork, and they seem alright,” Erwin reorganized the piles of paper in front of him quickly for the other soldier. 
Slender fingers picked it up, returning to the door’s direction, yet the pace was rather odd, and the fingers tapped the new papers with uneasiness. Erwin didn’t pay it much mind as he returned to filling out the multiple letters he needed to get ready so they would be sent first thing the upcoming morning. Spreading dust over the black ink so it would dry quicker, his movements were controlled yet rushed. 
“So... I was wondering... do you still have that invitation?” 
Those words made the blond freeze up mid-movement. He slowly looked up at Levi, who was standing in the middle of his office. Each second that passed, announced by the clock, changed the Commander’s expression from confused to angry as his thick eyebrows drew together. 
Straightening up but not saying a word, his fingers intertwined. “Tell me, Levi... how many years have you worked with the scouts?” 
“Tch,” Levi switched his weight from one leg to the other, arms crossing on top of his chest. Levi rolled his eyes, annoyed, “What does that even matter? Five.” 
“Ah, yes, I see,” Erwin muttered as if he didn’t already know the answer. “And how many balls, parties, and official events have you been invited to?” 
The Captain had a feeling where this was going and only frowned deeply. “Many... all of them.” 
“Yes, that’s correct,” the blond confirmed slowly as if the information needed to sink in. “You see, I’m asking because it seems like I must be losing my memory... because I can’t recall a single damn time you went to any of those events without me having to coerce you into it.” 
“When I don’t go to those shitty events, it’s about me not supporting the scouts. When I decide to fucking go, it’s also an issue?” 
“No, no, no, no,” Erwin clicked his tongue repeatedly, “You didn’t decide to go... she wants to go, isn’t it?” 
Silence. Reigning silence. 
“Are you making me a jealousy scene?” Levi raised an eyebrow, confused. 
“No, I just can’t believe that as your boss and friend, I’ve begged you all this time to go to those events, and you’re going because a girl—my friend—asked you to. You’re so henpecked it should give you secondhand embarrassment.” 
“Fine! Yes, yes, I’m doing it for her. Happy?” Levi replied, offended. “In a week and a half, we’re leaving for an expedition, and I’ve not even seen a shitty ankle! Fucking excuse me for trying to get laid before I risk my life out there with one of your suicidal plans! Maybe I should get out of here and ask Mike what type of stupid bullshit you did to get Marie’s attention.” 
The battle of stares was over when, reluctantly, Erwin pulled out the invitation from his drawer and handed it over, “Here, thank you for reconsidering it.” 
“You’re welcome... I’m in favor of the plans for the upcoming expedition, by the way,” Levi walked back to the desk to pick up the letter and replied as he took the piece of paper with him. 
“Glad to hear.” 
And the two of them carried on with their responsibilities as if neither of them had ever mentioned anything. 
Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!
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bunnylovesani · 10 months
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A Birthday Affair
Summary: It's your birthday and your best friend is making you a cake! Too bad she's left you home alone with her boyfriend, Anakin. She should've known you two had a thing for each other, right?
Content warnings: cheating, p in v sex, creampie, daddy kink
WC: 2.6k
“Alright guys, there’s only one shop that sells the buttercream we need and it’s way at the other end of town.” Padme shouts tiredly, grabbing her coat by the door. “Could’ve sworn I’d already picked some up…but anything for the birthday girl. I might be a while so make sure you keep an eye on the cake in the oven!”
“We’re not that incompetent, Padme.” Anakin rolls his eyes.
“Of course, we got it!” You answer as she leaves and turn to face Anakin. “You should really be nicer to her.”
“I’m plenty nice.” He responds. “And you’re the birthday girl, it’s you I need to be nice to.”
“But she’s your girlfriend. You’re obligated to be nice to her all year round.” You put the empty batter bowl into the sink as Anakin stares at you across the kitchen, leaning against the countertops. 
“I’m about as nice to her as she is to me.” He murmurs and you look back in confusion. Were they having issues you didn’t know about? 
“That couldn’t be further from the truth, Padme is the perfect girlfriend and you-“ You paused, looking at him up and down with a light scowl. “-well you’re you.”
“Ah, so you think I’m not good enough for her? How cliche.” He gives you a look of displeasure. “And what is it that makes me so unworthy of her company?”
“You’re not bad per se, you’re just…” You sigh, struggling to put your thoughts into words. “Look at it this way- Padme is one of those rare people. She manages to balance being successful and beautiful with somehow being humble and kind- I know for a fact she wakes up every morning to make you breakfast- and she does things like drive all over the city looking for a specific frosting for her best friend. That’s just the kind of person she is.” You ramble on, walking around the kitchen as Anakin stares at you in fascination.
“And then there’s you, who’s forgotten every anniversary and has been fired from every job because of his inability to control his temper. You see what I’m getting at?” 
Anakin furrows his thick brows as he processes what you’re saying and you think he might get mad at you for a second but to your relief, he cracks a bright smile.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m just as much of a mess as you are. Just as unworthy.“ You laugh and a puzzling smirk crosses his face. 
“So you’re saying I should be with someone better suited for me?” 
“Yes, exactly.” 
“Someone like…you?” He raises an eyebrow. 
You chuckle nervously and take a step back, suddenly aware of how close he’d gotten. 
“Obviously not. I-I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.” Stuttering, you try to move away from him but he doesn’t budge, tall figure towering over you. That stupid smirk he has plastered over his face increases your heart rate tenfold. 
“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Have I got you flustered?” He sneers.
“Stop playing around.” You push him away by his chest and escape to the sofa, slumping down it with a huff.
“Padme told me about the little crush you had on me.” He stands behind you and you refuse to face him, consumed with embarrassment. 
“Crush is too strong of a word for what that was.” You feel your cheeks burning up at the memory; when you first met Anakin at that bar last Christmas, you’ll admit you initially wanted him all to yourself. But what were you supposed to do when Padme got to him first? You can’t believe she told him. 
“So you don’t find me attractive anymore?” He asks in that provocative tone of his. 
“The outer shell is fine but the inside could do with a little work.” You feign confidence, avoiding the question. To be truthful, you found him incredibly attractive. So much so that you actively avoided him because you felt yourself folding under pressure anytime he was near. 
“Can I let you in on a little secret?” He asked quietly, taking a seat on the footstool across the sofa. 
“No, but I sense you’re going to anyway.” You brace yourself.
“That night I saw you and Padme playing pool at the bar.” He begins. “I wanted to approach you, not her.”
Your breath hitches in your throat.
“But she came up to me first and when I asked her who her friend was, she told me you weren’t interested…in men.” Your mouth widens as his words linger in the air.
“I-I don’t know what to say.” You stutter, feeling a small sense of betrayal run through you. “I don’t know why she’d do that.” 
“Because she knew she wouldn’t stand a chance otherwise.” He gets up to sit next to you and you tense up at his knee lightly brushing past yours.
“I thought you were a lesbian for half the time I’ve known you- until you started dating that loser a few months ago and Padme had to come clean. She thought I’d find it funny.” He curls his lip in disgust.
“And did you?”
“No.” He responds, steely eyes staring right through you. “I’m still mad about it.”
“Anakin…” You cautiously murmur, sensing the direction this could so easily take.
“I’m just saying, remember that next time you want to rant about how great she is. If it wasn’t for her deceit, it could’ve been us together.” He rests his hand on your leg but you swiftly brush it off.
“But it’s not. And it never will be. You’ll always either be her boyfriend or her ex. Either way, you’re off limits.” You try to assert some boundaries before your self-control completely slips away from you.
“And if it weren’t for these limits?” He reaches his hand up, tucking your hair behind your ear. 
“Oh God, the cake! Must go and check on the cake.” You get up, trying to escape his grasp but he pushes you back down. 
“I said what if it weren’t for those limits?” He repeats sternly and you can’t help but fixate on his rosy pink lips. You’d always wondered how they’d feel pressed up against yours.
“In another galaxy where you’d never met her-“ You sigh, walls crumbling down. “then I’d be yours.”
“Is that what you want?” His husky voice mutters, barely above a whisper.
“It doesn’t matter because this isn’t another galaxy. This is reality.” You shuffle back a little in an attempt to impose some distance between you. 
“Fuck reality. I want you.” He pulls you in and you’re hit with a wave of warmth radiating off his firm body. 
“Anakin, no. Padme is my best friend! I’m not a homewrecker.” You cry out, unsure whether you’re trying to convince him or yourself. 
“You can’t wreck something that’s already fallen apart. I don’t care about her— I don’t care about any of it anymore. For God’s sake, I even hid the damn buttercream because I wanted her to leave us alone for a while.” Your mouth gapes open at his revelation.
“I knew it!” You point your finger at him but he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you onto him, faces barely an inch apart. 
“I need you. In every way possible.” His voice is so breathy it makes you squeeze your thighs together. 
“Ugh, Ani I-“
“Do you want me as much as I want you? Please, put me out of my misery.” He whines and you bite your lip over the beautiful desperation in his words. 
“Of course I want you, I’ve always wanted you.” The words barely leave your mouth before he grabs your face with both hands and kisses you sloppily, grip on your jaw a little too strong. He has you gasping for air, stubbornly holding onto you like it was the last kiss he’d ever have. 
“Don’t you worry about her, I’ll take care of everything.” He rubs your cheek with his thumb comfortingly and you feel all your worries melt away; he was here, he would fix it all. 
“I’ve thought about this for so long.” You cry, pawing at him. The sense of elation you felt at finally being able to touch him, inhale him, taste him- after an eternity of forcing every feeling down. You did it all out of respect for Padme, out of respect for Ani who chose her- but now that you’d learned the truth, restraint flew out the window. He should’ve been yours- he is yours.
“Lie down for me sweetheart, I wanna see my pretty girl.” He pushes you down onto the sofa and inches your skirt down, admiring your pretty pink panties. “You wear these just for me?” You nod frantically- it’s true, you wore everything for him. Your best underwear, your prettiest lipstick, your shortest little skirts, it was all for him. He pushes your top up slowly, messy kisses being planted all over your tummy until he reaches your perky tits. 
“Is there a reason you’re not wearing a bra, young lady?” He scolds you playfully. 
“Mhm, it’s fun watching you fight the urge to stare at the way they bounce and jiggle.”
“You noticed that, huh?” You giggle at his honesty as he rips your top off, laughter instantly replaced with breathy moans as he squeezes your boobs harshly, taking turns sucking on the nipples. 
“Best pair of tits I’ve seen in my life.” He mutters into your chest as he continues to kiss and lick all over, making you writhe underneath him. 
“Ani, please.” You buck your hips up towards him, desperately needing more. “Hurry, we don’t know when she’ll be home.” 
“Then it’s a good thing the door bolts shut from the inside.” He grins, hands trailing down between your thighs. 
“Ani, no! We can’t lock her out, what would she think?”
“I don’t care, all I know is if I don’t get enough of this sweet pussy, I’m gonna lose my mind.” He groans as he hooks his arms under your legs and pulls you down, pulling your panties to the side. You bashfully cover your face with your hands as he rubs your clit with his thumb and when you peek through your fingers, you see him biting his lip and curving his eyebrows into a pitiful swoop. Just as you think it can’t get better, he lowers his boxers and frees his cock, heavy length slapping against his stomach. Not wanting to inflate his already engorged ego, you try not to look shocked- but he sees right through you. 
“You tryin’ to make me feel bad, sweetie? No problem, I’ll have you squealing in a minute anyway.” He confidently asserts and you feel him rubbing his tip along your soaking folds; the anticipation alone is enough to make you throw your head back.
With one sudden thrust, he pushes himself into your tight pussy and you sink your teeth into the pillow beside you to conceal some of the noise. Reaching forward and grabbing it from you, he tosses it aside and grabs you by the jaw. 
“I want to hear every little sound you make. Raw and unmuted.” He growls. 
“B-but someone might hear-“
“I don’t give a fuck.” He asserts aggressively. “Let them hear. They might as well start getting used to it now.” You moan at his depraved words, drool forming around your lips. 
“If you want something in your mouth that bad, here.” He offers you his fingers- which you accept gratefully, sucking and biting on them to your heart’s content. Just as you’ve adjusted, he slides the rest of his cock in- filling you so deeply you question how it’s even possible. The mewling that proceeds boosts Anakin’s ego more than is healthy; you pant and whine so fervently that you look like you’re on the verge of passing out. Your pupils are dilated, your hair messed up, your thighs dampened with arousal and sweat. 
“Ani, mm fuck- fill me up, please!” You dig your fingernails into his back as he lowers himself to kiss your wet lips, silencing your sobs and pleading if only for a moment. 
“You want my cum, sweetheart? You wanna be daddy’s cum slut, hm? Let me hear you say it.” His strokes get deeper and sloppier as he hurtles his way to his release. 
“Yes daddy, yes! I wanna be your cum slut so bad, it’s the only thing I want.” You ramble, words barely audible over the loud sounds of smacking and squelching. 
“I could never say no to you.” He whispers, head tucked into the crook of your neck planting open-mouth kisses. 
“I need it, need it noww.” You whine, tits bouncing into circles as he roughly pounds into you, strong hand maintaining a firm grip on your hip as he rams himself into you one last time: cum spilling from his tender cock and filling you up to the brim. Pulling out, the sensation of his cum dribbling out of you doubled with his thumb circling your clit sends you over the edge, orgasm washing over you like a tsunami. He rests his head on your chest as you both catch your breath, running your fingers through his hair. 
“I’m gonna leave her.” He softly speaks. “I’m leaving and I’m telling her about us.” 
Your heart seizes in both panic and excitement. There’s an us?
The familiar thud of footsteps in the hallway has you both scrambling to get dressed- you pull your top down and your skirt back on but can’t find your frilly panties anywhere. Anakin just about finishes zipping up his jeans when Padme walks in to the sight of her very flustered-looking best friend and boyfriend, sitting oddly far apart in unnatural positions on the couch. 
“Hey guys, I had to check several different stores but I finally found the right buttercream, what have you- wait, do I smell something burning?” 
Fuck, you forgot the cake.
Running over to the oven, she scrambles to pull out the smoking tray. Despair takes over her face when she sees the round crust, black as cinder. 
“How did you forget?! What were you doing?” She yells, throwing the ashes straight into the bin and frowning at you. 
“Nothing, Padme. We just got carried away chatting is all. ‘m really sorry.” You walk over to join her in the kitchen but start to feel Ani’s seed leaking out of your stretched-out hole and dribbling down your thighs. Noticing the glistening sticky wetness, Anakin rushes over in front of you to distract Padme. 
“It was my fault, I said I’d keep track of time and I didn’t.” He explains, subtly tossing a kitchen towel your way. 
“Classic Anakin, honestly a monkey would have better time management.” She hisses, barging past him and opening windows to let the smoke out. “No wonder you can’t keep a job.” He takes a shaky breath and you can see how hard he’s trying to restrain himself. 
“Not now.” You think, giving him a knowing glare and he nods reluctantly. Padme stomps over to the bathroom and you quickly wipe the cummy mess off your thighs, giggling a little at the excitement of sneaking around. Anakin rushes over and gives you a feverish kiss, whispering in your ear “She goes to bed early, you know.”
Maybe you wouldn’t tell her just yet. 
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@crazy4hotmen @erinkeifer @mortalheartache @arzua10
Part 2 here
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kykyonthemoon · 19 days
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Where The Osmanthus Whispers
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In another universe where you and Zayne grew up together without ever being apart, you have the chance to celebrate his birthday with him.
Happy birthday to our dear Zayne!
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── .✦ Zayne x F.Reader (MC)
── .✦ Tags: AU, fluff, sweet, trope: childhood friends to lovers, really soft fluff, i was literally melting while writing this piece, birthday fic
── .✦ Word count: 2k2
── .✦ Ky Ky's notes: This fic was inspired by Zayne's birthday card "Eternal Attachment", especially the part where he and MC imagined what would happen if they grew up together.
For all the Zayne's girlies out there, I wish you have a blast on his birthday and all the days to come.
── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - closed for the time being.
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Where The Osmanthus Whispers
"Thank you for taking care of our boy, as well as celebrating his birthday with him on our behalf."
You responded to the two individuals on the laptop screen, saying: 
"It's nothing to worry about at all."
"Every year, we are fortunate to have you there. Otherwise, we can't bring ourselves to relax. Even though Zayne is a grown-up, taking care of his health and spending time dating are still things that concern the two of us the most."
When you were unsure of how you should respond, Zayne's mother piped up: 
"Oh my! Why did you mention that? Look how she's blushing! Surely they're really happy together, right, dear?" 
Auntie immediately turned around and asked, startling you. You attempted to clarify: 
"Ah, the truth is we aren't..."
"I know you'll take excellent care of Zayne. But hey, if he does anything to upset you, make sure to call and let me know! I will always stand by your side!”
"Auntie, we are not—"
"That is all!" We have to go now. We entrust Zayne's birthday celebration to you again this year!"
"—dating…"
Beep. Beep. Beep.
You grumbled and glanced at the screen where the call had just ended. Zayne's parents traveled away from home for business, but every year they sent him presents from the places they visited. This year, as previous ones, the present package was delivered to your address. Surely Zayne's parents knew he was too busy at the hospital all day and night to return home, so they sent it to you instead.
Every year, it was just you and Zayne celebrating his birthday together. When you were children and his family was still around, you went to his house to celebrate. Now that he had grown up, Zayne no longer wanted to throw large parties. Sometimes he even forgot his own birthday. If it were not for the wishes and presents from his parents, or the cake you brought to his place, he would probably let the anniversary slip away into oblivion.
Come to think of it, Zayne's present was sent to you, his birthday party was organized by you, his parents somehow always assumed you two were dating... If only it were like that!
You reclined back on the sofa and turned on your phone. The first name that appeared on its contact list was invariably Zayne. You tapped the call button.
After a ring, Dr. Zayne's face emerged. He was not in the office, and the scene behind him made it clear he was in the hospital cafeteria.
“I'm here.”
You smiled as a greeting. “Is Doctor Zayne on his lunch break?”
“Several colleagues invited me to lunch. What about you? Not skipping lunch, are you?”
“Nope.” You replied. “Your parents have just called. Your present has also arrived at my door."
The corner of Zayne's mouth, which was always straight, curled up a bit before swiftly returning to its natural shape. But you managed to capture that moment. 
“I will fetch it after work.”
“Hello, Doctor Zayne! Can I ask you something about this morning's meeting?” A female voice sounded very close. That was not Yvonne's. Zayne nodded back to the person whose face you could not see, then he said to you:
“Is there anything else you want to share with me?”
"No." You answered a bit bluntly. Something ugly and unpleasant began to awaken in your mind. 
“I'll see you later then.” 
Zayne spoke. Then the screen switched off. You laid down on the sofa and glanced up at the ceiling, mind buzzing with the conversation at Akso Hospital a few days before.
Long story short, you were telling Nurse Yvonne about your plans for a celebration on Zayne's birthday. Greyson overheard it and volunteered to help. During the discussion, he mentioned:
“Recently there have been a lot of female interns coming to the hospital. They all appear to be big fans of Doctor Zayne. Aren’t you jealous?"
"Erm…" You were confused for a second. 
Greyson shook his head, as if he had no choice but to deal with the situation. "You're too subjective. Although Dr. Zayne is incredibly devoted and trustworthy, a little jealousy like this may spice things up and bring the two of you even closer to each other."
“I… Wait, what are you talking about?…”
After then, you were forced to spend half an hour listening to Greyson as the "guru" of your relationship with Zayne. Apparently, he, like everyone else, believed you and Doctor Zayne were romantically involved. You attempted to find a way to clarify it, but Greyson did not give you a chance. So you wondered how a person who claimed to know so much about love like himself could still be single.
In your room, you rolled back and forth on the sofa. At last, you decided to stop being concerned about it and focus on arranging Zayne's birthday party, which was just around the corner.
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Everything went according to plan. Even Zayne, who was undoubtedly aware of the surprise party planned for him, followed your requests in a more obedient way. Thanks to the help of Doctors Riley, Greyson and Yvonne, the birthday party at the villa in the woodland happened especially warm and pleasant. Zayne was also genuinely delighted.
But it was not the only present you had prepared for him. As a child, Zayne's parents once told him, "The blessing given to you by the first stranger you meet on your birthday will supposedly come true". That was why you made the effort to ensure that the first person he saw on his birthday morning every year was you. This year was no different.
Zayne arrived at the destination on time. The modest food truck you rented in the forest was stocked with sweets and pastries. Zayne sampled all of the treats, but his absolute favorite was the frosted sugar cookies that you made by yourself. Following that, he proposed that you two go for a stroll around.
The osmanthus woodland was dyed yellow. The mellow fall sunlight, along with the crisp air, was quite pleasant. The dry leaves rustled under your feet as you ventured alongside Zayne. After a time, you decided to break the stillness:
“Last night, I dreamed of something very strange.”
Zayne slowed down and looked at you, wondering: "Is there any dream of yours that isn't strange?"
You threw him a glance, then laughed:
“It really was! Well, I dreamed of us in another world. There, Zayne moved far away from me when he was a child. We didn't keep in touch anymore. When we grew up, you became Doctor Zayne, and I was your patient.”
Zayne remained silent so you could finish your narrative, but he gazed at you as if he were anxious that your dream would come true and the two of you would be separated for a prolonged amount of time.
"In my dream, I always regretted not being with Zayne on your birthdays... But, if we really lost contact with each other many years ago, do you think we would see each other again?”
"Of course." Zayne responded without thinking too much. "Because of your negligence and lack of knowledge about health care, you would most likely need to visit the hospital on a regular basis. Then we would meet again."
You frowned. "Look who's talking! Last year, you tried to work on your birthday. It wasn't until late at night that you returned home to celebrate with me. If you didn't get a break this year, you'd definitely spend the entire day at the hospital, right?"
Zayne's footsteps came to an absolute halt. You had both just arrived at the lakeshore. Sunlight and osmanthus flowers appeared to pour gold into the lake. Shimmering. He turned to you and replied:
"Since someone took the trouble to organize a big birthday celebration for me, I must participate wholeheartedly. Otherwise, she would be extremely sad."
You smiled.
“I know that Doctor Zayne constantly prioritizes the health of others. But to me, your health is equally important. Come to think of it... The me in that dream didn't get to celebrate birthday with Zayne every year... She had many regrets. If we hadn't grown up together, things would be very different now, right?"
“That's right,” Zayne replied, “The me in your dreams would not have someone to celebrate his birthday with every year. The box containing his presents from someone important would be empty. No one would ask him to help with homework but ended up falling asleep instead. He would not know who to comfort with ice cream. His sleeves would not get wet because someone's hand was holding too tightly when they went to the beach for fireworks together. His shadow beneath the moon would be very lonely on the long road..."
Zayne hesitated. He reached out to pick up the yellow blossom that had just fallen onto your hair. 
“But even so, he would try hard to see his childhood friend again. They would be together again, making up for all the regrets during the time they were apart. They would always have each other in the later years. Just as we are now.”
For a moment there, you were unsure of what to say. Emotions surged in your heart, driving you to cry. You suppressed it, turned to face the lake and said:
“I really admire the me in that dream. Because she was free to express her feelings to Zayne… Because she wasn't…”
"Wasn't?" Zayne inquired out of curiosity.
"Nothing. I'm just wondering, if we weren't friends who grew up together, would things be clearer? For instance,... your parents, colleagues, classmates, patients, and others would not misunderstand the relationship between us..."
"Misunderstand?"
Confusion appeared on Zayne's face. You observed a golden flower descending onto his hair. Standing on tiptoe, you assisted him in taking it down. All of a sudden, Zayne grabbed your wrist. His eyes locked with you.
“Are you saying others are misunderstanding us?”
"Yes." You responded quietly. “They think we're… well… dating.”
“Are we not?”
"Huh?!"
The wind whistled. Flowers and leaves rustled together. Above your head, below your feet. But the sound of your heart beating was louder and clearer than anything. Zayne's hand traveled gently around your wrist, eventually grasping the osmanthus flower you were holding. He separated your fingers so that they would interlace with his.
"In the past, when I was about to leave home to attend a far-away school, there was a girl who gathered all of her courage to tell me this, 'Zayne, don't date anyone! I'll grow up soon! Wait for me!’ I kept my word to her. But it appears she has already forgotten what she told me."
The skin on your face was heated. You made an effort to turn away to hide your shyness, but Zayne frantically ran his hand through your hair, keeping your face toward him. You muttered:
"I was still a kid at that time... You skipped many grades and transferred to Linkon… I was so afraid we wouldn't be able to see each other anymore…”
You had said those words, that you wanted Zayne to wait until you grew up. You did not dare to consider the possibility that he would grow up before you did and eventually date someone else. You would no longer be able to be with him. Those childish words of yours were still kept in his heart until this moment.
“That's why I tried to study hard and looked forward to visiting you every weekend. I waited until you graduated, until you started your career. I counted every day off to be by your side. I don't expect you to recall what you said to me in our childhood. But, given how you are always at my side, taking care of me, and sharing your life with me, I assumed everything was obvious by now. That we belong together.”
“Well…” You tried to reorganize the words in your tangled emotions. Zayne and you had always been together like this. You had long been more than just friends. But you were always terrified of crossing that boundary just to discover he would not have the same feelings for you. The bridge of your nose burned slightly as you pressed your face against Zayne's massive palm, which had always protected you.
"I regret not expressing my feelings properly to you sooner." Zayne spoke gently. He took a step forward and hugged you. “Honestly, I am not good with words. I believed that simply being close to you was enough to convey my feelings. But it concerned you even more, which was not my intention."
You smiled softly, arms wrapping around Zayne's back.
"I wasn't certain I was that special in Zayne's heart. So I kept hesitating, doubting you, doubting myself... Now I understand. I know that I am able to freely express my feelings to you, just like the girl in my dream. Thank you, Zayne.”
Zayne's breath merged with yours, carrying the aroma of osmanthus and pastries. He whispered:
“Then I should learn to express my emotions even more. Starting now.”
Zayne's golden gaze focused on the corner of your lips. His fingers caressed your face in such a delicate manner. You smiled, eyelids half-closed. He leaned down to offer you the most tender kiss of all. Osmanthus blossoms fluttered in the breeze, delivering to you and Zayne the blessings of autumn.
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puckinghischier · 3 months
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The 7th Year
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Nico Hischier x fem!reader
summary: reader wants to celebrate Nico’s 7 year anniversary of being drafted to the Devils
notes: i really wanted to post this on his actual draft anniversary but i’m a slacker and didn’t finish it in time, so here it is now. it still counts cause it’s still draft week, right? anyways, i hope you enjoy and happy reading! 🫶🏼
[4.4k]
“Jack, it’s all wrong!” you cry out, looking at the orange cake sitting in front of you.
“Listen, we can fix it. I can run down to the nearest grocery store and have them make me a new one really quick,” Jack tries to reason with you, attempting to avoid the incoming meltdown.
Today was Nico’s seven-year anniversary of being drafted to the Devils. You know it’s an in-between milestone, most people celebrating every five years, but you didn’t care. You weren’t with him two years ago, having only been dating the hockey captain for a little over a year, so you were determined to make a big deal out of this milestone instead.
Your apartment was decked out in every tacky, red or devil related decoration imaginable, from cardboard cut-outs of Nico littered throughout the large living space to a custom ‘pin the horns on the nico’ party game you ordered for the occasion.
“Jack, I special ordered this cake four months ago, because the bakery he likes had a waiting list almost six months long for their cake decorator. I literally told them I’d pay extra if they could have it done by today,” you shut the lid of the cake box, not wanting to look at the orange monstrosity any longer.
You had sent them several reference pictures of what you wanted done, confirming with them last week that they had the correct pictures and color scheme.
“Well, at least they got the logo right?” Jack tries again, watching you run your hands through your recently curled hair.
People were set to start showing up any minute now, and you were panicking about being ready in time for Nico’s return home in a little over an hour. You barely had time to shower and make yourself presentable after spending all day transforming your apartment into a Nico museum.
All of his trophies and medals from childhood up until now are displayed on various surfaces around your shared apartment, action shot posters are taped on the living room walls, taking the place of your decorative pictures, and several of his old jerseys are on display in shadow boxes propped up in the high-top chairs that usually sit around the small table on your balcony, but are currently placed in various spots around the large room.
“Yeah, sure. The logo says Devils, but the colors say Flyers,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose, trying to stop yourself from crying off your fresh make-up.
Jack had been a trooper today. Luke too. The two of them had shown up to your apartment not even twenty minutes after Nico left with Jesper and Timo this morning for their early tee time. They helped you decorate and arrange your entire apartment, ran all over Hoboken with you grabbing last minute stuff for the evening, and Luke is out right now picking up the catering order that was supposed to be delivered but somehow got marked for pick up.
Your phone starts ringing in the middle of your deep breathing moment, trying to calm your nerves.
“Luke, please tell me you have the food and are on your way home,” you answer the phone, praying Luke is calling to check in and not to give you bad news.
“Yeah, I got it. On my way now. Just calling to check and see if you need anything else while I’m out,” he tells you, the sound of his car door shutting heard in the background.
You breathe out a sigh of relief. At least the food is taken care of, you think to yourself. “No, I think we’re good. I double checked everything before I got in the shower. And Jack has been setting stuff up while I was getting ready. Just please get here in one piece with the food before I have a small stroke,” you attempt a joke, but your tone sounds more strained than anything.
“Aye Aye, Mrs. Captain,” you hear through the phone, picturing the small salute Luke is likely doing right now.
You chuckle out a goodbye and hang up your phone.
“So, am I good to go get changed now, or do you need me to talk you off a ledge right now?” Jack asks you, treading lightly.
You send him an unamused glare. “No, I think I’ve done everything I can do until Luke gets here with the food. Go, change. Shower if you need to,” you wave him off, grabbing the cake on the counter in front of you and walking to place it in the large fridge.
“Alright, but if I hear the balcony door open I won’t hesitate to run out here butt naked to make sure you’re not trying to make an escape,” he sings out as he walks out of your kitchen, turning down the hallway towards your guest bathroom.
You flip him off even though he can’t see you, a smile on your face nonetheless.
Thirty minutes later, Jack is showered and dressed and a few of Nico’s teammates have shown up, decked out in the t-shirts you had ordered and distributed to everyone.
Each of Nico’s teammates are wearing a shirt with his picture from his draft on it. No matter who you were looking at, Nico’s smiling baby face, devils hat on his head and devils jersey pulled over his formal attire, with one finger pointed in the air to signify his being picked first overall, was looking back at you.
You thought it would be funny to have Nico walk into a surprise celebration with his face staring back at him from nearly everyone in attendance, and when you pitched the idea to his teammates they were all for it.
You had ordered your own shirt with Nico’s face on it, too. Although, yours was one of the shirts in the WWE style, overlapping, various pics of Nico making up the design.
As the time got closer to Nico coming home, more and more of his teammates and their significant others showed up, ready to surprise their captain.
Ten minutes before Nico was due arrive, you get a call from Jesper.
“Hey, you guys almost here?” you answer, walking away from the noise of your living room.
“Yeah, leaving the bar now,” he tells you, pausing to bid someone in the background goodbye and ringing out ‘thank you’ a few times as he walks out of the bar.
Jesper and Timo were tasked with keeping Nico busy and away from home today. It started with their game of golf, but quickly turned into an additional eighteen holes and trying to kill time at the clubhouse bar when their games went by far quicker than they anticipated.
Around lunchtime, Timo called you and told you Nico kept saying he was going to bow out early to come home and spend some time with you, but you begged them to find a way to keep him occupied. You ended up having to send him a message, telling him you were out with a friend for a quick lunch before a fake nail appointment that turned into a real one once he asked to see what design you had chosen this time. Which is why you were late getting ready, having to leave Jack to decorate the apartment during your impromptu salon trip.
Most of the time you love that Nico is so invested in your relationship. He always wants to spend time with you, going with you to hair and nail appointments, following you around like a puppy when you go shopping, and simply sticking around the house on days when he has nothing planned just to catch up on your latest reality show obsession he always gets hooked into.
Today, though, you wish he was a little more apt to spending time with his friends. The amount of ‘I miss you’ and ‘can’t wait to come home and binge love island!’ texts you got today made you love him even more – if that’s even possible – but also made your anxiety sky rocket each time, because you know if he wanted to, he would simply leave in the middle of his plans with Timo and Jesper, no amount of convincing able to keep him there.
“Alright, don’t forget your shirts,” you start to remind him. You turn your body to look behind you, hearing a chorus of “Lukey!” and “Moose!” ring out, signaling Luke was finally back with the food. “Hey, I gotta go Jesp, Luke just got back with the food. Be safe!” you rush out before hanging up, making your way back into the small crowd.
You weave through bodies until you reach your kitchen, watching Luke attempt to sit down the large disposable trays.
“Luke, please don’t drop those,” you run over to him, helping him slide the heavy food onto your kitchen island.
You unstack the pans, making sure each one is unharmed and an appropriate distance from the edge of the counter.
“C’mon, Y/N, have a little more faith in me than that. I can carry a few trays of food,” he tells you, dramatically flexing his arms at you.  
You roll your eyes at the curly-headed giant. Checking the time on your phone, you figure you have enough time to try and set up the food a little bit before Nico gets here. Opening the various pans, you freeze.
“Luke…what is this?” you ask him, a cold feeling washing over you.
Luke furrows his brows at you, peeking over your shoulder from his spot behind you. “The food you asked me to get? Is this a trick question?”
You dropped the flimsy lid, condensation from the hot dish flying everywhere.
When you were thinking about what food you wanted to have for the party, you knew it would be in the off-season, the Devils losing their playoff spot pretty early this season. So, you figured it would be a good time to order a few pans of his favorite dishes from his favorite Italian restaurant.
You ordered a pan of their lasagna, chicken parm, and a large pan of a steak and pasta dish specific to the restaurant. You had called them to confirm this morning, which is how you found out it was marked as pick up instead of delivery, causing Luke to have to drive forty-five minutes one way in order to grab the food.
What you were unaware of, however, is the fact that this restaurant, apparently, also caters an array of vegan options.
When you opened the three pans, you were met with a large pan of what looked like roasted cauliflower with tomato sauce, eggplant boats covered in pesto, and what looked like breaded and baked zucchini. 
You had no issue with vegan food, some of it being some of the most delicious food you’ve ever eaten, but this is not at all what you envisioned surprising Nico with.
“I ordered lasagna, chicken parm, and steak pasta. There is no chicken, parm, steak, or layered noodles in front of me right now,” you try to keep your tone even and calm, knowing it’s not Luke’s fault.
“I swear, they handed me the box of food that had your name on it. I even checked the receipt and everything,” Luke defended himself.
You can feel the tears welling up, despite your attempt at taking big, deep breaths to avoid your emotions getting the best of you.
When the first tear falls over, the rest come crashing out before you could even stop them. You bring your face to your hands and start sobbing, upset that you couldn’t have everything be perfect for such an important day for Nico.
“Hey, don’t cry,” Luke coos as he wraps you in a hug, your face still hidden by your hands. “You’re going to ruin your make-up. You don’t want to greet Nico while looking like a little raccoon, do you?” you let out a chuckle at Luke’s words, his attempt at cheering you up working for a quick moment.
You bring your hands away from your face, sniffling and trying to carefully wipe your eyes. Luke keeps you trapped in a hug, giving you a few moments to collect yourself before stepping back, rubbing your arms instead.
“I just wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted Nico to walk in here and see all of his friends here, ready to celebrate him. I wanted to surprise him with his favorite meal and his favorite cake from his favorite bakery, since he doesn’t ever get this stuff during the season. But instead he gets an orange cake and a vegan dinner,” you huff, gesturing to the food in front of you.
“Well, he’ll definitely be surprised,” Luke attempts another joke, this one earning a sarcastic laugh instead of a genuine one. “Listen, we can fix it, okay? We’ll call the place and get a refund then order a few pizzas, alright? It’ll be fine. Everyone likes pizza.”
He bends his knees so he’s eye level with you, trying to gauge your reaction to his suggestion.
You look over to the food on the counter, bringing a sliver of your bottom lip in-between your teeth, mulling the idea over in your head.
“Yeah, we can do that. Everyone does like pizza, don’t they?” you try to convince yourself pizza will be fine, you could just take Nico out to dinner for his Italian food later this week.
“They sure do. And lucky for you, I have the best pizzeria in Hoboken on speed dial. I’ll make them do a rush order for their favorite customer,” Luke winks down at you, stepping away to pull out his phone and make the last-minute order.
You cover the food in front of you back up, picking up each tray and tossing them in the trash can at the end of your island, knowing that a group of hungry hockey players wouldn’t want three trays worth of vegetables to eat for party food.
You stand in the middle of the kitchen, trying to compose yourself and wipe away any mascara residue when Jack comes running through the open doorway, frantic eyes landing on you.
“Y/N, what’s wrong? Why do you look like you’ve been crying? Jesper just texted and said they’re on the elevator on their way up,” he rushes out, walking towards you to make sure you’re alright.
“Catering mishap, Luke’s ordering pizza now. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Go grab him, quick,” you suddenly perk up, nerves bubbling in your stomach.
As you follow Jack out of the kitchen and make your way to the front of the small crowd at the end of your entry way, all you can think about is hoping Nico likes what you’ve done. You hope he doesn’t think the decorations are too tacky, or that the shirts are weird. You hope he’s okay with eating greasy pizza and orange cake. You hope he likes the custom Halifax and Devils split jersey you plan to gift him later to represent where he started and where he is now. Overall, you just hope he understands how proud you are of him.
You see Jack and Luke walk up beside you out of the corner of your eye, matching with the rest of their teammates that are surrounding you. Luke leans down to whisper “Pizza’s ordered, it’ll be here in twenty,” into your ear before standing back to his original height and facing forward, waiting on his captain to walk through the door.
You’re suddenly hit with a thought about how thankful you are for the people surrounding you. For Jack and Luke who dealt with your demanding and crazy self today, talking you off of ledges and running around doing your bidding all day long. You’re thankful for the teammates that showed up today, ready to celebrate the captain they love almost as much as you do. You’re thankful for Timo and Jesper, making sure Nico stays in the dark about the surprise, doing everything in their power to keep him out of your hair until this moment.
You’re so incredibly thankful that the universe has allowed you to not only love someone as kind, loving, and special as Nico, but that he loves you back just as much. You also gained an entire family through Nico, his teammates treating you like one of their own, showing you just as much love and care as they do him. You’ve found some of your best friends through him, Jack, Luke, Timo, and Jesper being four of the best people you’ve ever had in your life.
The sound of the front door opening distracts you from your sentimental thoughts. You see Jesper enter first, his Nico shirt looking a little out of place paired with his golf pants. Nico follows him in, blindfolded. You have to stop a snort from making its way out, not knowing Timo and Jesper were going to resort to blindfolding him. Timo follows a step behind Nico, hands on his shoulders, guiding him and preventing him from bumping into anything.
Timo guides him to a few feet in front of you, stopping him before dropping his hands from his shoulders.
“Alright, Cap, you can take your blindfold off now,” Jesper tells him, him and Timo quickly stepping over to where you stand, joining the rest of their team.
Nico reaches up the untie the blindfold on his head. “I swear to god, if you guys did this just to mess with me and take me to another bar I’m going to kill both of you. I told you I just wanted to go home to Y/N-“ Nico stops mid-sentence when the cloth falls into his hands.
A loud, “Surprise!” rings out around the room, Nico’s eyes darting to each person, then down to their shirts.
You stand there, smiling at his shocked face.
“What-“ he starts, but stops, speechless at the scene in front of him.
You step forward the few feet to him, his gaze finally landing on you.
“Happy draft anniversary, baby,” you tell him, smiling up at him.
He looks down at you, eyebrows furrowing. You can tell he didn’t remember what day it was until this moment, his eyes looking around the room again, understanding settling in on the choice of shirts.
“You did all this? For me?” he asks, a smile taking over his face as he looks down on you.
“Well, duh,” you tell him. “Your seven-year draft anniversary is a big deal, you know?”
He beams down at you, the amount of love in his eyes enough to nearly knock you down.
“I love you, you know that?” he asks, wrapping his arms around you, pulling your body close to his.
“I think you’ve told me once or twice,” you tease.
He rolls his eyes at you, bringing his lips down to meet yours. The kiss is innocent and sweet, considering most of his team is stood behind you, but it was enough to cause a feeling of warmth to wash over you, all the way down to your toes.
When you pull back from the kiss you can’t help but to keep smiling at him. “Alright, go greet your teammates now. I’ll find you later,” you tell him, patting him on the chest as you step back.
Nico gives you a wink before he walks over to his friends and teammates, making his way through hugs and handshakes.
You mostly sit back and observe for most of the night, splitting off from the festivities when the pizza was delivered, placing it in the kitchen and announcing everyone to just serve themselves.
You make your way around your apartment, conversing with Nico’s various coworkers. You cross paths with Nico a few times, each time he tried to whisk you away to your shared bedroom, but you insisted he have a good time with his friends, there’ll be plenty of time for the two of you later. You stick around Jack and Luke some, but finding yourself in a corner talking to Nicole, Jesper’s girlfriend towards the end of the night.
“Y/N, seriously, this is great. I wish I would have thought of something like this for Jesper. Nico hit the jackpot with you,” Nicole compliments.
Your cheeks redden. “He deserves it. I mean, he left everything he’d ever known in Switzerland to come here and pursue this. And look how well he did for himself,” you turn to look over at him standing with Jonas and Erik, Jonas attempting his turn at pinning the devil horns on the large poster of Nico on the wall.
You’ve always been amazed at Nico’s bravery and determination to pursue this dream, knowing how hard it was for you to move just a few states away from your family, much less halfway across the world. He proved every single person that told him he wouldn’t make it wrong, not only getting drafted, but being the first overall pick. And now he earned his captaincy on top of that, proving he’s not only a phenomenal player, but an even better teammate and leader.
“I think he did very well for himself, and not just in reference to hockey, either,” she tells you, leaning over and placing a hand on your leg to emphasize her point.
You look down, not particularly knowing how to respond to her compliments.
“Hey, Y/N, want us to stick around and help clean up,” you hear a voice ask you, turning around to see only Jack, Luke, Jesper and Timo remaining.
Nico walks over to you as Nicole stands and joins Jesper.
“Nah, you guys head out. We’ll call you tomorrow if we need any help,” Nico answers for you, standing behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders, giving them a light squeeze.
“That’s code for ‘get out you goons, I’m trying to be alone with my girl right now,’” Jack says, earning a chuckle from the group.
You and Nico walk everyone to the door, saying your goodbyes before shutting the apartment door and turning around to observe the state of your apartment.
“Don’t even think about trying to clean anything up tonight. You’re not lifting a finger for the rest of the night,” Nico threatens, slipping his arms around your torso from behind, burying his face in your neck.
“C’mon, at least let me clean up the cups your lazy teammates didn’t throw away,” you pat his hands, starting to walk him over to start picking up the red, plastic cups.
“Alright, but after that we’re going to the bedroom and aren’t leaving until this time tomorrow,” Nico points a finger at you as he separates from your body.
The two of you gather all of the stray cups, bringing them into the kitchen to throw them away. You notice the empty pizza boxes, breaking a few of them down while asking Nico to put the leftovers in your fridge so they don’t ruin.
“What’s in the box?” he asks, grabbing the white cake box and dragging it out of the fridge.
“Oh no! I totally forgot about the cake!” you exclaim.
“You bought me a cake?” Nico opens the box.
He looks up at you, amusement in his eyes. “Schatz, why did you get me an orange Devils cake?”
You groan, bringing your hands up to rake them down your face.
“It was supposed to be red, but the bakery fucked it up and I didn’t know until they delivered it,” you explained, walking over to stand next to him as he looks between the cake and you.
“The catering was messed up too,” you continued. “I tried to order your favorite dishes from that Italian place you like, but they sent a bunch of vegan dishes instead, so Luke had to order pizza last minute.”
Nico lets out a laugh at your confession. “So, you threw me a draft anniversary party with an orange cake and vegan food?” he teases, closing the lid to the cake box and turning his body to face you.
You give him a pout. “Don’t make fun of me, I was trying to be nice to you.”
This earns another laugh, Nico placing his hands on either side of your pouting face.
“You could have thrown me a party with water soup as the entrée and ice cubes as appetizers and I would still think it’s the best party I’ve ever been to, simply because you planned it,” he tells you, looking down into your eyes.
“You meant it? You enjoyed yourself tonight?” you ask him earnestly, that small seed of worry making its way back into your brain.
Nico doesn’t answer, he leans down to kiss you for the second time that night. This time, though, he wasn’t as slow and sweet as he was when you had an audience.
His kiss isn’t rushed, but with his tongue slipping its way into your mouth, it quickly turns into a partial make-out session in your kitchen.
He pulls back once the two of you need to come up for air, resting his forehead against yours.
“I had a blast tonight. The shirts were a nice touch, by the way,” he smirks at you.
You let out a giggle, thinking of how funny it was when he registered all of his teammates were wearing his face on their chest.
“Thank you, seriously,” his tone turns serious. “I can’t even begin to explain to you what this means to me. I just wish I could’ve had you by my side from the start.”
You look at him through his long lashes, not being able to think about anything except for how much you love him at this moment.
“Well, you’ll have me until the end of it. Or until you get sick of me, whichever comes first,” you joke, causing Nico to pull his forehead back from yours.
He uses his hands that are still on your face to tilt your head up to look at him. “Not possible. If anyone gets sick of anyone around here it’s going to be you getting sick of me, because I never want to be anywhere but by your side.”
You just stare up at him, shaking your head in a no motion, the intensity of his stare taking any words from the tip of your tongue.
You both just stand there, staring at each other for what feels like hours, but was really just a few moments.
“Enough of us just standing in the kitchen, I think it’s time we take this little party to our bedroom so I can really show you how thankful I am,” he breaks the silence, his eyes going from love to lust before you could even blink.
He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, just throwing you over his shoulder while you squeal, carrying you to your bedroom. As you pass all of the decorations on the hallway walls on your way to the bedroom, you’re already thinking of how you can make year eight’s anniversary even better, especially if Nico is as thankful next year as he proves to be this year, thanking you over and over and over again once you reach your bedroom.
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r0ttenhearts · 1 year
Note
I saw you're taking req, hmm I wanted some angst like neglected reader & diluc or kaveh, the story or plot is up to you 🥹🥹
look at me
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diluc x reader
warnings: mean diluc, one sided relationship, arguments, angst
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another night you found yourself alone in bed, the book you had been reading laid open on the spot that belonged to diluc, or used to. longer nights seemed to be often now, staying up for him. not like he cared for your presence anyway. only giving you a glance when he’d get in bed, facing away from you.
the cold feeling of the sheets on your skin no longer warmed your heart, trying to grasp at the scent of him on his pillow. it was like loving a ghost. if you could even call it a relationship anymore.
dates and anniversaries had been forgotten about for months now, empty promises he’d give you before stopping completely. never giving you anything to hope for. that’s what you believed on your birthday, leaving you alone that night. a thickly frosted cake sitting in front of you, tears in your eyes with his maids somber smiles as you blew out your candles.
you still held hope in your heart, hope that things would go back to how they used to be, to a loving relationship with him. that was until that night. screams and tears being the only thing between you two.
“i’ve told you for the last time, (y/n). i’m busy. can’t you take this up with sucrose or one of your other friends? i don’t have time for this nonsense.” diluc sighed, pressing his thumbs on the bridge of his nose.
“we haven’t done anything together in months, diluc.” you looked at him with hope in your eyes, holding out a flyer for the upcoming windblume festival in mondstat. “we can go to this together! it’ll be like how we used to go to your wine festival’s back in the day, but this time you won’t have to-“
his gloved hand tearing the sheet out of your grasp and ripping it in half silenced your words. you stared at him, wide eyed as he looked to you with the meanest glare he only reserved for kaeya.
“i don’t give a shit to go to some silly festival with you. do you ever wonder why i don’t spend time with you anymore (y/n)? why i’d rather be manning the bar instead of letting my employees do it?” he seethed, getting right in your face as you stood there frozen.
his fiery red hair matched his tone as you felt your love and hope for this relationship slowly wither with every word that came out of his mouth. his piercing eyes not hiding his distaste for you,
“the reason is i simply cannot stand to be here with you. i can’t stand the way you look at me so stupidly. you still believe something is there when i haven’t even looked at you in months.
i don’t love you anymore (y/n). get that through your thick skull. or do you still think i’m kidding? that one day i’ll waltz in here and kiss you like i used to? that i won’t leave you alone here every day with the maids?
nothing will change. i don’t care if you leave me. do what you wish, just stop bothering me.”
he left your shared bedroom with a slam of the door. the glass on your bedside table shaking as silent tears slipped down your cheeks. you were tired. tired of the fighting, tired of him.
the next day you did as he asked, or screamed. with a heavy heart you left his manor, a home you had known for six years. ignoring his lingering stares in the streets of mondstat for the next few months.
every time you’d see him stop and stare at you, you’d shake your head. he didn’t miss you. you couldn’t miss him. nothing was waiting for you back at the winery.
you never knew of the way he’d uncap some of his special wine, sitting at the same table you used to have dinner alone in. gulping down the bitter liquid, he hated every second of it sliding down his throat. but he hated the way he felt without you even more.
the day he told you those words he’d felt nothing but regret. coming home to an empty house solidified that feeling of guilt and pain as he remembered the look on your face as he claimed he no longer felt anything for you. it was a lie. he lied to keep you away, away from his duties to hunt down the fatui. you didn’t know he was the infamous dark night hero, only believing his white lies of being at the bar every night.
oh how cruel could fate be as he watched you move on. you’d refuse to look his way if he stood next to you at a stall, your gaze locked on the merchant. never at him.
eventually your gaze would be locked onto his brother, kaeya. kaeya’s smirk as you held onto his arm made his blood boil. he had taken something else from him. but were you ever his to be taken from?
as he sat on the floor of his cellar, tears in his eyes as he inhaled the smell of grapes and liquids he now found comfort in, he only thought of you.
“hey (y/n).. the windblume festival is coming up soon.. do you want to go together.” he whispered to himself, more hot tears running down his face.
“i didn’t mean what i said that night.. i’ll cut off my own tongue so i never yell at you again.. so please,
promise you won’t go.”
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taglist: @samarill @lelemnh
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jude-duarte-wannabe · 24 days
Note
Good day! I’m looking for Carlos Sainz go take me order if that’s ok? Could I have a extra sweetness with the brownies and possibly please a side of angel food cake? And I’d love some tonic water on the side please 💗
Thank you!
order up!
hi lovely thanks for the request, so as soon as i saw this an idea immediately popped into my head and as requested i made your order extra sweet <3 your requested prompts will be bolded and i once again couldn't stop myself from adding the victoria sponge prompt, with stories like these the idea of the victoria sponge prompt makes me all giggly and warm <3
pairing; carlos sainz x younger girlfriend reader
blurb; you've had a lot of bad relationships in the past, ones you've never fully recovered from so when your older boyfriend wants to try something new in the sex department you can't help but feel nervous but don't worry darling, soft boyfriend carlos is here to help.
warnings; oral fem!receiving, thigh kisses, google translated spanish, fingering, a speck of spitting and soft!dom!carlos [let me know if i missed anything]
dulce chico; sweet boy angelito; little angel
tonic water; age gap [carlos is 30 and reader is 23] brownie; "no fucking touching" angel food cake; "did you just squirt, since when could you do that" victoria sponge; "you wanna hold my hand"
currently playing; water by tyla "make me sweat, make me hotter, make me lose my breath, make me water"
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"i don't know carlos" you mumbled from your position on the sofa beside him, he had asked you if he could try something new and while it's not like you didn't trust him because you did, you trusted him with your life but what he was suggesting you'd tried before and gotten shamed for it by previous partners but they had all been boys, carlos however was a man and one who knew how to take care of you like the goddess you were.
he practically worshiped the very ground you walked on, people all asked why you were with someone older than you and your answer was simply "he treats me right" and when they asked how you met.. well you could remember that moment in your life pretty vividly.
you had ended up meeting in the most meet cute way you could ever imagine, you'd been on a vacation with your family in madrid, your parents had been wanting to go back ever since their honeymoon 24 years ago.
you'd stopped at a farmers market close to your hotel to pick up some flowers for your parents wedding anniversary when you'd run, literally into carlos who'd been wandering the markets with his mother while on a quick visit home, while you had kept apologizing profusely, carlos simply couldn't take his eyes off you in your little pink plaid skirt and lacy white tank, you looked so soft and sweet and innocent, fuck did he love it.
you'd offered to buy him a coffee or even a pastry of some kind to make up for running into him and he'd said yes mainly just to be near you, to get to know you and that's how you found yourself wandering around the market nibbling on pastries while you chatted away with carlos, it seemed innocent enough, at least that's what you thought.
he'd ask to see you again sometime and you'd agreed thinking that he would make a great friend for while you were in madrid.
but when carlos first started to show an interest in you that was more than platonic after only knowing you a few weeks, you ignored him like the plague, he was just another guy capable of destroying you more than you already had been by the multiple exes in your past.
what made it even more nerve wracking was the fact he was older than you and not by much, at least that's what you thought. carlos on the other hand couldn't stay away and didn't get why you were ignoring him.
meeting you changed his life for the better and having to go a day without hearing you giggle or call him merely just say good morning was killing him.
at least it was until your sister who had met him randomly when you were out together and had decided to meet up with carlos, had explained everything to him, the trauma you'd gone through at the hands of your ex boyfriends, he could understand why you were scared of his advances now.
after a little convincing by your sister and little begging from carlos, he finally got you to agree to a date, he had promised to go slow and treat like every women deserved to be treated, the man worshiped the very ground you walked on after all for christ sakes.
you had kept in touch after leaving spain and when you felt ready you traveled back to madrid to spend time with him and you just never left.
and so here you were a year later, happier than you've ever been in any of your previous relationships and sure you'd been intimate with carlos before but what he was asking now made you nervous, he asked to eat you out saying that you looked so sweet just sitting next him reading and that's what lead to the current situation that you were in "what do you mean you don't know" he asked.
his question had you fidgeting but as always carlos was there to comfort you, placing his hand on your thigh "no fucking touching" you snapped before feeling bad and so you mumbled "please" you pushed his hand off your leg "i need to think and i can't do that with hands on me, your very distracting" you explained with a soft laugh, it just made carlos smile but then said smile faded at another thought.
"why don't you want to.. do you not trust me" he seemed worried and your hand immediately went to his arm "no dulce chico, i trust you it's just the last person i let down there... they didn't ask, i asked them and i was told i was gross and that no man ever does it willingly"
oh now carlos was angry, he couldn't believe that one of your old boyfriends had said that to you "no baby, it's not gross.. i want to make you feel good" his hand went back to your thigh, rubbing small circles on the skin there, carlos noticed you wriggle around and squeeze your legs closer together, your slight very quiet whimper had him raising his eyebrows while he smiled "is the idea of this turning you on angelito"
"maybe" you murmured, your hand taking hold of his own, tangling your fingers together to ground yourself as you sat there thinking and after a few minutes, you'd finally decided "alright you know what.. lets... lets try it" you told him and the way carlos pounced on you then made you giggle.
he moved you onto your back while you kept laughing at his eagerness, he placed a sloppy kiss to your lips before laying himself down in between your legs, fingers moving your underwear to the side quickly before pushing your sweet little skirt over your hips and wrapping his arms over your waist, placing sweet little kisses to the skin of your thigh making you squirm even more.
"carlos.. don't tease me" you whimpered making him chuckle against your thigh "patient angelito" he gently kissed at your folds, groaning at the taste of you on his lips before diving straight in, licking at your juices like a man starved.
"gross my fucking ass.. you taste so perfect.. like honey" he mumbled as his tongue slipped inside you slurping up all the juices that slipped from your aching hole.
the new feelings you were experiencing were euphoric and you just couldn't seem to keep your head on straight no matter what you did, you gripped at the couch cushions and even carlos's hair.
so as a last resort you reached for his fingers that rested on your stomach, when he felt your hand brush his own carlos couldn't help smile against your folds as he pulled away for just a second "you wanna hold my hand" you merely nodded, your other hand gripping out the couch cushion above your head.
carlos couldn't get enough of the way you looked right now with flushed cheeks and your chest rising and falling as you panted in excitement.
he tangled his fingers with yours before going back to work, bringing his thumb to your clit to rub little circles as he licked and sucked at your sweet pussy.
carlos continued like this for a while, listening to you moan blissfully above him, if carlos could describe heaven it would be this, this moment right here with his face buried in your cunt licking at you while you made such beautiful noises, your hands holding onto eachothers, a symbol of your connection and love for each other, after a while he pulled away to kitten lick at your clit and he slipped his fingers inside your tight cunt, feeling you clench around his fingers "jesus angelito... so tight"
your hips started to rut against carlos's hand, causing them to push deeper and deeper in and then you squealed as a sparks zipped up your spine "what the fuck was that" you asked as your breathing calmed down"your g spot" carlos chuckled and hit it again as his fingers kept thrusting in and out at a fast pace and so you kept squealing.
it wasn't long before your gripped carlos's hand a little too tight as you tumbled over the edge, your orgasm hitting you like a truck.
as your breathing calmed down, you sat up slightly to look at carlos, hand still clutched in his, carlos just lay frozen between your legs face wet "you alright baby" you asked and he just chuckled "did you just squirt, since when could you do that"
you stared at him surprised, you had done what? "i did what now?"
to say that you were both surprised was an understatement but when carlos scampered up your body, you giggled at his excitement "i wanna make you do it again" he said, voice shaky and you smiled softly at him
"go on then baby.. make me water" you giggled, hands cupping his face, god he was adorable, this was perfect, this moment, this relationship.. you'd never been happier than this and you hoped that it would never ever end mostly because you had never felt safer than you did right now while wrapped up in carlos strong arms.
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stvolanis · 9 months
Text
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BIRTHDAY BOY
(one shot)
PAIRINGS: Elvis Presley x wife! Reader
WARNINGS: tooth rotting fluff! Not proofread, clingy reader, no use of y/n, slight angst (Elvis thinks reader forgot his birthday), surprise party, kissing, pet names, the Memphis mafia been goofballs
NSFW WARNINGS: p in v sex, oral (m receiving), slight ball play ig?, light choking, hair pulling, daddy kink (duhh), cream pie, breeding kink, lingerie
sorry if I missed anything!! And happy birthday to the king of rock n’ roll<3
˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚
The entire day you and Elvis’ Memphis mafia have been planning is birthday party. His dad even started helping out.
It was going to be spectacular. You’d ordered a large 5 layered cake with buttercream frosting and strawberries, and written on top in cursive was ‘long live the king’ with a little 25 under it.
The house was decorated in head to toe with gold and white streamers, balloons, confetti, and any other kind of decor you could imagine fit for the king of rock n’ roll.
Elvis Presley had been gone for a week, taking on an acting gig in Florida, Miami. You missed him dearly, but you knew he was coming home today. Every time he called one of the house phones who would always chat your ear off on how much he wanted to see you. You’d think he had separation anxiety (he does).
The warmth of his voice on the line brought endless smiles to your face, and his amazing voice made giggles erupt from your throat. Everything about him shined, inside and out. He was beautiful, and a very charismatic man.
He had a certain feel about him. In a way where everyone would stop what they were doing just to catch a glimpse of him. He could hold an entire rooms attention and keep it, and sometimes he didn’t even realize it. People looked at him as if he were a god, and hell, maybe he was.
Elvis was a giving man. If you knew him, then you’d know that he shined so bright, he made the people around him shine, too. And to Elvis, you shined the most. He adored you. Every little thing about you was imperfectly perfect to him in just the right ways.
Elvis was a good husband, despite what people in the press have said. He takes care of you more than he takes care of himself, and he does it with a smile on his face and love in his heart that he only holds for you.
Elvis always told you that you were his angel. You were sent by the heavens to watch over him, guide him and love him for all he is after his mother died. You healed him and changed a broken, distraught man into the brightest star.
But you knew it was the other way around.
You found each other in a hopeless state, but together you overcame it and helped each other. Elvis was always kind to you, even if you two had petty little arguments, he’d always make it up to you by showering you in kisses with little ‘I’m sorrys’. How could you not forgive him when he was the sweetest man you’d ever met?
He remembered every anniversary. Every birthday. Every Valentine’s Day. He showered you in gifts, attention, dates, and never shut up about you in the press. You were sure interviews were sick and tired of him ranting on about how ‘good of a wife’ you are like a lovesick puppy, but it filled you with butterflies knowing he held you in such high regards.
Elvis was your person, and you were his. You’d known that since the day you met, and the day he popped the big question on a Thursday night in Hawaii confirmed it. It’s been bliss since you’d known him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
But now, you sat nervously on the couch, biting down on your manicured nails nervously.
You hadn’t answered any of the 4 times Elvis has called you, and you knew he’d be worried by now. It was his birthday, and you felt bad because you didn’t want to upset him—but the surprise will be all worth it.
You wore his favorite outfit. A light blue, low cut dress that ended mid thigh, paired with black marry janes and white socks that sat a few inches below your knees. You also wore a white pearl necklace that acted as a light choker, and to top it all off, a silver chain sat secured gracefully on your neck that read ‘E.P’. A beautiful necklace your lover gifted to you for your 2nd anniversary.
But you wore a secret under your pretty little dress that Elvis would surely adore later tonight.
“Everyone, I just got word that Elvis is down the road, get in your places!” Gunner, a mutual friend of you and Elvis, shouted. You quickly took your place around the corner from the door, so you could be the first person he sees when he walks through the large entrance.
The lights were turned off and the room was silent as you heard booming footsteps come up the familiar stairs of Gracelands’ entrance.
You sucked in a breath of air as the door swung open, and you could already feel his suffocating presence in the house.
“Baby?! Where ya at?!” He yelled out, his voice laced with concern as he began to move towards the stairs, assuming you were in your shared bedroom. You giggled a little, and Elvis’ head snapped to your direction. You’d been caught.
“Surprise! Happy birthday, honey!” You yelled out, along with everyone else. Elvis let out a breath of air he’d been holding in for what felt like all day. No matter how many times he’s left home, weeks on end, you’d never gone not one day without calling him and tellin’ him all about your boring day without him around.
He drug a hand down his face with a groan, followed by a deep chuckle as your body collided with his in a tight hug. He kissed the top of your head, and finally, you’d felt his arms around you again. And it’s was as if all of his love visibly seeped into you.
“Was so worried, satin. Thought somethin’ bad happened to ya.” He huffed out with furrowed brows. You laughed as you cupped his face in your dainty hands. “Nothin’ bad happened, Elvis. Just wanted to give you a lil surprise is all.” You muttered as you brought his face down to your level, giving him the tenderest of kisses.
You tasted like vanilla on his tongue, mixed with cherry from the cherry lollipop you always had in your mouth. Elvis wasn’t sure how you hadn’t gotten a cavity from it yet. Your hair smelled like fresh rose water, and he knew it was from your annual bath-soakings full of the best rose petals money can buy and scented bath bombs.
You were warm against him, your small body molding and fitting perfectly against him. He loved you. God, did he love you. His baby. His love. His wife. The woman he plans to bear his children. He couldn’t get enough of you
“I got you a cake, Elvis.” You smiled up at him. You were the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Your smile was contagious to him, as he felt a grin spread across his face. “Yeah, lemme see it, baby.” He said.
You clapped your hands together, exited to see his reaction of the large cake, decorated to perfection. You took his large hand in yours and dragged him to where everyone else was in the dining room. On the table sat the cake, and Elvis felt his eyes widen at the mere heigh of it.
“Woah, that’s a lot of sugar, honey.” He chuckled out as he walked closer to take a good look. “Look at the top, El.” You urged. Like a good husband, he obliged and a chuckle rumbled in his chest.
“I love it, baby.” He said as he walked over and tightly hugged you, slightly lifting you off the ground in the process. “I’m glad! I hoped you would.” You said happily.
He didn’t have a chance to respond before the Memphis mafia swept him away from you. “Sharing is caring!” They yelled with loud boyish chuckles as they went to the pool room. Elvis mounted an ‘im sorry’, to which you merely giggled.
All throughout the night Elvis was occupied with his family and friends celebrating. You knew you shouldn’t, but you had to admit that you felt kind of neglected. In more ways than one.
He’d looked so unbelievably handsome all night, and you couldn’t help but become all hot and bothered as the night continued. You watched him play pool with his friends, his arms were exposed and fit. Elvis was no muscle maniac, but he had just the right amount for your mouth to start watering like a bitch in heat at the sight.
You finally built up enough courage to speak up about it as you walked over to where he stood in all his glory. His back was now facing you as you lightly gripped his arm to grab his attention, making him spin around to look at you.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, his accent thick. You grew shy as his friends grazed in on the interaction, being nosy. You chewed on the bottom of your lip, and Elvis understood as he slightly leaned down is you could whisper into his ear. “M horny, Elvis.” You muttered, barely just loud enough for him to hear.
Elvis lightly hummed. “S that right?” He asked, and you nodded in confirmation. “Alright, don’t worry, sugar, I’ll take care of ya.” He stated.
“I’m done for the night, fellas.” He said as he tangled his fingers with yours, pulling you away from the group of men. They whistled knowingly, followed by a few hollers, making your cheeks flush red and bury yourself in Elvis’ side. He chuckled as his arm wrapped around you, walking up the stairs to your shared room.
He opened the door for you and flicked the lamp light on. “I got another surprise for you.” You muttered, shy under his gaze. He peered down at you. “Yeah? What is it, baby?” He asked, his breathing heavy.
You began to slide your dress off of your shoulders, below your breasts and down your hips before letting it fall to the floor beneath you. Elvis’ mouth watered at the sight and he felt his pants tighten uncomfortably, his slacks suddenly becoming too tight in his crotch area.
There you stood, in a baby pink lingerie set. Floral and lacy, nipples and pussy barely covered by flimsy fabric. Your thighs covered in garters with little pink flowers embroidered onto them delicately. What made Elvis go over the edge though, is when you turned around to show him your perky ass.
In cursive, sat nice and pretty was ‘Elvis Presley’.
He felt like he could cum in his pants right then and there.
“D-do you like it?” You asked, nervous at his silence. He scoffed. “Like it? Baby, i fuckin’ love it.” He said, spinning your around to face him before sliding his hands past your waist, down to your ass, tightly squeezing both of your ass cheeks.
You bit your lip as you looked up at him. “Yeah?” You whispered as his leaned down. “Fuck yes.” He muttered before his lips crashed down onto yours in a heated kiss.
It was sloppy as your tongues tangled with each other, you fighting for some kind of dominance that you knew Elvis wouldn’t allow. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, making him groan, biting your lip in retaliation. His hands squeezing the fat of your ass tighter, gripping you impossibly closer to him.
“Let me make you feel good, Elvis.” You breathed out against his lips. He merely clicked his tongue. “Hm?” He asked again. Your legs rubbed together, slick coating both of your inner thighs.
“Please let me make you feel good, daddy.” You repeated, more desperately this time. He groaned in satisfaction. “Good girl, go ahead, baby.” He urged.
You dropped to your knees and watched as he unbuttoned his pants, letting them drop to the floor. You licked your lips at the sight of his leaking cock, standing hard and ready for you in any way you can take him. He was long and girthy, balls hung, seemingly painfully full. Your core ached to relieve him.
You licked around his tip before licking his slit that leaked slaty pre-cum, and his hiss was enough for you to suck his tip into your mouth. “Fuck!” He yelped out as you sucked harshly, before taking him deeper into your mouth.
You bobbed your head up and down, your hands reaching to fondle his aching balls. If there was one thing you knew how to do, it was giving mind blowing, other worldly head. Your little mouth drove Elvis beyond crazy, wether it be for talking shit or having his cock in it.
His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you effortlessly deep throated his cock, and you felt him throb in your mouth. You gagged around him, making him throw his head back and let out a desperate moan.
“Yess, fuck! Just like that, honey. Suckin’ your husbands cock so well. Takin’ such good care of me.” He breathed out. You knew he was about to cum as his fingers found their way in your large hair, gripping tightly. “M gonna cum, baby. Shit.” He moaned out.
Your mouth moved to suck one of his balls into your mouth and your hand moved quickly to stroke his needy cock. Your hand moved fast, your fist tight around him. It was all too much, the way your mouth sucked his balls in like a vacuum and your hand stroking his hand at a quickening pace.
His cum spurted from his cock, and your mouth shot up just in time to get it in your mouth. You sucked his tip, milking him of all the cum he had stored away in his heavy balls. “Holy fuck, you’re so fuckin’ good, soso good f’me.” He said, mouth hung agape as you released his tip with a loud ‘pop’.
You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show him the cum that rested on your tongue. He licked his lips and felt his cock harden again. “Swallow.” He said. And like the good little wife you are, you listened..
“Good girl. Now, getcha’ lil ass on the bed n’ bend over f’daddy.” He said as he helped you to your feet, slapping your ass playfully as you passed by him to the bed, making you giggle.
You bent over, legs spread enough so he could see the thin string covering your pussy that was now a darker shade of pink from your juices. “Look at you, all nice n pretty. All this for me, sweetheart?” He asked as he slipped the thin string to the side.
You nodded your head feverishly. “Yes, daddy. M’only wet f’you.” You muttered as you teased your ass into the air, pushing it towards him. He swatted your asses harshly, once, twice, before he lined himself to your entrance.
He teased his tip into you, making you groan. “Please, please, please—“ you chanted like it was a prayer. His hand snapped to your hair, leaning your head back. “You take what I give you, wife.” He muttered as he tenderly kissed your forehead.
“Yes, daddy, m’sorry.” You muttered out, gasping as you felt his cock enter you without warning. His tip kissed your cervix, and your mouth hung open, throat going dry. “Shit, so tight. Grippin’ my cock so good.” He huffed out.
“E-Elvis!” You whimpered out, the sting making your eyes water. His heart ached at the sound of you in any kind of pain. He peppered sweet kisses along your spine and on your shoulders in reassurance. “S okay, m’ gon’ take care of ya, don’t worry.” He whispered into your hair as he kissed your head.
Your stomach felt like it was doing summer salts and butterflies exploding in it all at once. You loved him more than words could ever describe and nothing in the world would ever change the way he made you feel, even 5 years deep into marriage, he still makes you fall in love with him all over again.
A wave of pleasure consumed you as you felt him re-enter you, picking up his pace at pounding into your throbbing cunt. “Elvis! Fuck! Just like that!” You moaned out.
Every time his hips slammed into yours, you released little ‘ahs’. The sound was like music to his ears. Knowing he was making you feel good, made him feel at least 20x better. If there was one thing he took pride in, it was pleasing his woman in every way he could.
“Gonna fill this lil pussy, you want that? Hm? Want me to fill you with my babies?” He asked, his hands gripped your hips. “Yes, yes, please! Need your cum in me, daddy!” You groaned.
He pulled out of you, flipping you around before re-entering you. “Wanna see you when we cum, yeah? Gon’ see ya beautiful fuckin’ face, honey.” He moaned out as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.
He was pussy drunken and his mind was fuzzy as your walls squeezed him in a vice grip. He didn’t know how much longer he would last. “Daddy! M’gonna cum, fuck m’gonna cum!” Your voice high pitched, and your head thrown back. Elvis brought his hand up to your neck, squeezing your throat just enough to make you see stars when it was paired with his piercing cock.
“Need you.” You whimpered out, grabbing at his free hand. A thing you did that Elvis thought was the cutest thing, and adored so much, was that every time you came on his cock, you made sure to hold his hand. It comforted you and Elvis loved it as he reached his high. “I’m right here, satin. Gon’ fill this cunt.” He said, biting his lip.
“Oh!” You moaned out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, covering Elvis’ lower abdomen in your vile juices just as he painted the inside of your walls white with his seed.
He fucked you through your orgasm, and you could feel each time his cock spurted out a new round of cum inside of you. His balls tightening as your sweet pussy milked him, and all he could think about was how nice and round you’ll be with his babies. The perfect wife.
Your hand reached up to lovingly cup his face, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to his bitten lips.
“Happy birthday, baby.”
˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚
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hollyhomburg · 8 months
Text
Before I Leave You (Pt.66)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.
Tags: Blood, Guns, violence, near death experiences, everyone lives nobody dies...but someone does die this chapter, horror, non-lethal injury, talks of death and dying, a bit of body horror, Trans! tae, Tae is briefly dead named in this, implied/referenced intimate partner violence, flashbacks, brief suicidality.
W/c: 8.3k
A/N: ahhhhhh <3 we're finally ready for this part of the story <3 i wonder what your guys reactions will be, i'm really glad i decided to split this chapter into two peices! it's much cleaner this way. don't be 🥲 too mad at me.
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
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(Four years prior, Hoseok)
Today is the day that Hoseok will meet his future pack, he just doesn’t know it yet.
It always feels like a bit of betrayal but the worst and best days of your life often come close together. Maybe just for contrast. A bit of good in the bad. A slice of cake in a feast of raw meat.
This starts as just another bad day in a long stretch of shitty days. The kind of days were anxiety bubbles up and how afraid you are is all you can think about. Taking one breath and then another like just staying alive means you're guaranteed to get better.
The only place to go from rock bottom is up, and hoseok's sneakers are firmly on the concrete, standing outside of the record store in the rain with no place to go.
Hoseok has been afraid for a long time. He can't really remember even if he thinks hard, the last morning he woke up not afraid.
What hoseok really needs is a day off, but he really can't fucking afford it. He can't afford anything- certainly not a one-bedroom apartment on his own. If he's really really lucky maybe he'll be able to find a closet room somewhere that will cost almost his whole paycheck. Because after today-
After today, Jung Hoseok will be homeless, packless, and alone. His pack dropped the news on him last night…or well ex-pack.
He doesn’t expect that he’ll be moving into the pack's house on this rainy day, he doesn't expect that by the end of the week, he won't be worrying about where his next meal will come from because Jin will be there with it ready. Jimin sometimes too.
He won't be worrying about where he'll sleep because the bed in their spare room that smells like tae tae tae will be his. He'll roll around in it when the door is closed, shy about it because Hoseok has never liked other alpha's scents so much before. And when he comes home and Jungkook has made a nest in it, it will feel like a bit of an impossible silver lining, a bit too much- to have an omega making him a nest, making something special just for him
It takes three weeks for Namjoon to make him a house key for himself. After he gets left outside in a very similar storm to this. The doctor will touch his cheek, thumbing at the dimples that they share. how special is it that each smile gets cradled like a crescent moon? the heavens have left imprints on both of their skin. Freckles for stars and dimples for moon's.
"I don't want you to get sick pup."
"People don't get sick from wet heads anymore hyung."
"They don't. But I want to keep you dry and comfortable in my den. i know you still want to look for apartments but...what if you didn't?"
But neither the weather nor Hoseok knows to prepare for good news. Right now the heavens open up and release its deluge, thick rain the way that only happens at the start of summer. Worms and other wriggly things crawl their way out of their holes to find a good spot to die next to Hoseok's shoes. Worn fancy sneakers that his pack-omega had gotten him a few months ago for their anniversary. They're the nicest thing he's ever owned.
His ex-pack omega.
It's hard to rewire your brain, especially for alpha's. Hoseok is a lone wolf. He hasn't been without a pack in so long, it feels weird to not have someone to call, someone he needs to trail after and cling to. He checks his phone but he doesn't have a single notification from them.
He doesn't have a single notification from anyone.
Hoseok is glad he doesn't feel his instincts as keenly as other alphas do. Otherwise, he might be inclined to gnash his teeth at the people who pass by him on their way to work, umbrellas almost bumping him, perceiving even closeness as a threat. So vulnerable without a pack (lone alphas are always the first to starve in winter).
Hoseok shivers even though its summer, he's soaked to the bone after a few minutes.
He has a key to the record store. He could go inside. Granted- he should be inside already. Opening up shop, making coffee, and letting the place warm up. But standing out in the rain feels too much like penance.
Hoseok likes the rain. The smell of it. The way it makes the whole world ache and go still. He feels every drop on his dark hair, soaking through his thin hoodie. It's cleansing almost, letting the rain soak him through.
(The end of relationships is always hard, let alone the end of abusive relationships, they’re downright terrible).
Hoseok keeps replaying their words in his head, with every slosh of a nearby car, every honk of a taxi. The stoplight red and green bleeding onto the wet concrete. Yellow flashing in contrast with hoseok's dark memories.
“You’re welcome to stay here until the lease runs out, but the four of us need to move back home. You understand Hobi don’t you? We’re just omega’s- we’re just girls- and we think this could be a clean break for all of us. We just don't want to lead you on any longer.”
The worst part is that Hobi had sort of known, had sort of already realized what was happening. he’d seen it in their looks; distant and despondent. Their touches that did not linger longer than necessary, cheeks turned as he comes in for a kiss. The phone calls hushed in the other room that cut off abruptly when he entered.
The lease on their apartment ends today. The place has already been professionally deep cleaned and Hoseok's things are packed in his car in plastic bins. He has 6 of them to his name.
He doesn’t have a place to go yet, he might just sneak into the back room at the record store and sleep there until he figures something out. Hoseok drove to work early because he didn't have another place to go.
This version of Hoseok is not the one you know, this version of Hobi is 23 and hopeless, can’t think about moving back in with his parents a city away, with nothing but a rusted-out Corolla that barely gets him to work let alone through the 200-mile trip. It will die on him in about 6 months and Namjoon will be thankful that Hoseok no longer is driving around in a deathtrap.
He hadn’t even gotten this job by himself, his pack omega- his ex-girlfriend had gotten him this job almost 4 months ago after his last one didn’t pan out. Temporary work for temporary people.
Nothing feels like his. Not his body and certainly not this job.
Hoseok hasn’t smoked in months, but something that feels an awful lot like self-disgust worms under his skin and he can’t resist. Not today of all days. Smoking is something that he doesn’t indulge in often, and hasn’t indulged in since… becoming an alpha to someone. But he guesses it doesn’t matter now without anyone to complain that they don’t like the smell.
The cigarette mixes with the smell of petrichor and Hoseok’s own acidic scent. The smell of a terrified alpha draws him more than a few looks but he pays them no mind. He's thankful for his soaking face, at least the rain keeps out the tears. Cool and soothing against his face.
Hoseok just wants- Hoseok just wants to call them. To talk to someone.
Ending relationships is always like this. You want to keep being good, keep being what they want, but that’s impossible. You can’t act or behave right and dupe someone into loving you. Sometimes the love just isn’t there. (A smaller shyer voice says it was never love at all, you can't possess love, only be given it and Hoseok feels like a cast aside possession. Love and abuse cannot coexist).
Hoseok should have known. He keeps replaying the moments in his head. He’d seen them exchanging knowing looks when they thought he wasn’t looking.He thought he was just being paranoid, until yesterday morning when they’d taken him aside.
“You knew this had to end one day Hoseok" "You knew one day we'd move on." "As much as we appreciate what you’ve done for us, we think it’s time for us to move on.”
“What do you mean? I thought we were leaving next week, you really left me with only a day to find a place to go?”
“We’re sorry Hoseok, your last rut was just too much to deal with. We think it's best if we just stay on our own. It's a clean break this way.”
"Wait, please- I love you."
"We know. We're sorry."
Hoseok is too much for anyone to deal with. He doesn’t call his friends (he hasn’t met up with any of them or returned their texts in months thanks to several pointed words from his pack omega). He doesn’t go inside yet because he deserves the rain. He sits out front of the record store, smoking a cigarette that will probably end up killing him down the line, and thinks Good.
He tells himself the irritation in his eyes is just because of the cigarette smoke blowing in his face, even though he knows it's not. He's not even inhaling right because his breaths come all hitched and pathetic. Anyone would be sad if their relationship of several years had ended. Anyone would be devastated.
Hoseok checks his phone again. Nothing.
Most people on the crowded street ignore him. Though the thick throng of people going about their business, probably going to work at their 9 to 5 jobs that pay enough to afford apartments and packmates. Hoseok is the one soul that stands stationary.
Until one, someone a few feet back stops, tipping their face through their hood to look at him. The only other person without an umbrella.
Hoseok knows his face and his name. It’s just Min Yoongi- his coworker and sort of friend who's coming in for his shift. Hoseok doesn't love Yoongi yet but they're sort of friends already. They might be better friends if Hoseok could get over his admiration and jealousy.
Yoongi has this way of quietly taking care of the people around him. He picks up Hoseok's jacket when it slides off the hook at work, asks him if he wants coffee and even pays for it when he goes to the coffee shop next door. He compliments Hoseok's music tastes when it's his turn to play something, he gives Hoseok the aux frequently in a way that feels a little bit like flirting.
The only two good things about Hoseok's job are the music and Min Yoongi.
He even laughs at Hoseok's shitty jokes when they're stacking new inventory saying cryptic things like "they can't be worse than my omega's jokes."
That's why Hoseok's jealous. Yoongi gets packmates, five of them who make him lunch even when he's only got a four-hour shift. that often linger outside to walk him home or pick him up in their shiney not new not old cars.
(Yoongi's packmates certainly have better things to do than send Yoongi to work with a second packed lunch. "Jin-hyung caught a glimpse of you through the doorway, the only thing that he hates more than Namjoon's snoring is skinny Alpha's.")
Min Yoongi has that look that people do when they're well-loved by packmates. Hair ruffled and neck dotted with bruises that might as well be mating bites for a beta. Beta's don't mate, but these ones certainly keep him close. He wears their scents like a shield. Sometimes so thick that Hoseok can't even smell any of his chocolate scent.
Right now, staring at Yoongi a few paces into the street, all Hoseok can smell is the rain.
When Hoseok had been introduced to him it had felt strange just by virtue of Yoongi's sub gender. A beta? Working somewhere so normal? Weren’t beta's supposed to be like- financial advisors or assistants to the president or something? Betas are supposed to have more important jobs than pushing vinyl and bumping Hoseok's shoulder playfully.
(Hoseok hasn’t seen it yet, the way that the owner hands over little white baggies to people who come in looking hungry for a high that cigarettes or alcohol can’t fix. Hoseok hasn’t yet realized that the record store isn't just a record store. This is just one front business of many that the family has organized across this city and the country for distribution of some of his most precious inventory). Yoongi has worked her for the last year, takes calls in the back for the family. The owner only bows to him when Hoseok's not around.
They only hired hoseok for tax purposes. Having three employees looks less suspicious than just two.
The beta looks concerned, and Hoseok knows he can’t hide the fact that he’s been crying as the beta steps up and pushes Hoseok back under the awning. Out of the rain and into the warmth of the doorway. This kind of movement would make any alpha snap, but not Hoseok. Hoseok just tucks his chin down and starts to cry.
“Oh Hoseok.” Hobi sniffles, and wipes his runny nose on his sleeve. Yoongi's hand curls against his throat, chocolate scent spiking to soothe. “You’re soaking wet."
Yoongi grabs his wrist and Hoseok almost keens at the gentle touch. Whole body shaking, shoulders curling in Yoongi's direction. Yoongi’s lips press into a thin line and then tugs him inside.
~-~
(Now, You)
You hold your breath. Still peering around the corner, watching and waiting for the man to spot you.
But he doesn't, after a breath where his soft footsteps echo, you wait, but nothing happens. You peak back around the corner.
You absorb and catalog the details as fast as you can; the black ski mask, covered by one of those traditional Korean masks, wooden with red lacquer. This one is a little different than the one that Jimin had; not twisted with thick eyebrows in a snarl. This one is white with red splotches on the cheeks, like a ghost sent down from above to rob you of your humanity.
The bulletproof vest stops at the collarbones. The gun itself is a black generic model. The long end is extra bulbous with something that might be an attached silencer. His hands covered in black nitrile gloves, leathery at first glance. There is a knife at his waist along with a barrage of other small things; rope and a knife, duct tape and handcuffs. His heavy boots look steel toed and reinforced.
The man (because it is a man you realize; tall, maybe taller than Namjoon) trains his gun at the landing on the top of the stairs. Pointing it in the direction of Hobi, Tae, and Jin’s hushed voices.
Hobi giggles and it sounds so bright. Echoing off the walls and filling the house with his musical laughter.
There is a phone cord tangled in your hands, long and white. You grip it tight.
This man might be silent but you’re quieter as you slide your bare feet across the smooth floors. Your strides are so quiet. You take one step and then another until you're behind the man, mirroring him.
You remember when Yoongi redid the floors, it was one of the few things that he did right away; before the pack came to live here (to love here). It took him weeks and weeks of sanding before he got them to his liking. Days more of brown dark stain that colored his hands ruddy until the soft matte finish stuck. Every pass with the belt sander and dirty rag a movement of love, a meditation for it.
Yoongi made every inch of this house with the same loving intent; to make it a home for all of you. a place to be safe and nurse your wounds and hearts. You won’t let it become a grave. You won’t let this person stay here and ruin it.
Most people get it wrong; In order to kill it is not a matter of elegance or effort. There is no such thing as a perfect kill either. Emotionless and analytic isn't enough and being justified only gets you halfway. There is no way to do it cleanly. People die just as they live, messy and hopeful and dirty.
Murder isn't a matter or wanting or wishing, It’s a matter of rage.
It’s always been this way. Rage has been chewing a hole through you from the moment that you pulled the trigger with Geumjae. From the moment you said ‘I do’. Rage that these violent things have been done to you, that they continue to happen, that you can’t just get away from all the hurt and trauma.
Rage has eaten you clean through to the bone. Rage has made you skinny and starving, rage has made you timid and fragile. But now you're the hungry one. Right now, only three words run through your head;
How dare she.
How dare she send this man into your house. How dare she point a gun at the upstairs, in the general direction of your nest and your packmates. The altar at which you so desperately cling to, for sweet dreams and sweeter worship (There is no deity above the god of love, not even death. Death cannot take the love from your chest, someone dying does not make you stop loving them).
How dare she even think about hurting the people you love.
There is no courage, no bravery, no thought in your head about how stupid it might be as you step closer behind the man. You are not a trained assassin. You’re just an omega.
The adrenaline rush is an old friend, a thrall both intoxicating and unnerving. Your heart beats loud in your ears. You grip the phone cord in your hands and take a quiet steadying breath. He doesn't see you, he doesn't hear you, he doesn't know that you're behind him.
Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.
The assassin’s foot ascends the bottom step. You don’t let him get to the second before you’re moving, hurtling forward. Footsteps no longer light. Your hands go over the man’s shoulders. The cord no more than a white flash across his vision before you draw it tight across his neck.
The pain and panic are instant as you’re suddenly tethered to a six-foot-four assassin and struggling to stay on your feet as he stumbles back. You’re pulled off your feet and down the stairs, but you keep it as tight as you can and you don’t let go. Fighting to keep your makeshift garrote tight as he scrambles to get his fingers around where it digs into his skin. Spluttering loud.
The hard wire digs, cutting easily through plastic and then your skin as he tries to pull you off. You don’t let go until he backs you into the entryway wall and slams you against it with a dizzying clang of bone and body hitting something solid. Your head narrowly avoids one of the hooks that the pack hangs their coats on. An inch to the left and he'd have impaled your skull on it. An inch to the left and you'd be dead.
A single inch.
His head slams into your face, and you feel something in your nose pop, flooding your mouth with blood so thick you choke.
He slams you against the wall once, twice, and then a third time until your grip goes slack and slippery with blood. It knocks the breath out of you, and he finally throws you off. You both fall to the ground like stones. Both of you gasp and struggle for breath. At least one of your ribs it broken, but because of the adrenaline you can't even feel it.
When the man lifts his black gloves to his throat, they come away glossy with blood.
(It’s crazy how you never notice the change from the day to day, one day you are begging for a reason to hold on, a reason to live, and the next you’re fighting tooth and nail to keep going. Just about gnawing your own arm off to get out. To survive and live to see another day. Another sunrise.)
By that time the air has returned to your lungs it’s enough for you to scream. “Jin! Jin! There’s someone in the house there’s-”
You try and inhale through your nose and blood makes you choke. You push at the floor with your hands, struggling to stand, fingers slippery and tacky with your blood.
The man tries to scramble up the stairs but you latch onto his legs and make him drop. Doing everything in your power to keep him from going up to them, to your packmates. Hugging his ankle to your chest to slow him down (the same way you’ve hugged Namjoon’s arm and Yoongi’s, the way you held Hobi in the nest on the couch just a few shattered days ago).
The man turns the gun on you, pointing it to your head, you flinch, waiting for the shot-
and open them as He heaves a frustrated roar before he wheels away and turns, aiming at the top of the stairs instead of right in your face.
You could have died right then. could have and should have, but you didn’t. Your brain is too messy with adrenaline right now to make sense of it.
Why didn't he shoot?
The gun goes off, a bullet whizzing by Jin’s head. His face, scared, on the stairs flashes ever briefly. Ducking for cover just in time. The doorframe explodes in a cacophony of dark wood splitters. The doorknob sparks and bursts into a million pieces with another shot. metal clanking against the ceiling, the walls, down the stairs.
One second, you’re holding onto his heavy leather boot, and the next it’s colliding with your face and you’re out like a light.
Getting hit in your face is always such a disorientating experience. You’d never gotten used to it, even with Geumjae. Granted it’s hard to get used to the stomach-churning low vision feeling of weightlessness, like vertigo only worse.
"Hobi! don't- jesus fucking christ-"
You’re not quite sure what happens next only that you can’t see for a moment after the boot hits your face, and you take big breaths through your mouth. Blood, you taste blood. And then your vision comes back. Black spots and all and there’s Hobi’s face in front of you. No assassin, just him, helping you up from the floor. You're not on the steps anymore but at the bottom of them.
“The kitchen, the kitchen," Blood rushes over your bottom lip. Hoseok wipes it away, inhaling a jagged breath. "He’s-”
He pushes at your shoulders. “The car- get to the car.” It feels impossible. This can be happening in your house. Are you about to have a shoot-out in the street? On your quiet cul-de-sac? But then, in the corner of your vision dark movement.
You tug Hobi’s head down the second that the gun goes off- probably saving his life, definitely saving it as the bullet tears through the banister and ends in a hollow thump in the wall. he may not have shot you but he has no quams shooting at Jin and Hobi. The bullets hit the wall- Maybe 6 inches above your bent heads. Too close, close enough that Hobi trembles in your hold. And he rips something- a piece of the doorway, out of his arm with a wince before he covers your body with his own.
The volley of gunshots are so loud, so vicious as they blow things apart, tearing holes through Yoongi’s coat, the doorway, the banister, and the narrow stairway rungs. Pieces of wood hit your curled forms. Hobi shoves your head down when you try to look.
There is wetness, hot, something hot on your hands, your neck, you know it’s blood before you look. You think it’s from you until the Gunsmoke clears and you realize- fingers skimming across hoseok's forehead, a gash above his eyebrow.
A bullet graze by his hairline thats bleeding profusely. head wounds always bleed a ridiculous amount.
There are more bullets behind you but it’s just Jin returning fire.
Jin’s got Tae behind him. Her face ashy and pink from the shower and panic, her mid-length dark hair such a tangle, cowering behind his back. Jin's gun is so much louder without the silencer. Did he bring one upstairs? Or did he get it from Jimin’s stash?
Jin nearly drags Tae to the three of you, and she clings to you. Your hand finds her face. Fingers are red and bloody smudging against her cheek, blink and you're back there a million moments in the past; dotting red blush across her cheeks with a brush- your fingers- kissing it into place with your lips- painting a line of maroon across her eyelids to bring out the lighter flecks in her eyes- Watching her twirl in a red dress. Pressing your red lips against hers in a quiet dark moment in the library room. With her in Hobi's red car- Everything red.
If it starts with red, maybe it's fitting that it ends in red too.
Jin doesn’t give you time to reminisce. Pushing her shoulder down hard. His bare chest splattered with splinters from the door. Covered in wood fragments that stick to his black sweatpants and damp feet. Shouting, “All of you get down!”
You follow your pack omega’s words. Hobi and Tae With their damn alpha instincts blanket you as Jin fires again. The shots are so much louder in the small space. Another shot, another thunder strike. tae grips your wrist tight, your hands.
When you look down, they look mutilated. you can see bone in one place, deep gashes across the centre of your palms.
Your ears ring and you can't make sense of anything over the noise. Jin returns every bang with a boom of his own, bright flashes lighting up the dark staircase. Casing after casing tinkling down to the floor, rolling across the floorboards
But then, for a second- the gunfire goes quiet.
The house creeks and the three of you hold your breath. Jin's still half-concealed. The air heavy and clouded with gunsmoke and the smell of blood.
Hobi tentatively gets onto his knees and then stands when he doesn't immediately get shot at. You make a small noise in your throat, the loudest that you dare, but he’s looking after Jin, standing in the darkness, hackles raising his angry scent of burning sugar acrid in your nose. His hand slides out of yours, your blood on his palms.
And then you hear the rush of boots, echoing in the living room, near your nest- you’d never unmade it after you and Hobi fucked there. You'd been too busy taking care of Jimin. Hoseok bears his teeth.
Hobi turns, sliding out of your hands quicker than you can grab him. Quicker than you can tell him that he’s being dumb, that he’s being suicidal.
“Not my girlfriend! You asshole!”
The world is a dizzying cacophony of gunpowder, pain, bullets, and shouting. Jin yells Hoseok’s name. But the alpha heads after the assassin regardless of your cries. Jin narrowly keeps him from running headlong into no mans land. the open area by the door that would leave Hoseok a sitting duck.
Tae’s standing up on unsteady legs as you all spill out of the stairs into the narrow hall. Out from her hiding place cowering behind the banister. Your attention isn’t on her it’s on Hobi. Neither you nor Jin are looking at her. You’re running after him on shaky legs. Jin holds you both back, trying to corrall you. The air is cloudy with Gunsmoke, hazy and heavy. Her eyes are wide and pretty like dark marbles as she watches Hobi.
They’re just as pretty when the gun presses to the back of her head.
Everyone turns and goes still. The man has Tae in his arms, hand in her hair making her neck arch. The gun pressed to her jaw. Finger on the trigger.
Her body trembles and she doesn’t turn, frozen still in fear a shallow whine building in her throat.Jin has the gun trained on the man faster than you can make to step in Tae’s direction. But it’s no use.
He must have gone around, run through the livingroom through your pantry. A similar path that you took to surprise him. He must know the floor plan of the house, must have studied it to prevent situations like this. You have no upper hand here with tae in his arms.
Tae’s mouth is buttony and parted, but it settles into a resigned line.
Jin’s never been a good enough shot- not for one like this, even barely 10 feet away. He might hit Tae. Shaky, Jin takes his finger off the trigger and stoops down to put the gun on the floor. His other hand is up, already surrendering when the man jerks Tae's head back by her hair. Rougher than he needs to be.
“Don’t shoot her, please don’t shoot- please.”
The man juts his chin at the gun on the floor. “Kick it away now, be a good omega.” Jin grits his teeth but does as he says.
The man’s voice is rough as gravel. Dignified, but with no obvious accent. Not the quiet cadence that you’ve come to expect from the family. Neither posh nor lowbrow. Something in between. Flat and monotone. You're sure that you've never heard his voice before.
“I have to admit, your file said you’d be resistant, but it said nothing about you being dumb as fuck and a poor shot to boot.”
Jin licks his lips and bares his teeth, “Put that gun back in my hand and then say it again.” The masked man cocks his head to the side and then shrugs as if Jin's fury doesn't mean anything to him.
But He’s bleeding, it trails down to the floor so the words can't be genuine. It's a small wound, a graze on his right thigh. Red bright and hot that drips in onto the floor from his pant leg.
His hand tightens in Tae’s hair. “Line up against the wall. Now. Or I’ll blow her brains out in front of you."
You move first, eyes trained on Tae. But he snaps, eyes unreadable behind that mask, “No- not you. I’m not here to kill you.”
He tosses something to Jin and he catches it. Handcuffs that jingle and clink. Your foot hits an errant bullet with a similar tinkle. “Handcuff Jin to the stairs Hoseok.”
Your names, he knows your names. Your mind races over every detail, every moment trying to piece together a way to get out of this. a way to save them.
“Why are you doing this?” Hobi’s trembling, shaking. “Did Jimin-”
“Jiminie did nothing.” The man croons dragging the barrel of the gun down Tae’s cheek leaving a dark smudge in its wake. It's red on her face, the barrel must still be hot, your blood crusty around her lips.
“Honestly though, you should know he was a shit assassin. Truly piss poor even by industry standards. They always threw him the easiest kills."
The three of you are quiet, if he was hoping to elicit a reaction or more of a fight You don’t give him the satisfaction. Although jin grits his teeth, gnashing anger and an omega's feral instinct to protect their pups.
You step forward hands open, barely two steps from Tae. If you can just get to her maybe you can-
“Please- please don’t kill them."
He cocks his head at you, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Oh no, you misunderstand me I’m not going to do any of it.”
He taps Tae’s head once again with the gun and Tae starts to truly struggle. You tremble in fury and horror as you realize what he means with a sickening lurch in your stomach.
“This is how it’s going to work Y/n” You still at the sound of your name. “Taehyung here is going to shoot Jin and Hoseok. And then once we’re sure they’re good and dead, I’ll kill her.” He tosses you another pair of handcuffs, these ones are meant for you.
You take one step closer; Jin's gun is between your feet now. But you couldn't pick it up or else he'd shoot Tae. Time, you just need a minute to figure out what to do. How to get them out of this.
Yourself now, that's a different story. If you where in Tae's position you'd turn your face to the side and bite the mans hand.
“And what about me then? If they're all dead what’s to stop me from fighting?” he seems to consider it only briefly, the gun in his hand tilting so that you can see the dark oval where the bullet will come out, where it will rocket through Tae's skull and take all the little worlds she dreams of, all her poems and words and make them nothing.
“You think you're so precious? I’ll just kill you.” he says it like it's nothing. like you're nothing. He nods to the others, appealing to them and not you. “What do you want? All four of you to die? Or just three? What will hurt Namjoon the least? Do you think Yoongi will survive loosing his mate? What do you think Jinnie?”
You think of Yoongi's mating mark, the spot on his hip where your small curved semi-circles sit. You think of them turning black- a brand of a dead mate. You think of Hobi's eyes opening and never closing again. You think of Jungkook nesting without Jin and you. Of Namjoon holding out his hand and having no one to take it without Jin there.
You won't let any of this happen.
The others shoot each other unsure glances but you shake your head. you shake your head because earlier on the step, the man didn't take the easy shot, the easy kill.
If he really had orders to kill you, he would have done it then.
you step forward and shake your head. “I don’t believe you. I know your orders are to take me. That’s what all of this is about isn’t it?” The man doesn’t drop his weapon. Just presses it tighter to Tae’s jaw.
“Handcuff Jin now Hobi. Or else I’ll-”
You see the darkness settle in Jin’s eyes and before you know it he's turning to you, eyes flat. Endless in their darkness, the way they might if-
You don't let yourself consider it. You won't let it get to that point.
“Pup-”
You guess it does make sense, having you kill each other as opposed to the assassin doing the dirty work and implicating Moonbyul. If you really are on that ‘no kill list’ like Yoongi said at the hospital, having you take out each other is the only logical course of action. Once Tae kills Jin and Hobi, she'll be free game. This is the only way retribution won’t fall back on her. This is so similar to what she tried and failed to do with Jimin and Jin. This is a second attempt.
Only-
Only this time, you have a bargaining chip.
You step forward, in front of Hobi and Jin, blocking them from his line of sight. Barely a pace in front of Tae, but from the way he tightens his grip on her you know that you can go no further.
“You can take me; I’ll go with you. Willingly.”
Jin makes a noise in his throat and tries to move, but dares not when the man tightens his grip on Tae’s hair hard enough to rip a bit of it out.
“That’s what she wants, isn’t it? If you just let them live I’ll go with you.”
The man is silent for a second. Hobi trembles and so does Jin. For a second, you truly think that he’s going to take the bait.
But the mask is directed towards the floor, then back up at you. “Those aren’t my orders.” His finger is on the trigger so close to Tae’s head. “Now cuff him, I don’t want Jinnie getting any ideas.”
Hobi’s hands are shaking as he unwillingly shackles Jin to the steps as slowly as he can. He's buying time too. Every second and every heartbeat is precious. Both ends loop around a single rung and click closed. The rung itself is a little loose from a bullet that blew it apart near the bottom, it’s got to be the loosest one. Hobi turns, and you see the pre-meditation in his eyes; he chose that one so that Jin could still get free if he tried hard enough.
Everyone is trying. Everyone is defiant. The quirk of Jin's eyes as he settles, staring with rage at the man, his voice a quiet croon when he says what might very well be the last words he ever speaks.
“Tae you can close your eyes honey, it’s okay.”
"No I can't" She struggles harder against his hold, but it only gets her part of her hair pulled out with how rough the man jerks her, tears clouding her vision. "I can't- don't- please-"
Tae's soul has always been butterfly soft and flower tender. She's not made for this. She's not made for murder or pain or anything that lacks softness. She's never been a killer; Jimin was always that side of their coin. Saint and sinner.
Your body goes cold and for a second, you think you just might pass out, especially when Hoseok grips your wrist. One final squeeze in what can only be goodbye before he steps away and in front of jin. Hair puffed up. Jin is lowering his eyes and no no no.
No.
Tae is staring at you, eyes wide and scared, but you watch in total powerlessness as her eyebrows lower. You see the moment Tae thinks it. Eyes meeting yours, lips mouthing something that you can’t read. Maybe I’m sorry no.
I love you. Sorry.
The truth is that Jimin drilled this with her years ago before she left for college and he couldn’t follow. When Jimin first realized that for the first time in their lives she’d be without him as a constant protector. Delicate delicate Tae with her delicate pink soul. So vulnerable to the world and all its wickedness.
Tae didn't confront him about it until the nightmares were waking him up regularly. They were simple nightmares back then; images of Tae hurt and mugged. Tae beaten and left in an alleyway. Tae stalked through the night. Simple, but enough to keep him awake. Enough to torture him in his wakon hours as well as the nighttime.
If Jimin saw her now he'd pull the heavens down and demand something truly awful in exchange. He'd take one of the knives from the kitchen and gut him from belly button to addams apple. He'd eviscerate him- and Namjoon might help.
Hut there is no one here to do any of that, there is only Tae in the man's hold.
“What are you so scared of?” She’d asked one morning, trailing endless patterns on his chest in an effort to soothe him back to sleep.
“Something happening to you while I’m not there, mostly.”
“Would it make you feel better? If you taught me the basics?”
Jimin's pause is telling, more telling are his eyes, hopeful when he looks up at Tae. “Yes, it would.”
It’s been years and years since Jimin Tae have bothered to drill any self-defense sequences it at all. Since he stopped asking her to refresh the basics with him once a year just to make sure. Jimin never thought that Tae would have to use those skills. Like with most things, you just sort of hope you don't have to fight.
But Tae knows you did fight. It's written all over your bloody face and your bloody hands, tightened to fists by your side. If you fought tooth and nail to save them she should fight too.
Tae has written fight scenes like this before. If she survives the press of the gun to the back of her head, she’s gonna have one hell of a personal experience to pull from for her book. The content will be endless.
She seems to swell in the space, alpha shoulders settling back. Her mouth is moving, mouthing words her eyes on you. Just in case this is the last thing she ever does.
I’m sorry, I love you.
“Be a good boy and pick up the gun Tae.” Tae bends down, syrupy slow. Intentional with her every movement. One heartbeat. Another. Tae's fingers are maybe an inch from the gun when everything goes haywire.
When she's about halfway bent she uses her momentum to hurl her body back, slamming her head into the gun and then into the man’s face. Cracking the mask and from the sound of it, the man’s nose. Tae's almost knocks herself out with the force of her own head colliding with the man’s face.
She turns, she’s not finished, not even close. She might be a woman but she’s an alpha too. Alphas always always fight to protect their pack. She turns and swings.
And drives her elbow as hard as she can between the alpha’s legs.
Hobi can’t stop his flinch. That has to hurt.
The assassin’s gun goes flying, skittering across the dark floor and under the bookcase and Hobi ends up lunging for it. You go after it too but you end up holding Tae instead, crumpling to the floor without anything to hold her up. She’s holding the back of her head, eyes watering.
The traditional mask lyes in pieces around you, shatered by the force of tae's headbut. The man clutches his nose, features still covered by the ski mast. Growling out- "Bitch- fucking bitch! I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill all of you-"
Jin struggles yanking his cuffed hands down as hard as he can- in another minute he might get loose, but not quick enough as Hobi finds the gun and raises it. The bullet hits the molding beside your pantry, missing the man by inches as he dives away to safety. A lucky shot by any standard, let alone for a beginner. Hobi shoots off after him. knocking into the wall before he's up and chasing it.
“Are you okay, Tae, Tae- look up at me.” Tae is clutching the back of her head. Blinking rabidly. That fucking hurt even if it was worth it.
“I’m fine just-” She leans over your legs and vomits, retching loud and horrible. Concussion- she must have given herself a concussion. Namjoon told you months ago how to read the signs of them shortly after the first time Jungkook ever had a seizure in front of you.
You hold her shoulders, watching Jin try and break himself free, yanking his wrists hard enough that it has to hurt. Moving to try and help him.
And then Hobi makes a noise in the other room, a pained ghasp, A thump and then-
Tae is already up and running, stumbling into the wall. You glance at Jin. "Go- just go" Jin grinds out. But Tae has longer legs than you do even concussed.
By the kitchen, Hobi slips on a fallen tangerine. (You remember then, Yoongi clearing the table with a brush of his hands for Jimin, tossing a whole bowl of them onto the floor. Where they've stayed since then) they're fighting, the man must have managed to disarm Hobi somehow because the gun sits under one of the chairs. Both of them are fighting just beside the dining room table. Part of it splintered and broken where someone broke it.
They're grappling on the floor now. Pushing against each other trying to gain the upper hand. you've watched the alpha's wrestle before- small disputes to settle and reaffirm the hierarchy, but you've never seen hobi move like this. You watch the man grasp at his waist reaching for the knife. His hands so slick with his own blood that it clatters to the floor. Hobi may not be trained but he's a fighter too. Gnashing his teeth and growling. Reaching up into the shallow gash at the mans throat and digging in his fingers.
And then he’s got Hobi on the ground and his hands around your alpha's throat. Tae tries to get him off but he backhands her, sending her sprawling to the ground and clutching her cheek. Too dizzy to stand. Big hands that squeeze and squeeze and squeeze Hobi's narrow throat. Spit at the corner of his lips turning frothy as hoseok tries to breathe and can't.
“I didn’t come this far to get killed by a bunch of family rejects; 11 years and 1458 kills later and I will not die. Just give up already- I didn’t come this far to-”
Hobi’s face is turning purple, hands scrabbling, pushing against his face trying to get him off unsuccessfully. Dying there on the floor. Hobi is going to die right there if you don't do anything.
Jin is shouting from the other room and there is a frying pan in the kitchen. On the countertop that you snatch on your way past, winding up for it before you swing it with all your might at the man's head and-
At the end of the day, it’s hard to say exactly what kills him. Whether it's you or Tae who wields the killing blow. It’s more of a group effort between you and her.
Tae has read countless books that described love as some gentle force, but this love has not made her gentle. Tae cannot sit there on the floor and watch Hobi die. She'd do anything to protect him and the pack. She’d kill people like Minnie did, would lie just as Jin had, would have sacrificed anything- even herself just like Yoongi.
Love had always been giving in Tae's mind, and she would give countless sins and untold violence, to have this not be the last day with you and the pack.
The gun is just sitting there under the chair. tae hardly has to lean over to get it. (If she makes it out of this alive, she swears to himself that she'll finally start taking those kickboxing classes that Jungkook teaches.) Tae lifts the gun at the same moment that your hand descends with the frying pan.
Tae turns, points, aims, and fires. She doesn’t even think twice about it. The trigger goes down as easily as breathing.
Getting shot in the throat definitely distracts him enough, definitely makes him let go of Hobi, clutching at his own throat instead of his. blood rushing over his hand and down onto hobi's face. So much that it almost splashes.
And then the frying pan hits his head with a hollow final thud.
There is a placid terror in things like this, a quiet as things go and come. The thumping, the sobbing breaths you let out, the descent of your hand, beating out your terror on the body below, a vessel for all of your fear.
The handle of the frying pan is thick and heavy in your hands. You bring it down on the man’s head, the curved edge of the cast iron connects with the plate of his skull with a hollow thud. One second, he's clutching at his blown-apart throat, and the next he goes limp, blood and brain matter splatters loud and heavy along the floor. Falling on top of Hobi like a lead weight.
Hobi's brown eyes are bloodshot and red in his mouth, heaving one big breath that sends the room spinning. Sends vertigo into his veins and panic-running adrenaline. You lift your arms up again and hit him, descending again and again.
His body is still, so still. His chest gives one open shudder and then goes truly quiet. Frozen in time. You are covered in blood, in your mouth, on your hair, on the ceiling. More and more splatters as your hand goes up and then down in an endless loop.
Dark cotton soaks, matted with blood and brain matter, blurry from your tears. A bit of it hits your face, wet and stinky. People never tell you how horrible it smells when people die.
You don’t stop hitting the man, even when it's clear he's dead. Even when you glare down at him through the tears in your eyes and see half a face staring up at you. An eyeball rolls across the floor.
There are arms around you pulling you off of him eventually. Dry warm arms, big and heavenly. One wrist dangles with a pair of handcuffs as Jin yanks you back from the man. The body.
“Pup- It’s done, pup- he's gone- Stop.”
There is blood all over you. On your face, on your hands, around the frying pan. Tae too, sitting just beside you. Half of her body splattered. Hobi's soaked with it and still struggling to breathe. But both of them, the three of them are alive.
“It’s over pup.” Jin sounds like he might be crying. Tae definitely is.
Hobi puts his head between his knees, gasping for every breath but still breathing. Tae's got him in his lap. Holding on to him as he splutters. face so soaked with blood he can't open his eyes without blinking rapidly.
It’s anything but over you think as you let go of the handle of the frying pan.
It clatters to the ground with a bloody and final thunk.
~-~
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Notes:
if the beginning of the chapter feels weird/different in terms of narration that is because it was mostly written 3+ years ago and my writing style has changed alot! kinda crazy! hopefully people will just attribute it to hoseok's internal monologue. it might be meandering but i kept reminding myself that this is hoseok at his lowest you know?
One thing i want you guys to realize is that the m/c may not be smart, but holy fuck can she take a beating and still get up.
Gun shoot outs are uniquely hard to write because like, just bang and it's done right? idk why part of this writing just felt so tedious usually i love writing stuff like this :(
hobi calls the m/c his girlfriend 🥺 did you guys notice???? he's such a cute pup charecter.
i have more notes for this chapter BUT i can't share them until the next one is out because it involves hobi's secret.
i hope you guys see like- how good the m/c actually is at the crime and thinking on her feet shit- i think that this chapter above all others shows her street smarts. she knows to keep the guy talking and distracted- i think it compliments her similarities to jimin and jin like. the trio of them are very capable people you know? vs hobi who just headlong rushes the assassin and fucks shit up. i'm not saying it's his fault- he does the best that he can in this chapter.
I'm trying to pull from my actual knowledge of how guns work but fun fact, silencers are still fucking loud, like still so loud that you need ear protection. and even blank bullets can still cause serious injury at close range.
I'm again at the stage where i can't tell if the gun shooting scene is clunky and too predictable or if it's actually as creepy as i've made it out to be.
This is one of those situations- the bargaining for each others lives, that i've actually never had to handle. it's actually pretty unusual for me to write about things that i haven't experienced in some way shape or form.
i've only written a few scenes in my life that have made me wonder like "huh- i wonder if people might actually think that i've seen a dead body, been around a dead body, or killed someone before?" and ngl, the scene with the assassin dying is one that makes me wonder that... i promise i just have a scarily vivid imagination.
398 notes · View notes
hayleythesugarbowl · 3 months
Note
spencer agnew!
him and his partner are long distance and he surpises them and shows up
Birthday Wishes || Spencer Agnew x reader
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist  ⋆˚。⋆୨୧⋆
summary: you and spencer have been long distance for some time now, and he decides he wants to do something special and surprise you for your birthday
word count: 3.2k
warnings: mild language
a/n: ahh i’m so sorry this took me so long to get to but i hope you enjoy it!! i love writing for spencer sm 🎀🫶 also it’s still the 19th where i live so happy bday courtney!! 🎉
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     “Do you think green is my color?”
     “Hello to you too, Spencer,” you spoke into the phone you balanced on your shoulder as you tied your hair up in a towel. 
     “Hey, small talk can wait. This is a fashion emergency,” Spencer’s voice filled your ear as you wrapped another towel around your body, fiddling with the edges to keep it in place.
     “Alright,” you said, “That’s enough Project Runway for you.”
     “It’s a good show!” 
     You giggled, shifting Spencer to your other ear.
     “So,” he continued, “What are you doing right now?”
     “Right now? Well, I just took a shower and now I’m talking to you,” you told him.
     “I don’t want to be one of those guys, but, damn without me?”
     “I’m hanging up,” you giggled. “And like you’d fly hundreds of miles just to shower with me.”
     “You’d be surprised,” his voice took on a teasing tone, “I do have those frequent flier miles just waiting to be used.”
     You and Spencer had been long distance for about two months now. You’d agreed to stay together even though you were going to be moving across the country. 
     You’d met your boyfriend at work about nine months ago. You’d both been working at Smosh when you began dating and it all took off from there.
     First dates, anniversaries, you getting a job opportunity in New York, and now this. Talking to Spencer on the phone no less than three times a day.
     It had killed you to leave him. But you’d agreed that this was the best option for both of you. Spencer was almost more invested in your career than you were and you really appreciated him for being so willing to make things work for you. 
     Now, you set your phone down on the counter and pressed speaker phone as you    began to moisturize.
     “Don’t you have something better to use those on than one shower?”
     “Hey, don’t think this is all about you,” Spencer said. “Your shower has jets. Who wouldn’t fly across the county to use that thing.”
     You laughed, rolling your eyes playfully even though Spencer couldn’t actually see you.
     “Plus,” he continued, his voice becoming more serious, “I’d get to kiss you.”
     And there it was. The one thing you couldn’t do while you and Spencer were miles and miles apart.
     No more forehead kisses after a long day at work. No more long embraces that smelled like him. No touching at all.
     God, you missed him so much. There was only so much that technology could do.   
     You sank down on to the counter, letting your elbows prop you up. 
     “(Y/n), you still there? You’re not watching Runway without me, are you?”
     You attempted a weak chuckle. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
     As if sensing your sudden deflation Spencer asked you, “Hey, are you ok?”
     “I’m fine, Spence,” you said, tracing the pattern of the countertop with your fingertip as you talked, “I just miss you.”
     “I know,” he sighed, “I miss you too. Really freaking bad.”
     There was silence between you before Spencer said, “But hey, your birthday is coming up soon. Any plans?”
     “Not yet.” You shrugged off his abrupt subject change. 
     You hadn’t really wanted to do anything for your birthday, not without Spencer. You  had tried to squander your roommates attempts at throwing you a party multiple times.
     You appreciated her efforts, but you kind of just felt like a quiet evening eating cake in your bathrobe.
     “(Y/n), it’s not every day you turn 68,” Spencer teased, “You gotta celebrate these.”
     “Very funny,” you deadpanned. “And you’re one to talk! On your last birthday you just came to work in your pajamas and made everyone obey that ‘Mountain Dew me’ button.”
     “And that was a party! Some people got seriously hammered.”
     “Sure,” you agreed, “If by people, you mean you. And by hammered, you mean sugar crashed.”
     “Ok, I don’t get shower pics and you’re gonna start correcting me? I’m so out.”
     “Wait,” you stopped him, “switch to FaceTime.”
      You waited for the image of him to show up on your screen, pulling on the towel wrapped around your drying hair. Spencer’s face appeared suddenly and your heart leapt as you took him in.
     He was laying in bed and had his head propped up on one arm, the other holding his phone in his hand as he smiled up at you.
     His hair was tousled and he had his glasses on and he looked so damn sexy that you almost forgot what you were intending to do.
     “Ok, if you want shower pics so badly…” You flipped your camera and began pretending to take rapid photos of the shower curtain behind you.
     “You are so stupid,” Spencer laughed, rubbing his hand over his face before laying it behind his head again.
     “And you’re gorgeous,” you said, flipping the camera back to front-facing.
     “And you are working that towel.”
     You rolled your eyes, walking out of the bathroom and carrying Spencer with you. 
     You plopped down on your bed, just opening your mouth to speak when you heard someone yell your name from the other side of the apartment.
     “(Y/n)! I’m home! And these groceries aren’t going to put away themselves!” Your roommate called.
     “That’s Layla,” you huffed, “I better go before she rearranges the whole fridge.”
     “I’m going to pretend I’m not hurt,” Spencer clutched his chest in mock injury. 
     “I’ll call you later tonight, I promise,” you blew him a kiss and stood up from your bed. “I was just about to get dressed anyway.” 
     And by dressed, you meant your pajamas. 
     “Dang, I can’t believe I have to miss that,” he said. “‘Sure you can’t just put me on the night stand?”
     “Pervert!” You stuck your tongue out at him.
     “Woah,” Spencer held his arm up, “I just wanted to see your choice of clothing. You always know how to perfectly match patterns and textures with the undertones of —”
     “No more fashion speak!” You giggled, “Goodbye, Spencer.”
     “Bye, baby,” Spencer said softly, and the regret in his tone made it hard to hang up. “Love you.”
      “Love you more,” you whispered before ending the call. You slumped down onto your bed, letting out a sigh. 
      “Thank god!”
     You whipped around to see your roommate, Layla, standing in the doorway.
     “I thought I was gonna have to end that.”
     You shook your head at her as she came to sit down next to you on the bed. 
      “You still need help?” You asked her.
      “Nah,” she waved it away, “You lovebirds took too long. If you weren’t so cute together, it’d be hella annoying.”
      You smiled. You loved your roommate, brutal honesty and all.
      “But now that we’re here, can we talk about your birthday?” 
     You opened your mouth to protest and she interrupted you.
     “I know you’re going to say you don’t want to do anything but please just consider it. Your birthday’s in less than two weeks and you still haven’t let me plan a party.”
     “I don’t know, Lay,” you said, for the hundredth time, “I’m just not in a party mood.”
     “(Y/n), you can’t spend the rest of your life missing Spencer and talking to Spencer and thinking about Spencer. I get that you love him but maybe a little party would take your mind off things. And your boyfriend would want you to have a good time. What do you say?”
      Your best friend had a point. You had been pretty preoccupied with Spencer when you weren’t working or sleeping.
     And maybe she was right, maybe a little celebration was what you needed. Spencer had wanted you to do something for your special day.
     Besides, your friend was trying to do something nice for you. And the more you thought about it, the more it sounded like it could be an enjoyable experience.
     “Alright,” you told her, “Plan away.”
     “That’s the spirit!” Layla beamed at you, grabbing your hand before bouncing out of the room, probably to go buy party supplies.
     You laid back on the bed, smiling at the ceiling. You were actually excited for the party. 
     Your phone buzzed suddenly, and you reached across the comforter to grab it.
You had two texts from Spencer.
[Spencer] : wait i was actually serious about the green thing though!! 
[Spencer] : i’m doing a merch shoot tomorrow and i need to know 🙏 
     You grinned at the screen, remembering the first part of your phone conversation.
[(Y/n)] : any color is your color babe 
[(Y/n)] : but actually go with yellow 
     You waited for his reply to come, smiling when you read his messages.
[Spencer] : what would i do without you? 
[Spencer] : k, i better go. i gotta hit the shower myself (jet-less)
[Spencer] : stay tuned for pics 😉 
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
     Four days. It had been exactly four days since Spencer had stopped answering your calls.
     He only responded to your messages with short, generic texts and whenever you asked if he could call he had somewhere he needed to be or something he needed to do.
     You tried to be rational—maybe he really had gotten pretty busy at work lately—but you couldn’t stop yourself from worrying.
     You looked at your reflection in the mirror,  surveying your party outfit and running a hand through your hair, as you though not-so-party-like thoughts.
     Today was your birthday and Spencer hadn’t called or even sent you a text. You tried not to let it get to you and instead look forward to the party that was probably already starting in the living room. 
     You took a deep breath and went to open your bedroom door, but it flew open before you reached the doorknob.
     “There you are!” Layla greeted you with a smile, “C’mon, let’s get this party started!”
     “Hey,” you put on a smile, trying to not think about Spencer. “I was just getting dressed.”
     “Well, you look hot so let’s go,” she grabbed your arm and pulled you down the hall.
     You were greeted by a decorated room with streamers and balloons and presents and partygoers milling about, talking and laughing.
     You knew about half of the people that Layla had invited and you gave her credit for that—you didn’t know that many people in New York yet. Most of your friends were back in LA.
     You got a sharp pain in your chest as you thought about your loved ones back home—especially Spencer.
     “I present, the birthday bitch!” Layla announced with a dramatic flourish. 
     You couldn’t help grinning at her as all of the guests turned to look at you and began clapping. 
     “Thank you all so much for coming,” you addressed the room. 
     “And thank you,” you turned to your roommate, “for planning all of this.”
     “It was nothing,” she said, “now go enjoy your party!”
     And that’s what you tried to do. You spent the whole evening mingling with people and being wished happy birthday and sampling the hors d’oeuvres.
     You were enjoying yourself—as much as you could, at least. 
     You sat down on a bright yellow chair in the corner that Layla had bought a few weeks ago—personally it wasn’t your taste, but she loved it.
     Kind of like large parties and giant social gatherings that required you to have nonstop conversations with people you hardly knew.
     You pulled your legs up into the chair, sitting criss-cross and hoping no one would notice you taking a quick break from the festivities. 
     “Told you you’d like this chair eventually.”
     You looked up to see Layla standing to your right. 
     “I guess it’s growing on me,” you said.
     She sat on the arm of the chair, pulling your head to rest in her shoulder.
     “You can say your miserable, (Y/n)” she said, “I won’t be offended.”
     “No,” you shook your head on her shoulder, “I’m not miserable, I promise. I’m just…tired.”
     “Spencer still hasn’t called I take it.”
     “Nope,” you blew out a breath, “I’ve given up.”
     “I don’t know,” she said, standing up. “He might surprise you. You never know what the night may hold.”
     “Why the narrator voice?” Your mouth quirked up on one side. 
     She shrugged, “It’s fun and i never get to use it.”
     “Now come on,” your friend began dragging your chair out of the corner and towards the center of the room, “Time to for cake!”
     You shrieked as she pulled you through people before abandoning the chair and going to grab a large cake sitting on the counter.
     Once candles had been lit and people had been gathered, Layla handed you your cake.
     “Alright, make a wish!” she yelled.
     That was easy. You knew what you wanted more than anything else. You didn’t even have to think about what you would wish for when you blew the flames out.
     Everyone began to sing me happy birthday and you let Layla snap picture after picture.
     You knew wishes were stupid and almost never meant anything, but you couldn’t help imagining what it would be like if your wish did come true.
     You squeezed your eyes shut and blew out your candles, only thinking of one thing.
     I wish Spencer was here. 
     All the guests erupted into applause and you smiled, hoping your longing didn’t show on your face.
     But god you wished Spencer was here.
     Everyone finished clapping. The room fell silent for a moment, before—
     “I hope you didn’t waste that on me.”
     You froze. The voice came from behind you. You almost thought you imagined it, until you turned around.
     Because there he was. 
     You blinked, trying to make sure he wasn’t a figment of your imagination. But this was real.
     Spencer was standing in your living room, his hands in his pockets, looking at you how you imagined you were looking at him. 
     “Now that,” he pointed at your chair, smiling, “is my color.”
     And that was all he got out before you were rushing towards him and into his arms.
     Spencer wrapped his arms around you, laughing, lifting you from the ground and spinning you in a circle before setting you back down. 
     The room burst into applause for the second time that night. You almost didn’t notice over the rush in your ears as Spencer embraced you. 
     He pulled back just enough so that he could cup your face in his hands. “God, I forgot how beautiful you are in person.”
     You had so many questions bouncing around in your mind, your thoughts racing. 
     You settled on the one that encompassed all of them, “How?”
     “Well, y’know, there’s some distortion with iPhone cameras so you can’t expect—”
     You interrupted him, “That’s not what I meant.”
     “Oh, you mean the whole me being in your living room thing?” He shrugged, pulling his hands away from you and back into his pockets, “I kinda flew here.”
      Spencer had flown—all the way from Los Angeles—to surprise you. You’d had no idea he was even planning this.
     As if reading your thoughts, Spencer said, “I wanted to tell you so bad, but I also wanted to surprise you for your birthday so I sorta ghosted you.”
     He rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, c’mon, you know I would’ve spilled those beans.”
     And that explained the not calling or texting you. You couldn’t even feel relieved that he wasn’t mad or breaking up with you because you were so floored and excited that he was here.
     He had done this for you. 
     “Wow, I don’t know what to say Spencer,” you started, wrapping your arms around him again. “As far as gifts go, I’d say you win by a long shot.”
     “Hey, I helped!” Layla shouted, putting her hands in her hips, her grin almost as wide as yours. 
     “Couldn’t have done it without you!” Spencer shouted back before leaning back to kiss you on the forehead, whispering “She let me into the building.”
     You put your head on Spencer’s shoulder, letting him hold you. You tried to memorize everything about the way that he felt in your arms. You didn’t want this to ever end.
     “So,” Spencer said, his voice rough, “How about that kiss now?”
     “I guess since you came all this way…” you trailed off.
     “Good,” Spencer whispered, “Because I’ve been waiting to do this since I booked the flight. Turns out I did find a good use for those miles.”
     And then his lips where on yours and you forgot how to breathe.
     In all the times you had imagined finally kissing Spencer again, nothing was as good as this. This was passionate and starved and full of all of the words you hadn’t said.
     This was different than all of the kisses you’d shared before you’d been separated, you thought.
     And then Spencer mumbled your name against your lips and you were incapable of thinking at all.
     You weren’t sure how long you stayed like this until Layla’s voice interrupted you. 
     “Hey, I’m just as happy as anyone that you’re reunited,” she said, “but please, get a room!”
     You and Spencer pulled apart, grinning like idiots. The whole room chuckled.
     Spencer pulled you to the side as Layla began rounding people up and gathering decorations.
     You caught your best friends eye and mouthed ‘thank you.’
     She just smiled and shooed your attention back towards Spencer, pulling down a streamer.
     You turned to your boyfriend. 
     “Well,” he said, “Before we get that room, want to give me a tour of the place?”
     “You’ve seen most of my apartment on FaceTime,” you told him. “What’s there to see?”
     “Some things can’t be captured over the phone,” he said, his voice becoming more serious. “Some things need to be experienced in person.”
     “Spencer, if you’re talking about the shower—” You teased, nudging his shoulder.
     But you caught his meaning entirely. And you agreed wholeheartedly.
     “Hey that shower is a piece of art! And how little you think of me,” Spencer smiled, continuing, “I was going to wait until you showed me the bathroom before I made that joke.”
     “Spencer?” You got out, through your laughter as you led him down the hall.
     “Yeah?” 
     “I love you so much.”
     “Well, I should hope so,” he shot back, “Otherwise, I spent five hours on a plane—which didn’t serve Mountain Dew, by the way—getting kicked in the back for nothing.” 
     You shook your head at him lovingly.
     “And yeah,” he finished, “I love you too. More than Mountain Dew and Project Runway.”
     You kissed him on the cheek, continuing to pull him down the hallway.
     “I meant to ask,” Spencer broke the silence, “What did you wish for?”
     “You,” you said, pausing. “I wished for you. All I want is you.”
     “I don’t want to say ditto, but I couldn’t agree more,” Spencer teased. “All I’ve ever wanted is you….and maybe one shower.”
     “Spencer!”
     “Six jets! There are six jets in there, (Y/n)! Why does nobody get this?”  
      You just giggled and ran down the hall, leaving him chasing after you. You couldn’t stop smiling. This was the best birthday you could have ever wished for. 
     You rounded the corner, Spencer still calling after you, just a few feet behind you. Right behind you. Here. Yours.
      “Six jets and a heated seat!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed my loves!! stay tuned for more spencer fics coming soon 💋🎀
also bonus text convo 🤭 —>
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Good Omens: Lockdown and Crowley not mentioning his living situation in S2*
*till S2E6 when he asks if he can have his apartment back bc he's bored of living in his car but Aziraphale doesn’t hear bc mentally he’s in Alpha Centauri.
Having read the 'Crowley doesn't tell him' Neil Gaiman ask close to when I first listened to Lockdown (I lived under a rock until recently), my initial thought was HAS HE BEEN LIVING IN HIS CAR FOR YEARS?! but I think he was still in his apartment in 2020:
as far as Hell knows, Crowley just had a pool party in holy water (the holiest) so the higher-ups are probably willing to give him some space (plus Beelzebub is busy going on pub dates w Gabriel)
while there should be ~8 months between the end of Season 1 events (The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives on Sunday, Aug 25, 2019) and the Lockdown phonecall (on or near the 30 year anniversary on May 1, 2020), I can't imagine that's a very long time for Hell, especially if you're understaffed and busy dealing with fallout from Almostgeddon / going on pub dates
Shax dropping off mail and asking about the boiler seems like something one does in the first few months of living somewhere, not ~3 years in (if S2 is in 2023)
That said, I think the phone call underlines why Crowley never directly tells Aziraphale that he is living in the Bentley in S2, and it's just a great conversation (all hail Gaiman) sooo I wrote about it:
***Note: This post analyzes the Lockdown phonecall from Crowley's perspective only. Our heroine is feeling quite emotionally vulnerable at this point in time so things are going to hit him harder than they normally would.
I do not think Aziraphale meant to cause him pain (!!) but Crowley can't see that yet and I've written this post in a way that reflects that missing insight. (I explain in more detail in this reblog if you are interested) I am working on a companion post for Aziraphale's side of this conversation and how I think it affects his behavior in S2 because if we know anything about these two, it's that their exactlys are different exactlys.***
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Crowley’s habit of sleeping to skip time like an RPG character by a campfire amuses me to no end, but in this context it feels heavy. Crowley already worries about losing time with what he loves and he probably hoped things would be different between him and Aziraphale after the events of S1. But things don’t change much. Then lockdowns start, and Crowley is trapped in his apartment alone, transcendentally bored, and unable to make his brain shut up. Sleeping a month away starts to sound less awful.
But Crowley hasn’t given up yet; he’s still awake when Aziraphale calls, and he’s even giving it two more days. Was he waiting for Aziraphale to call? Is it even possible not to at least kind of wait for someone’s call when you are cut off from everything and the caller has been your only friend and crush for millennia?
Aziraphale asks why Crowley isn't "out and about" tempting people or setting a bad example and he responds:
C: Everyone's so miserable and cooped up right now anyway, and I just… well… don't have the heart for it. A: *glowing audibly* I'm not miserable~ C: Really?
Crowley sounds genuinely surprised at Aziraphale's happiness and quickly assumes it's because the angel has been around people. He's so lonely/depressed/in his own head that he hadn't even considered someone enjoying being 'cooped up'. *sob*
Aziraphale goes No actually I put the closed sign up in the window and I'm having the Time of My Life, never had so few customers, not in 200 years!, etc. Although, he says:
A: …There were a few young lads a couple of nights ago who broke in through the back and tried to steal the cashbox! But they soon saw the error of their ways~ C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth? A: Well I certainly gave them a good talking to, and I sent each of them home with cake~ C: *annoyed, swooning* Cake? A: Quite a lot of cake, actually. C: *physically ill from having such a giant crush on this dumbass baker/security guard* eeeekkkgghhh I'm gonna regret asking but.. ...rrgh.. *30 seconds of Aziraphale joyfully describing his baking while Crowley probably tries very hard not to imagine the angel eating each item in sensual slow motion* I stg you can hear him struggling in the background once or twice
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A: …And once I've baked them, I have to eat them all myself, which was why I was so delighted— C: To send your burglars home laden with baked goods, yes, nnyeaayeah I follow…
Crowley interrupts, finishing Aziraphale's sentence in his nervous hurry to say the next bit:
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C: *loud inhale* You know, I could.. hunker down at your place. … Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle--a case of… something… drinkable…?
He's trying to sound so casual about it but this is someone who was rejected/abandoned by actual literal God after asking what he thought were welcome, uncontroversial questions. Asking makes him vulnerable. He's supposed to be the rescuer, not a demon in distress. He does not feel casual about asking.
Crowley knows it's unlikely but he's so miserable and desperate for company that he can't help but ask, just in case. Even the smallest chance of spending time trapped indoors with Aziraphale—with nothing to do but drink, watch him eat, and talk about things they'd normally avoid—is too tempting.
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A: *panicking* Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over. C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*
And just like that, Crowley doesn't need two days to decide. The depression nap doubles in length. He doesn't hear how badly Aziraphale wants to say yes behind the fear, or maybe he does and it hurts worse because why isn't Crowley enough for him? You can almost hear the spiralling:
SHOCKING, asking made it worse. It always does doesn’t it? Why even bother? you just embarrass yourself.. SLITHER over? why did I say that *grumble grumble* of COURSE His Holy Holiness, your only friend in the universe, would rather eat cake by himself while everything goes to shit than ~deign~ to have you in his presence. "AsK aND yE sHaLl ReCeIvE" bugger this for a lark im going to bed
(a bit dramatic but we've all been there)
I imagine sleep doesn't come right away. Maybe his thoughts drift to when he sat beside the angel at a dark Tadfield bus stop after a rather eventful Saturday. Crowley must've felt a tiny bit hopeful when he invited Aziraphale to stay with him: Heaven had withdrawn its favor and the bookshop was gone; Aziraphale was like him now. Didn't that mean things would change?
"I don't think my side would like that." Apparently not.
In the end, Aziraphale did ride the bus back to Crowley's apartment and stayed till the next morning when he caught a cab, but only to sell the illusion. Crowley understood that as far as sides went, the angel was still on Heaven's, even if Heaven wasn't on his.
And now this: the entire world is shut down; there is nothing for Aziraphale to do but stay in and read and bake in his magically reconstituted bookshop and he still won't invite Crowley in. Burglars and un-fallen angels only—nobody who asks questions.
So... of course Crowley doesn't tell Aziraphale when he loses his apartment. He already knows what answer he would get; the angel has told him so many times. Aziraphale is a company man first, a companion to one very sad owl when convenient.
If Crowley works up the courage to say 'please take me in, I have nowhere else to go' and Aziraphale goes 'sorry, no, far too political, but I WILL risk being erased from the Book of Life to protect this nude amnesiac former coworker who always hated me,' it's going to be too much. You can't sleep long enough for that type of hurt to go away. Better not to say anything.
"Then nothing has to change, does it?"
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