#longer more thoughtful post on this later when it's not so late and I'm not so sleep deprived lmao
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pathetic-gamer · 1 year ago
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Link in BotW:
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vs.
Link in TotK:
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verareids · 5 months ago
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feel the same - s.r. x bau!reader
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spencer misunderstands a conversation he overhears between reader and derek. tags/cws: misunderstandings, confessions of feelings, use of 'y/n', gn!reader, fluff, mild angst, derek morgan has big brother energy wc: 1708 (much longer than I thought lmao) a/n: I'm truly obsessed with season 1 spencer as of late so I HAD to write a fic with him in mind. <3
also posted on ao3
“You know Pretty Boy likes you, don’t you?”
Spencer had been trying to get some sleep on the flight back after working a case that had drained all his energy when the sound of Morgan’s voice caught his attention. Without opening his eyes, he knew exactly who he was talking to. Spencer had never outright admitted to anyone that he had developed feelings for you but it was getting harder to deny. Once Derek had started pointing out the way he’d look up when you entered a room or the way his eyes lingered as you walked away, he was becoming concerned that this crush was more obvious than he’d like it to be. 
He’s been trying to ignore it, telling himself it’s unprofessional when really it’s because he believes there’s no way you could possibly feel the same. There’s a myriad of reasons why he wished Derek would keep his big mouth shut but honestly – that was probably the biggest.
“Likes me? How old are we?” The smooth sound of your response makes Spencer smile to himself in spite of the current situation. 
“(Y/N), come on…” Derek chuckles and is immediately met with a long stretch of silence. Spencer can picture the death glare he knows he’d see on your face if he were to look at you in this moment. “Look, you know he’s never gonna ask you out himself so maybe you should just–”
“Derek.” You interrupt with an evident sternness in your tone. “I’m not having this conversation with you. I’ve told you, it’s not happening.” Ouch. Spencer had never allowed himself to dream that you would reciprocate his feelings but he definitely wishes he had been asleep for that one. With that, he forces his eyes shut tighter than before and takes in one deep, slightly shaky breath and decides to try to go back to sleep, if only so that he doesn’t have to hear you reject him even harder.
~
Spencer wakes up as the jet is landing and he quickly gathers all of his things, walking out and across the strip with much more urgency than usual. This detail doesn’t go unnoticed by you, not much does – especially where Spencer is concerned – and you make a mental note to check in with him later. He had caught your eye the first day you met him which must be, what? Half a year ago now? And he had been on your mind ever since. You had bonded quickly as friends, being the two youngest members on the team. About a month ago you had finally allowed yourself to acknowledge the fact that you had developed feelings for him. You’d sit next to him at any given opportunity, listen to his infamously long rants much longer than anyone else would, spend just a little too long staring at his lips as he talked you through his theories. It didn’t take long for people to notice. Elle had her suspicions, JJ made a comment every now and then, but Derek – he wouldn’t let it go. He teases you about it constantly. You haven’t given him the satisfaction of admitting it, you haven’t been able to deny it either.
When you eventually make your way into the building along with the rest of the team you notice that Spencer had already left. It’s only then you start to be concerned. It’s unlike him to leave in such a hurry, even more so to not even say goodbye. You rack your brain trying to come up for a reason for this strange behavior. Is he sick? Upset about something? Was it you? You begin to go over every interaction you’d had with him recently when you have to stop yourself before you spiral. He’s just tired. If it was serious he’d tell you… right?
~
The next morning you walk in to find Spencer at his desk working on the report he didn’t write last night before he had basically ran away.
“Morning, Spence!” You greet him, making an effort to sound cheerful as you lean on his desk. He doesn’t look up, like he’s trying extra hard to look busy.
“Morning, (Y/L/N).” He replies without looking up. His tone seems normal, his use of your last name is what sounds the alarms in your head.
“Hey… are you feeling alright?” You ask tentatively, not wanting to pry too much in case you really had done something wrong that you clearly weren’t aware of. “I noticed you kind of left in a hurry last night.” He finally looks up and meets your eyes, easing your nerves slightly. His eyes shift away and then back to yours before a soft smile graces his lips, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I’m okay.” He responds after a while in a way that sounds like that’s not all he wants to say. You go to reassure him, make sure he knows he can tell you anything, but stop yourself when you notice the way he tenses when you place a hand on his shoulder. Retracting your hand quickly, you begin to fidget with your fingers before running them through your hair nervously.
“Spencer… I–” You start and stop and Spencer feels a little guilty as you seem to stumble over your words anxiously. “Is it me? Did I do something? Because if I did I–”.
“(Y/N).” Spencer cuts off your panicked rambling. You take a steadying breath as he slowly rises to stand in front of you, your eyes trailing up when he towers over you. He looks around the room and sighs before focusing back on you. “Can we go somewhere to talk?” You nod and begin walking towards a storage room with Spencer following close behind, quickly checking that there's no one in there before stepping inside.
“What’s going on with you?” You break the silence as Spencer closes the door behind him. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve been acting weird.” You notice the way he dodges the question. He can’t meet your eyes anymore, his gaze shifts around the room and he smiles awkwardly at you.
“Spence, that’s not–” You interrupt yourself, trying to find a way to put your thoughts to words without overwhelming him. “I only want you to be okay. You’ve been acting differently since last night… If there’s something going on I want to be there for you.” When you say that he smiles sadly. He looks down in thought as if he’s considering something.
“I heard you talking to Morgan…” He mumbles, still staring at his feet – wringing his hands together. You furrow your brows in confusion. Talking to Morgan? “On the jet on the way home…”
“Oh.” This isn’t happening. You figure you should’ve known Derek’s relentless teasing would be your downfall. He must know you like him now. There’s a reason you never wanted him to know how you felt. You couldn’t stand the thought of anything ruining your friendship. Spencer visibly deflates even more in front of you at your lack of response. You begin scrambling to come up with a way to get out of this horrifically embarrassing situation.
“Look, I– I didn’t mean to make this awkward…” Oh god. The way he’s stuttering and tripping over his words. You stare blankly at him, then duck your head, bracing for the impact of his rejection. “It’s not like I thought you would feel the same way I just–” Wait what? Your head snaps back up to see his face, eyes widened, which seems to startle him a little. “I wasn’t going to say anything but I guess I just got really in my head about it.” He begins to look a little panicked. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I’m sorry if I did.” You just keep staring up at him, mouth agape in disbelief. “(Y/N)?” He says your name with a sad desperation and it reminds you that you should respond.
“Sorry, I–” You say slowly while shaking your head. “Are you saying that – Do you like me?” Now it’s Spencer’s turn to look confused, but it was all starting to make sense to you. You had thought he was acting weird because he had found out about your feelings, when in reality, it was the other way around.
“Yes?” He replies hesitantly.
“I like you too.” You say simply with a shy smile but Spencer looks completely taken aback. 
“You do?” The way his eyes light up with a subtle excitement was adorable. Soon after, that look was replaced with skepticism. “But I thought— you told Morgan you didn’t like me.”
“I told Morgan to stop teasing me about you because I didn’t think this…” You gesture between the two of you. “Was ever going to happen.” Spencer let out a sigh of relief and smiled bashfully.
“You could have just told me.” You feel his eyes scanning your face as if he were still looking for proof that you weren’t messing with him.
“You didn’t tell me either.”
“I thought there was no way…” You make eye contact as he trails off in thought. “I guess it doesn’t matter now.” Spencer takes a tentative step closer to you but doesn’t move to touch you in any way, so you reach out to take his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together.
“Well… maybe if we don’t have to fly out for a case today, we could go to dinner tonight?” You’re staring down at your intertwined hands, squeezing once before looking back up. When you see his face he’s still looking down with a big dopey grin on his face and you can’t help but smile right back.
“Yes— definitely.” You giggle at his obvious enthusiasm. 
You both stay in the storage room for another couple minutes, mostly just staring starry eyed at each other. Eventually you both decide that you should get back to work. You try to hide whatever was now going between you as much as you can but like always, Derek Morgan figures you out within minutes and he, along with the rest of the team, teases you relentlessly. (You wouldn’t have it any other way.)
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hkthatgffan · 18 days ago
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Hey, Kiki-Kit. Your customers are waiting!
Well, this is a painful post to make given the respect and admiration I had for her, but a long overdue one because I'm not alone in this mess and I refuse to let another fan fall for it when I could've said something!
Back in February, I bought a commission from Kiki-Kit. You may know that artist as she was one of the best in the Gravity Falls fandom back in the day and the illustrator of Don't Dimension It in Lost Legends.
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She'd been running emergency commissions at the start of the year and I got one from her for $40 USD.
I have the invoice and everything saved and also messages with Kiki of us talking about the comm and me paying her. I owe nothing on my end money wise! I paid in full.
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She said later she'd have them finished by around the end of March but come late April, still no response. So, I messaged her about it. Nothing odd I thought. I get things can happen and if Kiki is busy, at most she'd reply telling me it'll be a while longer and all's good.
But I got nothing. I messaged her, emailed her on the commissions email she had and tweeted at her. NOTHING! Turns out there were other people, including some friends of mine who had not heard back either. Then in June, Kiki made an update post explaining the situation.
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Naturally I felt bad and wished her the best. She said iirc, she'd have the remaining comms done by the end of the Summer but here we are at the end of October and still nothing. I messaged her too again and no response.
You know, it's one thing if there's a reason for no response for a few days but then another when it's been months and still nothing. Oh and btw, I very much remember Kiki on Twitter liking tweets (back when Twitter let you see liked tweets) while I was there messaging her for an update. Real sus if you ask me.
But okay, I shouldn't rush it. Everyone has reasons to take time and maybe Kiki is just very busy and can't get back. She went through a very rough and difficult experience and I can understand and respect that. I'm more than happy to wait. But how long is too long without an update? Maybe a bit longer I guess. Art takes time.
Well, IDK about you all, but I don't remember any other Gravity Falls fan artist taking oh, idk...FIVE YEARS TO FINISH A COMMISION AND STILL NOT RESPOND!!
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FoxieSkullzArtz on Twitter made me aware she has been waiting since 2019 for Kiki to respond to a commission they paid her for.
2019!!
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I'm not an artist, so forgive me if I'm wrong. But I don't think it should take any artist 5 years to make a commission and even if, at least communicate with the person who paid you about it so they're not left guessing.
Oh, and it gets worse. I got another person who let me know they've been waiting since 2020 for a comm and Kiki handled it far worse!
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Oh yeah, she blocked them for asking about it!
And okay, even if we give Kiki-Kit the benefit of the doubt and assume she has reasons to not communicate with people and maybe even assume people messaging her are being mean about it, then why not refund them? Nice or bad, you were paid by them to do something but also have the power to deny it and refund their money. And yet, Kiki did not even do that. And even if we be super kind and assume everyone is lying, I'm still here.
I paid Kiki-Kit $40USD for a comm I thought I would get in late March and it's now late October and still nothing. And even if you don't wanna believe me cause you can't believe an artist like Kiki-Kit would do this and assume I'm after clout (which would be odd, given why would I take pleasure in calling out an artist I respected)...well, there's gonna be someone else who says this too. And people have been saying this for years and she still is getting away with it!
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It's disappointing honestly. Kiki-Kit is a name so many in this fandom know and love. And I love her art too. She's a fan artist who got to be on Lost Legends. We all celebrated that in 2018 and still remember it. And I know how hard it may be to hear this, but it has to be said.
I do not like having to do this, but I have a platform that can get this message across further than others could and having been someone who lost money to her too, I know first hand what all these people have been through.
And before you say "Kiki was going through a rough time in her life. Why are you blaming her? Be patient and she'll get your stupid art done," read over everything again. I'm not saying Kiki-Kit needs to be making art 24/7 and fulfilling these comms. I'm not saying she isn't allowed to be offline and not finish things on time for reasons out of her control. What I'm saying is that she hasn't communicated properly with anyone here who paid her and has continued to accept more and more commissions from people despite not finishing ones she has backlogs of.
When an artist opens commissions, why do you think they have slots or only accept a few? Because they know they can get that many done in a certain time or know anymore will take longer. And even if it took longer, at least they give updates. I bought a commission for the interview with Alex Hirsch and got it both on time and with proper communication from the artist.
And even if you disagree with all this, be honest with yourself...is making someone wait since 2019 or 2020 for a comm and not responding to them really something still worth defending?
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I'm not here to cancel anyone. I don't want Kiki-Kit's reputation to be that of an scammer who stole money from people. But she's painted herself that way to far too many people who have been warning about this for ages but no one either saw or listened to them.
I tried to be nice and messaged Kiki-Kit over and over for an update and she never responded. I had friends who she took money from who similarly have not heard anything back! If you know Kiki directly, tell her to reach out to these people and all the ones she has taken money from and not gotten back to and either refund them or commit to finishing their commissions. Please don't be rude or hostile either though, given despite it all, she is still a person like your or me who deserves a chance to make things right.
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I wanna believe Kiki-Kit has just made some negligent mistakes and isn't the best with time management or communication. I mean, I'm not the best either. But I'm not asking people for money for something and then not getting back to them with it. I'm sorry to everyone who is learning about this who saw Kiki in a positive light and I'm sorry also to everyone like me who lost money to her.
I hope if nothing else, Kiki will respond and make whole everyone she has taken money from. If she really cares about this fandom that put her on a pedestal high enough that Alex Hirsch himself picked her to work on his book, she can respond to us and fulfill what we paid her to do.
I'm not asking for my commission to be done tomorrow...I just want an update. That's all. We all do! No more stalling, @kiki-kit. Please respond to us now!
Sincerely,
Every person who has paid you for a commission and has yet to hear back from you and every Gravity Falls fan who your work inspired and are now having to learn this about you!
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abbyandersxnswife · 29 days ago
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Look for the Light ── ᖭི༏ᖫྀ
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Canon Abby! x reader; apocalypse au!
Synopsis: You and Abby used to be best friends back in the Fireflies, but after her trip to Jackson, she makes it clear she no longer wants to be friends. If anything, she doesn't seem to even like you anymore. However, her actions keep stating otherwise...
Warnings for; Smut, switch Abby! Follows timeline of TLOU2
Word count: 3.9k
✦ ───────────────────── ✦
You didn't know Abby Anderson.
At least, not anymore.
Now she was just Issac's top Scar killer, another soldier in the WLF, another person like any other.
You arrived at Soundview Stadium a few months ago with a few other WLF soldiers, your patrol unit finally moving in after guarding a post near the Seraphites Island.
You still remembered the day you first ran into Abby again, surprised to see her returning from the lodge up in Jackson.
You didn't know how high she had climbed in the ranks with Issac then, all you knew then was that your old best friend was standing in front of you, walking with Owen and Mel- and you nearly knocked her over when you ran to give her a hug, burying your face in the crook of her neck, never so glad to smell the familiar scent of pine and vanilla. Abby had been strangely stiff, patting you awkwardly on the back like you hadn't spent nearly two years with her in the Fireflies.
Seeing her gave you hope, hope that you two could talk and make up for lost time, finally have some companionship- but that hope was quickly dashed when Abby made it clear to you that she didn't want that at all.
She had said it later on when you two were alone, your things finally unpacked in the tiny room. You had tried to ask her how she was doing, how Jackson went, if she was alright, but it all fell on deaf ears.
"Listen y/n..."
Abby had said, pausing for a moment, rubbing the back of her neck. It was as if she knew this wasn't a good idea, that the next words were words she couldn't take back.
"I don't think we should be friends, I know we used to be but that was a long time ago- I'm just not the person you used to know."
You had been hurt then, hoping she'd give you more of a reason, but Abby was silent, her once bright blue eyes cold and dim.
If Abby Anderson no longer wanted to be friends, if she wanted to pass by you in the hall like you didn't once know every detail about each other - fine.
Fine by you.
-
"Y/n?"
You opened your eyes groggily and opened the door to see Nora standing in the threshold.
"Hey, Issac wants you to report to him- says he's got the details for your latest mission"
You smiled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.
"Thanks, Nora, I'll be there in a sec"
You threw on some clothes before heading out, making your way up to Issac's office.
"Hey-"
You pushed open the door and saw Abby, Manny, and Issac already waiting for you, and felt your heart drop into your stomach at the sight of her.
"Ahhh, y/n there you are, now we can get started. A rogue group of Seraphites attacked a patrol yesterday down by the Eastbrook area- I want you guys to go in and sweep to make sure they're all gone. Bring any supplies you find back." Issac pointed to the map on the table for emphasis.
"Y/n, I know you haven't been on a mission with these two before but trust me, they're good. I can get your old crew for a different mission another time"
"No problem Issac, I can work with anyone"
"Great," Issac said before continuing, "When you return, we'll start drafting our plans to invade the Seraphites' Island, we can take the boats and see if we can defeat them on home territory."
Your gaze immediately darted to Abby, wondering what she thought of the news, but she only stared stubbornly ahead.
"Grab something to eat and then head out, take the truck, Manny."
"Alright, let's go guys"
Manny left, and you watched Abby leave as well, trailing behind them, sighing inwardly at the day ahead of you. Today's mission was gonna be a long one.
-
"The Seraphites have been growing bold lately"
Manny broke the silence, seemingly oblivious to the tension that lay between you and Abby.
The back of the truck was snug, Manny and Abby on one side, you on the other. Abby was looking anywhere but your face it seemed, and you sat there quietly, pretending like you weren't sneaking glances whenever you got the chance. After all, this was the closest you had been to her in years.
To be fair, you both equally avoided each other at base- she didn't want anything to do with you, so why would you bother with her?
"Yeah well they broke the treaty, if any of them are at Eastbrook we wipe the site and leave"
The air is chilly when you step out, you adjust your jacket and flip the safety off your gun.
"School looks deserted, but best if we just do a patrol of the site just to be sure. Abby, go with her, patrol the inside, I'll do a grounds check first"
Manny walks off, gun in hand, already entering an old school bus parked in front of the school.
"Come on" Abby says, and you follow her as she prys open the front door.
The interior of the school is a mess, the wallpaper of the walls peeling, desks pushed half hazardly into the hall. Sad shreds of streamers hang from the ceiling, every window smashed, the shards glistening on the floor.
You enter a classroom, pushing the door open with your gun.
Your eyes light up at the greenery inside, the schooldesks covered in a bed of moss, ivy hanging from holes in the ceiling.
"It's beautiful-" You say to yourself, bending down to pick up the remainders of the kids' drawings on the ground. You examine one, it's a picture of a house with what looks to be a horse-
"Can you stay focused? We're supposed to be looking for supplies"
Abby's voice cuts sharply through the silence, the only sound the rifling she's causing by searching through the desks.
You sigh and help her, retrieving a roll of bandages and a few packs of old batteries before moving onto the next room.
Abby finds the cafeteria at the end of the hall, and the old shelves of the cafeteria pantry prove to be quite sparse, with nothing but some old bean cans that Abby takes anyway. She's still acting like you don't exist, so you've got a whole lot of time to examine your surroundings.
You hear a creak while searching through the cupboards and pause, listening for footsteps.
"Do you mind moving a little quicker? Maybe your old patrol did things slower, but I'd like to get back to base sometime soo-"
"Shut up!" You whisper harshly, cutting her off.
Abby looks offended, finally training her gaze on yours, but your eyes dart away to the doors of the cafeteria.
"What?"
Abby asks, watching you.
You hear it again, a second creak. You push Abby up against the wall by the lapels of her jacket, her blue eyes wide with surprise. Her gaze darts down to your lips for a second before her arms come up to pull yours off.
"Woah y/n- what are you-"
A loud bang interrupts Abby's next words, the double wooden doors of the cafeteria slamming open as five Seraphites rush in.
"Seraphites!" You yell, dragging Abby down with you to avoid the gunfire.
Abby breaks out of your hold, punching the nearest Seraphite in the face as you shoot the second. The third Seraphite comes running at you, tackling you to the ground, slamming your wrist against the concrete floor. A sharp pain runs through your arm, and you watch as he kicks your gun out of reach. You grapple on the floor together, kicking as he attempts to strangle you, worried about Abby- before a loud gunshot rings out and the Seraphite's body slumps over you.
Abby stands over you, one hand extended. You take it.
The other two Seraphites lay dead on the ground, bodies riddled with bullets. You brush yourself off, but the ache in your arm is making itself more evident.
"Thanks"
Abby hands you your gun but her brows furrow at the way you cradle your left arm gingerly.
"Are you okay?" She asks.
You feign nonchalance as best you can.
"Yeah.. but my arm might not be"
Abby hesitates for a moment, but reaches out and examines your arm. Her touch is soft, a strange contrast to the stoic way she's been acting this whole mission.
"I think medical should check you out" Abby says, clearing her throat. "Come on we should head back to the truck."
Abby steps back and pushes open the doors. You follow her out.
-
Medical let you go with a brace for the minor fraction on your left arm. You felt miserable, first mission back in the field and injured- you wouldn't be cleared to go on another for at least another few weeks.
You sat slumped against a bookshelf in the library, half hazardly reading "City of Thieves" by David Benioff, ignoring the dull ache in your arm. You'd been doing this for at least a week now, hiding out from prying eyes.
"Y/n?"
Your eyebrows raised at the sound of Abby's voice, and even further when she came over, standing awkwardly in front of you.
"How's your arm?"
Abby asked, shifting her weight from foot to foot.
"It's fine, I guess," You replied. "Just reading to pass the time. Medical ordered I "take it easy" for the next two weeks." You rolled your eyes at the last part. The corners of Abby's mouth twitched, as if she was holding back a smile, but you were sure it was a trick of the light.
"That sucks.. what are you reading?"
Much to your surprise, Abby sat down next to you, one muscular arm reaching over your lap to grab your book.
"Hey, City of the Thieves? I'm reading this one right now- no spoilers"
She held up a finger in warning, and you smiled at her attempt to joke.
"Yeah, yeah" You waved her away.
A beat of silence stretches between you, and you work up the courage to break it.
"So.. what did you come here for? We both know it wasn't just to talk about books"
"I.." Abby looked at the floor, picking at the fabric below. "I wanted to apologize for what I said a few months ago.. and how I've been treating you ever since. I'm sorry"
Abby stops to look up at you, and you take the opportunity to study her. Her cheekbones are a little sharper. There's a healing cut across her cheek that hadn't been there before. Her rosy cheeks, full lips, and clear blue eyes- they're the same.
She's still your Abby, somewhere.
But the hurt you felt then, the lack of company you've had, the loneliness you've felt? It's also there, somewhere.
"Why'd you do it then?"
You ask, and Abby's eyes drop back to the floor. She's silent for so long you're sure she's going to just leave, but she answers.
"I thought I'd feel better after I found the guy who killed my dad in Jackson... but, I don't."
You inhale at her admission, eyes searching for hers as she meets your gaze. The softness she finds in yours prompt her to press on,
"I feel like nothing makes me happy anymore, I still wake up every night from reoccuring nightmares about him- and I've pushed a lot of people away because of how angry I feel. Angry that he's left me, angry that killing the one guy I trained for 4 years to fight to avenge him didn't make me feel better, angry that I've fucked up in every relationship with anyone I care about because of it-"
Abby runs her hands through her hair, smoothing down the stray strands of hair in her braid.
"Y/n, I pushed you away because I care about you. I was being fucking stupid back then- and every time after. I wanted to be near you so much but I felt like I didn't deserve it. I'm not a good person. You deserve someone better than me"
Abby hung her head and stood up, ready to accept whatever you had to say.
"That's up to me to decide Abs."
You said softly, and Abby looked up in surprise. She felt both shock and happiness when you hugged her, and for a second she stood still. Was she allowed to have this? To have you, even for a moment?
Abby hesitated for a moment, before burying her face in your hair, pressing you closer to her.
She never wanted to lose you again.
-
The next few weeks passed by in a blur, your arm healing up just fine. You and Abby spent a lot of time together- eating together in mess hall, going for walks around the crop fields- she helped keep your mind off the itch you felt to get back out.
Lately though, Abby had been acting a little strange, spending more time in the gym, off walking Alice or talking to Manny more than she usually did. You assumed it was nothing though, after all, what else could it be?
"Did you hear? Issac's gonna do a large-scale attack on the Seraphites Island, Manny and Abby got instructed to lead the assault with their chosen squads."
You overhear Nora talking to Mel on your way to mess hall, and your eyebrows furrow. You remember Issac talking about invading the Seraphites back when, but Abby hasn't mentioned it to you at all. Before you have more time to think about it further, Abby arrives and hands you a still warm burrito.
"Hey y/n, brought you breakfast"
Abby smiles at you, and you smile back despite the worry at the back of your mind. She would tell you, wouldn't she?
"Wanna go for a walk?" Abby asks, but you shake your head. You're due for a visit to Medical- you hadn't been needing your arm brace and was sure that with a medical note Issac would dispatch you to assignments again.
The Medical Bay turned out to be quite empty, so you're out with the note clutched in your hand in no time.
You head up to Issac's, past the cells holding Seraphites, and knocked politely on the interrogation door. Issac emerged a dew seconds later.
"Y/n? Oh, a medical note"
While Issac read, you inquired about the rumor you'd heard at breakfast, trying your best to seem casual.
"Abby and Manny are leading the squads in the assault on Seraphites Island right? Would I be able to join them?"
Issac looked surprised,
"You'd have to ask them, they get first pick of who they'd like, then I'll form the rest of the squadrons. Why don't you talk to Abby? I'm surprised she didn't ask you already, I told her about it weeks ago."
Issac's words ring in your ears as you make your way down to Abby's room. You knock on her door for a second before you burst in.
Abby's shirt is off, her dark grey tank laid out on the bed. She's in the middle of drying her wet hair when she sees you come in. You can't help but stare- at her abs, at her white bra, at her unbuttoned dark green cargo pants- and ignore the flutter in your stomach.
You wrench your gaze away.
"Y/n?! What's wrong?"
Abby moves towards you, but you put a hand out. Her cheeks flush when she realizes what she's wearing, or the lack thereof, and bends down to grab her shirt.
"I got cleared from Medical! And uh.. Issac told me you and Manny are leading squads for the invasion against the Seraphites?"
You say, addressing the ceiling.
"Oh.." Abby says, trailing off. She slips on her tank top, stalling.
"I.. I only just found out," Abby lies, "I haven't decided who I want for the squadron yet-"
"You just found out?" You say, angry at her blatant lie. "Don't lie, I know Issac asked you weeks ago"
Abby's tone is defensive,
"Did you ask him behind my back?"
"When were you planning to tell me?" You shoot back, "Were you planning to tell me?"
Abby backtracks at your words, rambling. Her hands raise, like she's guilty of a crime.
"I was- I swear I was, I would have asked you to be on the squadron but your arm was still healing and-"
"Why didn't you just tell me? Forget picking me to be on your squadron, I don't care about that- were you just gonna leave and not tell me? Let me wonder if you fucking died or not?"
Abby's eyebrows raise in alarm, realizing her misstep at identifying what was making you so upset. She sits down, wiping her sweaty hands on her cargos.
"No- y/n, I promise I would have told you, I just didn't want to ruin the peace we were building- and honestly I'm sure I'll be fine, I've done tons of patrols-"
You shake your head-
"Be honest. This is just another way of pushing me away, isn't it? Have you been having nightmares again? Why can't you just be honest with me, what's going on?"
Abby's face breaks, the flicker of conflicting emotions clear to you for a moment. She warrs against touching you, but loses the internal battle. She pulls you closer to her position sitting on the edge of the bed, hands caressing the back of your thighs, unsure of if it's reassuring you or her.
"The nightmares... they never stopped." Abby takes a breath before continuing, "And.. Owen's missing, his patrol partner Danny was found dead," Abby explains, "I keep pushing you away because it hurts that I might lose you. What if Owen's dead? What if that was you next? I don't want to lose you."
Your eyes soften at her words,
"Abs, I'm sure Issac's got people out looking for Owen... and you won't lose me. I may not be as seasoned as you are, but I held my own just fine at the Seraphite outpost for months. Besides, if I go with you, you'll be there to watch my back."
You reach out and cradle her face, stepping a little closer, now stood directly between her legs.
Abby hugged you around the waist, hiding her face in your sweater, voice a little muffled.
"Issac said Owen is a traitor- that he killed Danny to protect.. a Seraphite. I told him it wasn't true, that there was no way he'd do that, that if I could just look for him I'd bring him back- but Issac refused. He wouldn't let me look for him."
Abby looks up at you, a mixture of grief and worry plain on her face. A stray tear rolls down her cheek and you brush it away.
"You're all I have left y/n." Abby whispers.
You crumble like putty in her hands, biting your plush lip as you look at her. Abby felt like she was going to explode.
This whole time, Abby's thought the way she felt about you was one-sided. Even when she was busy pretending to no longer care about you, even when she was staring straight head walking past you in the halls, even that damn school during your first mission together- a bit of her always longed for you.
She had tried to chalk it up to the fact she missed her best friend over the years, that she had a stupid girl crush in her teens, but these past few weeks only served to prove her wrong.
So, when you lean into her, Abby can't resist. She feels like she's lost everything- her dad, Owen- and you're all she has left. Can anyone blame her for acting on what she wants, just once?
Abby pulls you into her lap just as your lips crash into hers, both of you reaching for the other.
Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you kiss Abby, her large hands gently pressing you closer at the small of your back, and your hands tangle in her hair.
You can't get enough of her, hands pulling up her shirt, running your fingertips over her midriff as she shivers at your touch.
"Y/n? We don't have to do anything if you don't want to-"
You cut Abby off with a firm kiss as you push her over.
"Abs, I want to. I want you"
Abby grins at your words, and pulls you down into her for another kiss. Her hands guide your hips as you grind down on her, moaning into her mouth.
Abby thinks this is the closest she'll get to heaven, and flips you both over, her body pressed up against yours.
"I'm glad- I've wanted you for so long" Abby says, kissing down your neck, moving your shirt aside for easier access. You moan as she leaves hickies on your chest, her hands already undoing your pants, fingers dipping down into you.
"Oh baby, you're so wet for me"
Abby's voice is huskier than you've ever heard it, and you feel yourself get even wetter at her words. She rubs your clit with her thumb as she slips two fingers in, fucking you at a quick pace.
"Abs-" You choke out, hands reaching for her.
Abby smiles, love clear on her face.
"You sound so pretty y/n"
You pull at Abby's hair and she sucks at your nipples as she fucks you. You're sure there will be hickies all your neck come tomorrow.
"Fuck, Abs I'm gonna-"
"Come for me"
You come, shaking in her arms. Abby sucks her fingers clean, grinning at the brilliant shade of red you turn in response. You pull her in for another kiss before murmuring,
"Your turn"
Abby sheds her cargos, climbing back onto the bed. You slide your fingers through her wet folds, eliciting a sigh from her as you sink two fingers in, curling them to hit her gspot. You're maintaining a regular pace when Abby speaks up,
"That feels so good- but can you add another?"
You blink, but smirk as you obey her request. You speed up your pace, three fingers disappearing in her dripping cunt quickly, Abby's whimpers growing louder with every thrust.
"Fuck- y/n, I'm gonna come-"
Abby whimpers as she comes, growing tight around your fingers as she grips the headboard above your head.
You smile at her, sucking your fingers as payback for her earlier stunt, and she just laughs, rich and warm.
"I'm glad we both feel the same way about each other" Abby says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
"I think we always have" You admit, hands cradling her face before drawing her in for another kiss. Abby's eyes are relaxed, her grin wide. You continue, smiling softly-
"You won't lose me, Abs. You never have, and you never will."
✦ ─────────────────────────── ✦
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moonlight-prose · 21 days ago
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nameless as a river undiscovered underground
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a/n: i really wish october could last longer than a few weeks, because i simply want to keep writing spooky stories and logan fics. i keep posting them late, but i'm doing them last minute (bad i know). this one is more a drabble than a fic, but i loved the idea of logan and his leather jacket. especially the thought of him loving you wearing it.
logan promptober: day eighteen - leather jacket
summary: his leather jacket remained a tie between your love and his. the weight of it, the smell of your intertwined scents, all revolved around a relationship he never thought would happen.
word count: 1.2k+
pairing: logan howlett x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY!!, p in v sex, reverence, love, fluff, the soft vibes of logan being in love.
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You were clad in his leather jacket—swallowed by the heaviness of it—the first time he kissed you. In the rain a mile out from the mansion, beside a broken down car and cell phones that wouldn't work. He'd never seen true beauty until you smiled at him. Drenched to the bone, laughing, and luminant in the dark of a night gone wrong.
At one point in the past, he swore to himself he was safer never falling down that unknown pit. That heart devouring thing that made his insides twist and heart turn inside out. It terrified him. Knowing he could one day lose it all in the blink of an eye—become a shell of himself without the presence of another. Solitude kept him safe, kept him from causing destruction to innocent people hell bent on showing him love.
But then he kissed you.
Mid laughter, with eyes still alight in that angelic glow, Logan Howlett put his heart on the line and pressed his lips to yours. The rain pelted your faces in a cold icy wave of brutal weather. Yet neither of you cared. You dug your hands into his hair matted down with too much water and dragged him close enough to give life to that ache in his chest.
You kissed him without conviction. Instead putting your faith—your entire being—on the steady beat of your heart that echoed loudly in his head. The heat of your mouth, the wet slide of your tongue, killed him on the spot. He was a dead man walking—a corpse without a soul.
All because you decided to steal it away with a grin before kissing him once again.
The leather jacket became a comfort in your relationship with a man who ran hotter than a radiator. He didn't need the heavy weight of it, but he liked it. The color, the detailing, the story encased in the frayed thread that lined the insides.
You still remember discovering the small polaroid kept in the inside pocket, tucked away from sight yet pressed to his heart. It was you. Dressed up for the very first time. Storm took the photo on a whim, Logan stole it from her study two days later. You'd later ask him about the messy heart drawn on the bottom white strip—a scribble of the word sweetheart placed underneath.
He turned fifty shades of crimson the second you brought it up, but the photo still remained in place. Stuck to his body whenever he wore his jacket—a familiar piece of his heart whenever you wore it instead.
Tradition was embedded in the stolen item of clothing. The way he draped it over your shoulders on nights out, the times he spent bundling you up when you conveniently forgot your own sweater in his bedroom. You'd burrow your face in the collar, breathing in the musk of his cigars. He'd drop his head against his shoulder at the fragrant scent of your perfume still stuck to the lining.
Each of you placed your mark on the fabric, intent on leaving small reminders of who wore it last. But his favorite memory still remained in the pocket that still held a little rip on the outer edge—the time he clawed at it to grasp you close until the audible echo of destruction turned pain into laughter.
"You're gonna be the fuckin' death of me," he grunted, fingers sharply pressed into the bare skin of your hips.
You smiled, half lidded eyes glazed over in a cloud of darkened lust. "I thought the Wolverine couldn't be killed."
"That wasn't for you to test."
"Can't say you don't like me like this baby," you sighed, leaning back against the kitchen table placed in your very own house.
A home shared with him.
The cracked groan brought satisfaction right to the top of your chest—love beating its own drum in the depths of your body. Logan came home early to a welcome surprise of you in his jacket...and nothing else on. The plan was to get dinner, go walk the city to find a bit of romance tucked away in the corners of cafes and the lowlights of bars.
Neither of you made it to the car.
"It'll smell like you," he gasped, dragging his cock through your dripping cunt. The head nudging against your clit with each stroke. "I'll smell like you."
"Logan–" You clawed at his shoulders, lifting your hips in the hopes of enticing him to move. To put you out of your misery and slide home.
"It'll drive me crazy." A messy kiss overflowing with the love you felt flicker to life in your chest was pressed to your lips. Messy and needy and filled with the soft moan of his gravelly voice.
You sucked his tongue into your mouth, grinning at the brittle sound that cracked at the base of his throat. "Now you know how I feel."
Sinking into you felt like home. The hot slick grip of your walls clamping down around his cock broke something in the back of his mind. A wire that connected common sense with intellect. He watched it unravel before his very eyes—your lips coated in his spit curling into a grin. A smile that left him breathless and begging for more.
You were rapturous. The embodiment of what he believed hope looked like; the light at the end of his cracked and unstable road.
"So fuckin' pretty," he muttered, his eyes flickering between where he thrusted into you and your breasts covered by his jacket. "Should dress like this all the damn time."
"I'd get cold," you laughed, slinging an arm around his neck.
"You got me to keep you warm."
A harsh thrust sent you higher up on the table, pulling free a high pitched moan that sunk into his skin with a warmth that bloomed towards his chest. He wanted to pour out each emotion and watch you drink it down like the ichor of the gods. The life he led before suddenly felt as if there was a purpose to all the suffering he endured—all the pain that still lingered in phantom wounds long since healed.
You were the purpose he sought.
The person he was always meant to find.
He'd do it all over again if given the choice as long as you were there waiting for him—holding out a hand to bring him home.
You came with a garbled shout of his name, your walls sucking his cock back into you to keep him close. Each stunted thrust lit a fire in his body, his hands gripping any bare part of you he could reach as you fell back against the table. Your eyes glazed over and your mouth parted in a silent scream.
A few more sharp thrusts and he followed you quicker than he expected—practically toppling onto your body as he fucked his cum deep. Enough to have it spilling out and coating the inside of your thighs. He was half tempted to drop to his knees and clean you up, but the tight grip you had on his shoulders kept him in place. The close proximity of his body all you craved in the rolling aftershocks of your orgasm.
"All mine?" you whispered, still gasping for breath.
He smiled, lips brushing across yours. "All yours sweetheart."
This was how he loved you.
Thoroughly, harshly, yet with every part of his being.
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propertyofwicked · 5 months ago
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DIAL DRUNK - LN
summary - lando had always been her rock, her best friend whose laughter brightened her darkest days. but when she drifted away after starting a new relationship, lando was left confused and heartbroken, eventually discovering the painful truth of her struggles and the depths of his unwavering loyalty.
warnings - mention of toxic + somewhat abusive boyfriend (not lando), fighting, alcohol - happy ending (cos im not mean)
please stay safe and dont read this if any of these warnings will effect you! i will be back with a new post soon! look after yourselves <3
✧ my inbox is open ✧
masterlist the playlist
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lando norris had always been the light in her life, the best friend who made everything better with his infectious laughter and unwavering support. their bond was unbreakable, or so he thought. but when she started dating her new boyfriend, everything changed. she stopped answering his calls, missed their regular meet-ups, and slowly drifted away. everyone was surprised when she stopped showing up to races, or when she no longer appeared on lando’s instagram - both in pictures and the comments.
lando was confused and hurt, but he respected her decision, believing she was simply busy with her new relationship. and even if he only heard from her when she sent a text to congratulate him on a race result, he was just happy she was still supporting him from wherever she was.
the first time she hadn’t attended one of his races, he had texted her afterward, "missed you this weekend, hope everything's okay." her reply came hours later: "sorry, got caught up with something. next time for sure." but there was no next time. race after race, her absence was palpable.
the missed calls were harder to ignore. at first, she would call back with an excuse. "sorry, my phone was on silent," or "i was out with friends, lost track of time." but soon, she stopped calling back altogether. lando's messages grew more worried, but he tried to keep them light. "everything alright? feels like we haven't talked in ages." the responses were always brief, vague, and unsatisfying. "yeah, just busy. talk soon."
then came the day he saw a picture of her and her boyfriend on social media. they looked happy, but something about her smile seemed off. forced. he left a comment, something friendly and supportive, but she didn't reply. she didn't even like the comment. lando felt a knot in his stomach. something was wrong, but he didn't know what, and she wasn't letting him in.
the isolation gnawed at him. he missed their late-night conversations, the way they would laugh until their sides hurt. he missed her being the first person he called with good news, and the one who would cheer him up when things didn't go as planned. it was like a piece of his life had gone missing, and he had no idea how to get it back.
one night, after a particularly tough race, lando found himself dialling her number, despite knowing she probably wouldn't answer. the phone rang and rang, and just as he was about to hang up, she picked up. her voice was a whisper.
"lando, i can't talk right now."
"what's going on?" he asked, his voice breaking. "why are you shutting me out?"
there was a long pause. he could hear her breathing, could almost feel the weight of whatever she was struggling with.
"it's... complicated," she finally said. "i'm sorry."
"complicated how?" he pressed.
"i can't," she whispered. "i'm sorry." and then she hung up.
lando stared at his phone, feeling more lost and helpless than ever. what had happened to her? why was she pushing him away? he couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong, but without her willing to talk, he had no way to help her.
the texts and calls grew less frequent. she stopped liking his posts, stopped commenting on his photos. it was like she had disappeared from his life entirely. the only sign he had that she was still out there were the occasional texts after a race, short messages of congratulations that felt hollow and distant.
each time his phone buzzed with one of those messages, it was a bittersweet moment. he was glad she still cared enough to reach out, but the emptiness of her words was a constant reminder of how far apart they had drifted. he missed her more than he could put into words, and the pain of her absence was a constant ache in his chest.
he truly didn’t expect to see her that night, especially not stood at the bar of a busy club that he and max had gone to, and not stood alone.
“y/n hey!” he called out, approaching her quickly and taking her in a quick embrace as he tried desperately to ignore the way she flinches and stiffened her posture.
“hi!” she replied, smiling at him nonetheless.
“how have you been? i feel like i haven’t seen you in a while.”
“i’m ok - how are you? still reeling from your first win?” she replied again, her posture softening as the bar tender handed her a glass of white wine. again, lando tried to ignore how different this was - he’d never seen her drink anything other than a malibu coke when they went out.
“i guess you could say that,” he responded happily, though not without noticing how different she looked - the was smaller, and her natural smile was gone, replaced with this horrid fake grin he had only seen on a handful of occasions, “who are you here with?”
“oh! i came with mich-”
“michael. and you are..?”
the voice had interrupted her, and her shoulders peaked up in anxiety once more as her boyfriend stood behind her, his frame towering hers slightly. he had his hand stuck out, in attempt to greet lando as if he had no idea who he was. he did. in fact, lando was a sore spot in his and y/n’s relationship.
“lando,” he replied, though neglecting to shake his hand, “i’ll leave you to it. come say hi before you leave,” he added, before turning swiftly on his heel to re-join max and a few others of their friends who had joined.
and as his drinks kept flowing, so did his thoughts. lando’s eyes were drawn to the table she sat on, looking out of place surrounded by michael and his friends. this wasn’t the y/n he knew, but he feared this was the new her, the her who was no longer his friend, no longer the girl that would spend hours with him doing everything and nothing at the same time.
lando wasn’t quite sure how drunk he was, not until he was stumbling to and from the bathroom, his vision clouded but not enough to distract him from the fact that y/n and michael had left their booth, and yet he wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t come to say goodbye. he himself thought it best to call it a night and head back to the comfort of his flat.
but then he saw them. she was arguing with her boyfriend, tears streaming down her face as michael was yelling, his grip on her arm tight and aggressive.
"you've had a face like a slapped arse all night," he snarled, his voice low but seething with anger. "you refuse to enjoy yourself unless it's your idea. you're so selfish."
"i'm not," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "i just... i don't feel comfortable here."
"oh, really? you never feel comfortable anywhere unless you're in control," michael spat, shaking her slightly. "you ruin everything."
"that's not true," she sobbed, trying to pull away. "please, michael, just let me go."
"no, we're going to sort this out right now," he growled, his grip tightening.
lando's heart pounded with a mixture of rage and concern, quickly finding himself pushing the door to the club open, barely allowing the cold night air to engulf him before he was striding over to the couple.
"hey, let her go!" lando demanded, stepping between them.
"this is none of your business," michael sneered, not loosening his grip.
"it is when you're hurting her," lando shot back, his voice steady but eyes blazing with anger. he could see the fear in her eyes, and it broke his heart.
"lando, please," she whispered, her voice trembling. "just go."
"i'm not leaving you with him," lando said firmly. "not like this."
“leave it, lando. i’m fine, i promise,” she continued shakily.
“oh yeah - defend him. as per fucking usual y/n,” michael yelled once more, letting go of his grip on her arm to push her back, the two men watching as she stumbled, almost losing her footing. lando stepped quickly, grabbing her waist softly, but enough to steady her once more.
“you ok?” he whispered to her, waiting for her to nod quickly at him then spinning around to face her boyfriend once more. before he could open his mouth to speak, michael’s fist was swiftly approaching lando’s face, to which he only missed slightly - only briefly making contact with his cheek as lando dodged the hit.
“right. so that’s how we’re playing this? cool,” lando announced, no longer trying to keep his calmness at the forefront of his mind as he raised his own fist, landing a punch square to the man’s face, driven by a protective instinct, months of pent-up frustration, and, quite potentially, the alcohol streaming through him. someone called the police, and before lando knew it, he was being pulled away, handcuffed and led to a police car.
“sir - your emergency contact is still not answering our calls - is there anyone else you’d like us to call?”
lando's heart sank, feeling like he had truly lost her.
“who did michael call as his emergency contact?” lando asked the officer, ignoring his previous question.
“we can’t disclose that information,” the officer responded with a sigh, but looked around the room quickly before adding a hushed, “it wasn’t her. if that helps.”
lando nodded at him quickly, trying to think of anyone who could come and pick him up from the station.
“try my friend max - his number should be in my phone somewhere,” lando told him to which the officer turned to go and retrieve his phone from evidence having not needed it before as he remembered y/n’s number like it was his own name. as the officer handed him his phone, he hesitated.
“listen,” he began softly, “someone who won’t even pick up the phone... are they really worth a potential assault charge?”
lando felt a surge of anger mixed with a deep sadness. “yes, she is. or at least, the version of her that i knew was worth it,” he said firmly. “she’s been through a lot. it’s not her fault.”
any rational person would not be defending someone who had ghosted them for months on end. he was overwhelmed, sad, angry - but rational? he was far from it right now.
the officer nodded, seeing the determination in lando’s eyes. “alright, i hope things work out for you both.”
“mr norris? your ride is here,” a new officer announced an hour later, handing lando a bag of his personal belongings before sending him through the door. stood face to face with max in a police station was not his idea of a nice night out.
“come on, mate. let’s get you home,” max said, smiling sadly at him as he led them to his car, “so, when’s the court date?”
“there isn’t one, luckily,” lando told him, buckling himself in and leaning into the seat in exhaustion, “injuries weren’t severe enough and he didn’t want to press charges.”
“lucky, indeed,” max hummed, “can i ask why?”
“you can ask. do i have to answer?”
“no, i guess not.”
“good.”
the car ride was silent from then on until they arrived at lando’s building, bidding each other goodbye quickly, before parting ways. lando swore the elevator was slower at 3am as he returned to his apartment, exhausted and disheartened.
as he approached his door, he saw her sitting on the door matt, her makeup ruined by tears. she looked up, eyes filled with sorrow and regret.
"lando," she choked out, standing up. lando didn't say anything at first, shocked that she was really here. he just pulled her into a tight hug, holding her as she sobbed against his chest.
"it's okay," he whispered. "i'm just glad you're here now."
they stood there for a long time, wrapped in each other's arms. finally, she pulled back, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes.
"i'm so sorry,” she started again, pushing through her tears, “does it hurt?” she asked him, her fingers running softly over the slight bruising that dusted his cheeks.
“oh this? this is nothing - you should see the other guy,” he joked, trying to ignore his own pain, desperate to see her smile.
“i don’t think i want to see the other guy ever again,” she replied remorsefully.
“why did you do it, y/n? why did you disappear? why did you change?”
“i-i didn’t mean to. i didn’t want to lando, really. i didn’t,” she defended, “but he would just get so jealous, so angry, any time i spoke to you, or about you. he would say things. about me. about you. things that hurt. and i just kept thinking that maybe it would get better. maybe it would stop.”
“but it didn’t,” lando added for her, trailing off slightly. she didn’t respond verbally, rather, she merely nodded at him.
“oh y/n,” he sympathised, “you should’ve said, i could’ve done something. anything.”
“i just- i thought he liked me y’know. i thought maybe after a while he’d come around. and then he would guilt me into missing your races, or delete your messages from my phone. i never meant to ignore you lan, i promise,” she sighed, tears still cascading down her face, “can you ever forgive me?"
"there's nothing to forgive," lando said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face, "you were in a tough situation. i'm just sorry i couldn't help you. god knows i would do anything to help you, angel."
she nodded, tears still falling, but there was a small, hopeful smile on her lips. "thank you, lando. for everything."
“come on, you want a cuppa?”
“always.”
“there she is,” he smiled at her widely, “there’s the y/n i know.”
the two shuffled inside, and lando made her a cup of tea just like old times. they talked for hours, about everything and nothing until any awkwardness from their separation dissipated into the night, until the sun began to rise. the start of a new day.
"i missed you," she whispered, her head resting on his shoulder as they sat together on the sofa, their skin illuminated by the orange tinge of sun peaking through the large windows.
"i missed you too," lando replied, gently kissing the top of her head. "and i'm never letting anything come between us again."
“tell me about miami,” she asked after a few moments of silence.
“ive already told you 3 times tonight.”
“i know, but i want to hear it again,” she whined, “i’ll never forgive myself for not being there.”
she smiled as he began to talk again, feeling safe and loved for the first time in a long while. they stayed like that, wrapped in each other's presence, knowing that whatever came next, they would face it together.
1K notes · View notes
niningtori · 6 months ago
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make you cry | part two: beomgyu's ending
part one | part three: hyuka's ending
pairing: choi beomgyu x you
summary: after your feelings for beomgyu are revealed, you take some time to heal from your "breakup". as for beomgyu, he's realizing just how important you are to him, but it may be too little too late.
genre: romance, angst, smut (MDNI), fwb
warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, creampie, sub!gyu, oral (f. rec), dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise, degradation (m. rec), if i missed anything lmk
word count: 3.4k
notes: hello again friends! am i satisfied with this? no. am i still posting it? YES. as you may know, there will be an alternate ending with hyuka as the lead. i will probably post that on my bday (the 24th). until then, i hope you enjoy this! and again.. pls don't be mean ;_; i'm still new to writing smut and this is not proofread
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it’s almost been a year since the night you said goodbye to beomgyu. time has healed most things, but your rage certainly helped speed it along. throwing away old polaroids beomgyu took of the both of you, past birthday cards he wrote when he was feeling particularly sentimental, and clothes he had forgotten to take home with him most definitely aided your catharsis, even if you did it all in the midst of a rampage. do you regret it now that you’re relatively calm? maybe a little bit, but not having reminders of beomgyu around your home outweighs any sliver of regret you may or may not harbor. traces of him fade from your body first, then your mind, then your heart. you still sort of miss him, that much is clear, but when you really think about it, you’re not sure why that is. so you try not to think about it at all.
you're doing okay now, truly. it's not like you forgive him or anything, but you're not as angry as you used to be, which, you know, is better than nothing. you regret sleeping with him, regret not speaking up for yourself sooner, even regret taking his hand when he held it in front of you all those years ago, but you're starting to realize that it doesn't matter anymore. what's done is done, no use crying over it any longer. as for everything beomgyu did to you, he did it and he meant it. fuck whatever explanations he has. 
on beomgyu’s end, it's not like he hasn't tried to contact you, but that only resulted in you blocking him on every conceivable plane. he convinced one of his friends to give him his instagram login so he can see your posts, but that’s about all he has to go off of these days. from the looks of it, it seems like you’re doing pretty well on your own. your friendship with kai seems to have strengthened because you’re calling him your best friend now, and who knows if you’re fucking each other. the jealousy he feels is all-consuming. to be honest, beomgyu knows he wasn’t the best of friends towards you, even before the hooking up, but he still feels wronged somehow. he’s thought, in great detail, about how he would act if the roles were reversed, but that only makes him feel worse. because he’d forgive you. he’d be angry for a while, this much he knows, but he’d always forgive you. you are, or were, his best friend, after all. and maybe even something more, but he doesn’t want to think about that. 
he’s shown up at your apartment, too. especially while drunk. sometimes, it’s because he misses you. most times, it’s because he’s so drunk it feels like the only place that feels like home. you never open the door, though. he likes to think it’s because you’re not there, but after the fifth time, he knows better. 
-
well, it had to happen sooner or later. your town is only so big and your friend circle is so small, of course running into beomgyu was not a matter of if, but when. even still, he looks positively shocked to see you at the house party of one of kai’s friends. as soon as you lock eyes with him, you know you’re in for it. you should leave, and you really, really would, but it’s a birthday party and kai’s your designated driver. you’d make him look bad if you left so soon, so you decide the best course of action is to get drunk so your head stops hurting. after downing some drinks, you carefully avoid beomgyu and make your way to some random bedroom just to cool off. 
you’re a few drinks in, head buzzing and tongue feeling heavy. it was bitter work, but each shot had you feeling less and less suffocated by beomgyu’s presence. you wish you didn’t care as much as you do, but the feeling is still there. seeing him should spark nothing in you, but you can’t help but feel indignant. and honestly? a little sad, too. things have gotten better, but all the old feelings have been dredged up with a vengeance. 
while you’re trying not to think about him, as if on cue, beomgyu bursts through the door. 
“h-hi,” he says hesitantly. really? that’s it? hi?
“uh… hi?” you say unsurely, kind of at a loss for words.
“how are you?”
“what do you want?” you ask as if he’s a fly who won’t stop buzzing around you. he supposes, in a way, he is. 
“i-i just wanna talk to you,” he says meekly. 
“about what? there's nothing left to say,” you argue. and with that, you rise from the bed, preparing to leave.
“i’m sorry!” he exclaims, the words leaving his mouth before he can get a chance to reel them back in. “i’m just… really, really sorry.”
“i don’t care,” you say flatly, crossing your arms and not even sparing him a glance. now that stings. 
“but i’m sorry!” he repeats, just like a child. “can’t you forgive me?” 
“and what exactly are you sorry for?” you turn to look at him. “sorry for treating me like shit for years, sorry you fucked me when i told you i wasn’t interested, or sorry because i’m not there at your beck and call anymore?” his face crumbles at your unforgiving words. 
“i’m… i’m sorry for how i treated you. i know i was wrong, but i’ll never do it again if you just give me a chance.”
“no,” you reply firmly. 
“please?” he begs, teary-eyed and words unsteady.
“what exactly do you want from me?” you sigh irritatedly. “if you want things to go back to how they were before, you’re out of your fucking mind.” 
“what if i don’t want things to go back to how they were? 
“then what do you want?” you ask, genuinely curious now.
“i want you, that’s all. things don’t need to go back to how they were. i just need you.” 
“need me?” you laugh dryly. “you need me now? you only miss me because you don’t have me at your service anymore. stop wasting my fucking time.” 
“that’s not true! i miss you. i-i know i’m late, but i really miss you. i’m sorry i didn’t realize it sooner.” he looks so… pathetic like this. it’d be sad if it weren’t so goddamn vindicating. before you can come up with a response, he’s hurriedly saying his next words. 
“i-if you wanted me to learn my lesson, i’ve learned it. i promise i have. i promise i’ll never, ever take you for granted again.”
“beomgyu,” you sigh, closing your eyes and massaging your temples, “this isn’t about teaching you a lesson. this is about me not being willing to put up with you anymore.” he looks absolutely devastated by your harsh words.
“i’m begging you,” he says, voice shaking like a leaf. 
“why does it matter? what, you haven’t been able to get your dick wet? do you need pussy on tap again?” he blushes at your words. you must’ve hit a sore spot.
“so that’s it. you don’t miss me at all. you just want to take advantage of me.” you don’t know why, but your own words don’t just hurt him, but yourself. you’re not sure what you were expecting, but you can't help but feel disappointed. missing you is still all about him. what he wants, what he thinks he needs. 
“i love you,” he says. what?
“w-what?” 
“i love you,” he repeats with more vigor. "i didn’t know it then, but i know it now. i miss you so much because i love you. and i want to be with you.” this whole thing is so ridiculous, you don’t know whether to laugh in his face or beat the shit out of him, but you can’t deny the way your heart flutters (and clenches) at his words.  
“you have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say coldly. what the hell does beomgyu know about love? love is selfless, self-sacrificing. he doesn’t know a fucking thing about that. this must be a new way of trying to keep you all to himself. but it’s working.
“i know you don’t think i do, and i understand why. i just want you to give me a chance to show you that i mean it. i’ll do anything.” 
he’s annoying, no doubt, but you like how he looks when he begs. you could get used to this.
how do you say no to him when he’s begging so feverishly like this? beomgyu hasn’t begged for anything in his fucking life. he hasn’t needed to, given how easily everything has worked out for him thus far. but this new side of him sparks a new fire in you you had no idea existed. you’re struck with a sadistic new idea you will probably regret, but right now? you want to act on it.
“anything?” 
“anything,” he says so quickly you can’t help but laugh a little.
“then strip,” you command.
“w-what?” he asks, eyes blown wide in shock.
“you heard me.”
“b-but the party?” 
“whatever,” you sneer. “if you’re not going to do it, i’m leaving.” you turn to leave, but he yanks you back and looks at you with pleading eyes. 
“i’ll do it,” he says with newfound determination. you slyly lock the door and he gulps before pulling his shirt over his head. he’s been naked before you many times, but this feels different. he feels like he’s being scrutinized to a degree where he can feel your eyes boring into him. you tilt your chin up and raise your eyebrows expectantly. with shaky hands, he undoes his pants and lets them fall to the floor. he’s embarrassingly hard already, if the tent in his boxers is of any indication, which only makes you smile meanly.
“i don’t remember telling you to stop,” you say arrogantly. he gulps and finishes undressing, cock slapping comically into his stomach. he stands fully naked and feels smaller than he ever has. you push him onto the bed and he wonders what you have in store for him. 
you straddle him, still fully clothed, but hiking your dress up just a bit so he can see how soaked you are through your panties. he whines when you take one of his hardened nipples between your fingers and experimentally tweak it. 
“do you like that, beomie?”
he nods feverishly and says “like it, like it so much!” you smirk in satisfaction as you plant a searing kiss on his chest and he can’t bite back his moans. between you sucking a blooming hickey and toying with his chest, his mind is fuzzy and all he can feel is pure ecstasy.
this isn’t about him, though. and you make that clear when you move and situate your clothed pussy over his face.
“sit on my face, please, please, please. wanna taste you,” he cries. well, you won’t say no this time. 
you hold onto the headboard as he moves your ruined panties to the side and he gasps when he sees how wet you are. he whines again, showing you just how badly he wants to be in it, but all you do is lower yourself onto him. his tongue is skilled, just like it’s always been, but there’s a sense of desperation that wasn’t there before. he switches between fucking your hole with his warm tongue and sucking on your clit like a man starved. you feel your legs buckling as you reach your end, but his hands grip your soft thighs even after you finish, lapping at your pussy like a damn dog. 
“ah, too much! b-bad boy!” you exclaim. that doesn’t stop him though, and now you’re sober enough to notice how desperately he’s fucking into nothing at all. his cock, usually so pretty and pink, is now a deep red color from the lack of reprieve.
you thread one hand in his hair, just to have something to hold onto, and he groans into your pussy when you lightly tug his hair. before you can do anything more, you’re falling apart on his tongue and crying out his name. a sound he never thought in a million years he’d hear again, but what a lovely sound it is.
“sit on my cock, p-please?” he begs when you finally raise from his face. 
“you’re not in a position to be asking me for anything, beomgyu,” you say.
“please? baby, it’s aching.” you throw a look back and see he’s right. it’s beet red and leaking an ungodly amount of precum. your pussy clenches around nothing when you see how desperate he is for you.
“please? need you,” he says with tears in his eyes. 
after all this time, you’re still so fucking weak for him. you sigh as you take off your dress and his eyes widen when he watches your breasts bounce as you toss the tiny little thing somewhere behind you. 
he goes to grab them, but you slap his hands away and it’s all he can do to keep himself from kicking his feet like a toddler throwing a tantrum.
“but why?!” he asks frustratedly. 
“bad boys don’t get to touch,” you shrug, and he’s a split second away from whining when you harshly grab the base of his cock, shutting him up once and for all. before you can lower yourself onto him, he’s cutting into your desire with his next words.
“a-are you fucking him?” he asks meekly. it doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s talking about kai. 
“why do you care? aren’t you the one who’s always going on and on about ‘no strings attached’?” you spit and he looks sorrier than you’ve ever seen him. to be honest, you’re not fucking kai. you’ve never seen each other that way, actually. he’s been nothing short of amazing to you, to be sure, but his lingering feelings for his ex and yours for beomgyu didn’t make for the best foundation for love. at this point, you were the best of friends. nothing more, nothing less. but beomgyu doesn’t need to know that. 
any words of complaint on his part are cut short by you sinking down on him. 
“mmh… o-oh my god,” he says hoarsely as the tip of his cock pushes through your entrance. it’s always been a tight fit, but you’ve been celibate for nearly a whole year. your muscles aren’t used to the intrusion and he can feel it. still, you continue sinking down onto him until every inch is sheathed in you and he’s touching your cervix. you can swear you feel him in your womb. his tears are falling freely now as he can feel you adjust around him, pussy clenching against your will as you try to accommodate his length and girth. 
“s-so pretty,” he says as his bleary eyes try to focus on you. you let out an airy laugh, but truthfully, you aren’t faring much better. he looks so perfect like this, sobs coming from his pretty mouth and tears spilling over his reddened cheeks. that’s all the permission you need to really start. slowly, you pull yourself up with no little effort on your part. your pussy nearly turns inside out trying to get yourself off of his length. the lewd image engraves itself in his eyes and he cries even harder. 
“l-love you, love you, love you so much,” he whines, eyes rolling back from the pleasure. his mouth is open and you think you might even see a bit of drool pooling at the corners of his lips. you don’t respond, but instead you mercilessly sink back down in one fluid motion. 
“ah!” you both cry out at the feeling. you’re so full, you can barely stand it, so you don’t. up and down, you begin bobbing on his cock with little regard for his sorry state. he grabs your hips, pulling you down and fucking up into you, not once letting you falter in your pace. his grip will leave bruises, but you’re not interested in the repercussions of your actions now as beomgyu grits his teeth and rams harder and harder into you. he’s so lost in the feeling, he no longer cares about your so-called rules as he grabs your bare tits and pops one in his mouth. he begins sucking and rubbing his tongue on it and his big, veiny hand is busy teasing the other one. 
“i- i thought i said you don’t get to touch,” you manage to choke out between gasps.
“c-can’t help it! your tits are so pretty!” he says as if it’s completely out of his control. and it really might be. beomgyu doesn’t look like he’s in control of anything at this very moment. he just didn’t realize how much he’d love the feeling. with his words of praise and the suckling of your chest, you feel yourself coming closer and closer to the edge. 
“gyu, i’m coming!” you exclaim as spasm around him. a few seconds later, and you feel his hot seed overflowing from your insides. after a couple of more sloppy thrusts, you’re collapsing on top of him and panting heavily.
“so good, so perfect,” he whispers before pulling out. what you don’t expect is how he flips you over onto the bed and slides himself in your aching cunt again. 
“g-gyu?!” you stutter.
“j-jus’ wanna show you how much i missed you,” he slurs, mouth agape and eyes totally glazed over. he hikes your legs up over his shoulders and pistons in and out of you at an ungodly pace. he’s so deep, you can feel hot tears spring in your eyes as you struggle to take all of him in. he leans over and shoves his tongue in your accepting mouth. 
“good pussy,” he says in a daze when he parts from you. “so fucking tight. j-jus’ for me, right?” he asks, and you can hear the insecurity in his voice. you’re silent for a moment before you answer quietly.
“just for you.” he smiles as if he’s relieved and continues to fuck you into the mattress until he’s painting your insides again. he pulls out and the sinful sight of cum leaking out of your puffy hole sears his eyes. you look so beautiful like this, when you’re full of nothing but him. the thought of doing this forever, just you and him and no one else, is enough to make him feel happiness he’s never felt before.
he collapses next to you and pulls you into his warm embrace. he’s never done this before. not after sex, anyway, but he’s shown you the most vulnerable sides of him tonight. the sides you used to cry about not being able to see.
“you didn’t answer my question before,” beomgyu whispers.
“what?” you ask, still in a daze.
“are you fucking him?” you want to sit up and smack him, but he cages you in his arms. leave it to beomgyu to ruin the mood
“... no, but i just don’t see why you would care. weren’t you getting your dick wet until you couldn’t find anyone else?” 
“i wasn’t! i… i couldn’t get hard for them…” he trails off, almost hoping you didn’t hear. but you did. you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. is he serious? 
“and the only reason why i’m asking is because i just can’t stand to see you with anyone else.” for some reason, your temper flares at this. 
“yeah? well imagine how i felt for years.” he’s silent at this. how can he make up for years of making you feel like garbage? and how could you bear feeling like this for years on end? it hasn’t quite been a year for him yet, but he feels absolutely gutted. every day without you is miserable, to say the very least. and seeing you with someone else? heartbreaking.
“being together is a bad idea,” you sigh after putting some thought into it. “we’ll just fight and —” 
“we won’t fight!” he exclaims. “why would we fight? i’ll just listen to anything you say!” 
oh. you could really, really get used to this.
notes pt. 2: is it normal to never be satisfied w what u write? bc that's how i feel ;_; but whatever! it is what it is i fear. anyway, i hope u still enjoyed it!
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*not everyone's tag options were open, but i still put ur user in so u can see that i tried!! also, if you're an ageless blog, i'd prefer if you didn't read my works even if you're not a minor because it makes me uncomfortable. for that reason, you were not tagged. thank u friends <3
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russellsppttemplates · 8 months ago
Text
Carrying it all on your shoulders (Daniel Ricciardo)
Juggling two kids without Daniel proved to be harder than you thought
Note: english is not my first language. I don't get requests for Daniel that often, and dad!Daniel is very fun and cute to write!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: reader's self-doubt and low self esteem associated with motherhood and parenting, exhaustion, curse words
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"Y/N, are you sure you want to do it? I'll do it no problem", your colleague assured you, "even one of the interns can do it, Y/N! Seriously, go home earlier!", she offered.
"I can do it", you added, crossing over the task you had completed on your post it note and writing two more down, "Sophia just started her ballet class and Alice's nursery had a pantomime today so they're keeping the kids for a little longer", you winked at her, gathering the documents and getting ready to complete the task.
Lately, this was your routine. Drop the girls at school and nursery, head up to work, pick the girls up and drive home before homework, playtime, dinner time and then the bedtime routine. When Daniel was still home, it was usually him doing the school and nursery runs so it wasn't like it added a lot to your routine, but it requires more juggling than you initially thought.
By the time you finished the tasks, you were the only one left, shutting down your laptop and closing all of the doors once you had your belongings all packed into your bag, finally calling it a day and heading to your car.
Picking a very sleepy Alice from nursery and then a pouty Sophia from her ballet class, you tried your best to not bother the youngest one, "how was your class today, princess?", you wondered once you stopped at a red light, turning around slightly so you could look at your daughter's face.
"It was okay", she stated, remaining unusually quiet all the way back home as she looked outside the window.
"I'm going to put Alice down for a little nap and then I'll go and help you with your homework, okay?", you said to Sophia as she set her backpack down near her desk, "I don't have any today", she said, closing the door behind her as you walked to Alice's room, laying her down on the mattress and kissing the top of her head, feeling it warmer than usual.
"Oh, babygirl", you cooed, grabbing the thermometer from the medicine cubby and putting it on her ear, silently hoping it was just you.
A minute later, the result showed she was beggining to develop a fever. Sighing, you stored the thermometer in its box and got the medicine from your bathroom, grabbing the syringe to put it in her mouth when you managed to waker her up without a big fuss.
"I know you don't want this, baby", you cooed as Alice stirred in her sleep, big brown eyes looking up at you with tears welling up on them, "take this for mummy, okay?", you pleaded, "you'll feel better, my love", you said, holding her on your arms so she could fall asleep again.
The tiredness came over you pretty quickly, making you sit on the rocking chair, closing your eyes for a little bit and taking a deep breath. Because she was your second child, you didn't feel like the first time Sophia got sick. While in the first time, you ran around like a headless chicken, ready to bring her to the emergency room and messaging her pediatrician until both your parents' and Daniel's parents assured you and your husband you were doing just fine. So far, she didn't seem to bothered by it, just sleep, so you allowed yourself the moment to rest with her, rubbing her back and showering her with kisses and a good cuddle.
"Mummy?", Sophia asked, knocking on the door of her sister's room to announce she was coming in, "what are we having for dinner?", she asked, taking in the sight of you and her sister.
"Oh", you noted, not having given it much thought until that moment, "we can have spaghetti bolognese, I'll just have to boil some pasta - I think we still have some of those heart shapes pastas daddy brought home the other day -, or we could have some chicken nuggets and rice if you prefer that", you offered, thinking of the meal plan meals you had in the fridge as you didn't feel like cooking everything from scratch tonight.
"The spaghetti bolognese is fine", she whispered, coming closer to you and kissing her sister's hand, "is Alice sick?", she questioned.
"She has a bit of a fever, it's probably something she picked up from in nursery, you used to get these every now and again, too", you explained, brushing the curls away from her eyes, "she'll be fine though. Are you feeling okay, beautiful girl?", you checked with her, wanting to be prepared in case both kids came down with this bug.
"I feel fine", she assured you, kissing your cheek before she saw you get up and grabbing the sling, wrapping her sister against you, "do you want to help me with the pasta then?", you smiled, stretching your hand so she could grab it and you both could head to the kitchen.
"I'll set the plates", Sophias offered, making you kiss the top of her head as a thank you and going back to stirring the pasta while the sauce warmed up in another pot.
You ate the food in a quieter environment that usual, and while the reasonable voice in your head told you that it was due to the fact that everyone was a little tired, the snarky and mean one made you feel guilty.
As you washed up the pots and plates from dinner while Sophia spent some time watching cartoons on TV, your mind took you to the mom guilt feelings, rewinding back to all of the times in the last two weeks where you didn't spend time with either of them separately, all of the times where you had to rush to get out of the house all in one piece and all of the things you weren't doing well.
"Soph", you called, "I'm going upstairs to put Alice down, is there anything I can do for you before I go?", you wondered.
"Can I have your phone so I speak to daddy, please?", she asked, "he hasn't called today", she reasoned, "take it from my pocket, bub", you said, tuning your back to her slightly so she could retrieve the device from the denim material, "call me if you need anything, okay?", you checked with her, "okay, mummy! Night night, Alice, I love you", she waved at her sister who blew her a sloppy kiss.
Sitting down on the sofa, Sophia pressed Daniel's contact, smiling at the love heart on the contact despite having seen it many times before, "hey!", Daniel said, a little surprised to see the little girl's face instead of yours.
"Hi daddy!", she smiled, "mummy is putting Alice to sleep so I thought I'd talk to you for a bit", she said, "I have something to tell you".
"Oh, okay, tell me then", Daniel concerned, sensing that what your daughter wanted to tell him was something troubling her.
"I'm confused", she began, "do you remember that book you and mummy read to me and Alice? The one with the monster who is now doctor?", she tried as Daniel nodded.
Anna Llenas was one of your favourite authors for kids' stories and you always read them to your family. The way they spoke about their emotions and how to deal with them became a great tool to get them to talk openly about how they felt and Sophia seemed to be getting it.
"Yes, baby, what about it?", Daniel asked.
"I feel confused, because today I didn't really want to go to the ballet practice but I did it anyway", she said, "so I was really quiet and my friends noticed it, the teacher, too. And mummy, I think she's upset with me, too", she admitted.
"Well, do you remember what the turtle nurse did in the book?", Daniel questioned, "she had her first aid box full of things that make her heart feell warm and good", Sophia mumbled, "go and get it then, princess", Daniel urged.
Sophia pulled the box from under the sofa. The premise of the activity on the book as simple: the kids had to make a box full of things that helped them regulate their emotions and feelings when they felt confused, sad or anxious. While Alice was still too little to make one, Sophia loved the arts and crafts aspect of it and spent the whole afternoon with Daniel making her perfect first aid kit.
"Do you remember what we do with the bee drawing?", Daniel guided, "we take a big breath in, and then a big breath out", he exemplified, doing it three more times with her before speaking up again, "do you feel better?".
"I do, daddy", she said, fishing out something out of the box, "this is the pillow we made with mummy, she sewed it with my favourite soft fabrics", she smiled at the memory, rubbing it on her cheek, "and a picture of us, look!", she showed Daniel the frame with the picture of the first race Alice attended, the four of you in front of the motorhome with big smiles.
"That's right baby, we can also dance it out a little if you want", Daniel offered but she shook her head, showing him the empty bottle of medicine, "this is the 'No medicine', right?", she checked with him. The bottle was of course empty, but the idea was there.
"That's right! Sometimes we have to say no when we don't want to do some things", Daniel advised, remembering the story well enough without having the actual book in front of him, "to adults, we have to be more careful because there are things that we can't run from, but for your ballet classes, for example, you can say you don't want to go if you don't want to, sweetie", he told her earnestly.
"Okay daddy", she whispered, taking another deep breath with her finger following the wavy bee line on the drawing.
"Promise you'll tell me or mummy whenever that happens?", he asked, "I promise, daddy", she smiled, seeming calmer and happier now.
"That's great, Soph. I'm very proud of you for telling me that", he complimented, "Can I ask you about mummy, princess? Is she still upstairs?", he checked with her, not wanting her to think he didn't care about her anymore.
"Yes, daddy", Sophia smiled before pouting, "she's a little tired, and yesterday I think she was crying. I know I wasn't supposed to be up, but I forgot Snuggles by the door", she explained, mentioning her stuffed teddy that she loved to sleep with, "and when I went to pick it up, I heard mummy sniffling, she was doing it quietly but I heard it still", she told him.
Your daughter confirmed his suspicions. Before he left, you spoke about how you were going to handle two kids and your job, and while at the time it seemed good, the practical side of the conversation looked to be otherwise. He called everyday and he noticed you looking more tired each day, but he justified it on the adjustment. Eventually, there would be a day that you finally adapted to the routine, but that was wishful thinking.
"Soph, are you still on the phone with daddy?", you called from the corridor, loud enough for her to hear but quiet enough that it wouldn't disturb Alice in the sleep you worked so hard in getting her to.
"Hey, gorgeous", Daniel said as you appeared on the screen as Sophia handed you your phone back, "I'm going to get ready for bed, mummy, I'll wait for you when you can read my bedtime story", she smiled, kissing you cheek and saying goodbye to Daniel.
"How was your day?", he asked, "busy busy, but it's over now. Things are going at full speed. Sophia was a bit quieter when she arrived, but she seemed better - no need to rub it in that she's a daddy's girl -, and Alice has caught the bug that has been going around", you shrugged your shoulders, "her temperature is slowly cooling down, and other than that, she's fine", you sighed, "and yours?".
Daniel told you about his meetings, not wanting to pester you too much as he could sense the tiredness you felt, "I'll let you go rest, though. Have a good night, gorgeous", he blew you a kiss before your face disappeared.
Opening his laptop, he looked for a flight that would make him arrive just in time for school pick up, "I can't stay for the rest of the week", Daniel said to the members of the team on the meeting room, "Y/N and the girls need me back home, so if that's okay with you, we'll do these remotely", he half stated, looking for any signs of discontentment or disagreement.
As soon as he got the green light, he couldn't wait to finish that sponsorship content meeting, filming everything he needed to as quickly as possible before bidding goodbye to everyone, going back to the hotel room and pack everything up so he could go to the airport. A long flight away from his wife and kids and all would be well.
Alice didn't sleep all that well, and in turn neither did you, so you called in to work to let them know that you would be working from home as best as you could since your little girl was staying home for the day. Sophia seemed well that morning when you dropped her off at school, soothing your heart from the worries that had plagued you.
"It's me and you, baby girl", you said, kissing the top of her head as she slept on the sling, her fist grasping the fabric of your cardigan as you walked around the house, hoping to really settle her when you heard a car outside.
"Why does that look like daddy?", you mumbled out loud as if Alice could give you her opinion, focusing on the man walking up to the front door and giving you enough time to open it.
"Before you say anything, I had to do it and I won't go back", Daniel raised his hands once he set his luggage inside, closing the door behind him and kissing the top of your head and then Alice's as you stood there surprised.
"Danny, we didn't- I-", you tried, and as if your mouth wouldn't let you lie, the words didn't seem to come out of you.
"I came as soon as I could, and I should've come sooner", he said, "I want to be here for you as much as I can and I need to make sure my girls are okay - all three of them", he looked at you, "Soph told me she heard you crying", he stated as he got you to sit on the sofa in the living room.
"Another point for the greatest mother of the year award", you chastised yourself, taking a deep breath to level out your emotions.
"No, none of that", Daniel offered sternly, "you have been juggling everything on your own and it's harder that we originally thought it would be. I'm sorry it took me so long to come", he apoligised, hands undoing the sling so he could get Alice to rest against his chest instead.
"It's been a lot - and frankly, I haven't been very good at delegating at work", you chuckled, smiling at the delicious sight of a sleeping child on Daniel's chest.
"You also need the 'No medicine' Soph has in her box", he giggled despite the seriousness of the conversation, "I can see that you haven't slept all that much, so why don't you go and have a good sleep?", he suggested, "we'll talk a little bit more about this afterwards, but you need to rest first", he said, "I'll go and pick up Sophia, so you just stay here and take care of yourself, okay?", he said, tapping your butt playfully to get you to get up and head to your bedroom.
While you caught up on sleep, Daniel tidied the house as much as he could before picking up Sophia, who excitedly ran up to her father when she saw him and his sister on the parking lot, "Is mummy with you, too?", she wondered, "no, mummy is resting at home. We are going to get some food for dinner so we can all have a cosy night in, how does that sound?", he questioned, earning cheers from her and her sister who qas thankfully feeling much better, giggling in delight as she clapped her hands.
"Who's that? That's mummy, isn't she looking pretty today, Alice? Yes, she is!", Daniel said as you walked into the kitchen, Sophia's notebook open on the table as she wrote on it, "she didn't want to leave the kitchen and I wanted to make pancakes for their snacks, so we found a middle ground", your husband justified himself.
"It's okay", you smiled, kissing everyone's cheeks and tapping Alice's nose, "well, I'm glad you're feeling better, little miss", you said.
"Also, I'm in charge of dinner. I spoke to the people on your team - I'm their boss' husband so I sort of have some power too", he joked, "and they're going to delegate the work these next few days so you can stay home to rest and just work a teeny tiny little bit. I also plan on doing the school pick ups and cooking", he smiled, proud of his plans.
"I'm okay to help, too, Daniel, really", you tried, "no need for that, like I said! I'm going to take charge of the next few days, there's no reason why I can't and it's going to be great", he giggled, "we're in this together, darling, and there's no way you're carrying this all on your shoulders".
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avatar-anna · 8 months ago
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i’ve been thinking about hockeyrry lately and then i see this…. now all i can think about is hockeyrry having an argument with yn and having to do promo after a game, when all he really wants to do is find his gf and make up with cuddles and kisses :(((
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this turned out to be a lot longer and not the short/cute little blurb i initially planned. enjoy more shenanigans from hockey harry and skater reader!
Hockey player! Harry x Figure Skater! Reader
"So, Harry, what are your thoughts on the team's performance tonight?"
You watched the screen in front of you begrudgingly, sticking your spoon in your bowl of ice cream and eating it, perhaps a little too aggressively. But you didn't change the channel, not wanting to miss a moment of Harry on camera, no matter how much he drove you crazy sometimes.
The fight had been brief, but arguments were something you and Harry were rather good at, and this one was no different. Harry ended up leaving for his game in a huff as you rolled your eyes at his back, and even though you were more than slightly pissed off, you sat down to watch his game on TV anyway.
His team won, but barely. Harry's mind was clearly elsewhere—he took more penalties than necessary and even more checks against the boards, each slam of his body against the plexiglass making you tense up. He clearly had been in two places at once, and for that, you felt guilty. Your argument wasn't inconsequential, and you intended to finish it less intensely when he came home, but now that you'd simmered a bit you regretted fighting with Harry right before he left, as it clearly affected his performance on the ice tonight.
"Obviously, we didn't play our best," Harry said into the interviewer's microphone. "I'm certainly disappointed in myself. In more ways than one."
His poor eyes were tired, bags hanging beneath them, his nose red and irritated. And his voice was hoarse too, unlike the way it normally was when he first woke up in the morning. From that to his pale skin, you could've sworn Harry had gotten sick in the few hours he'd been gone.
"How do you unwind after a game that was tough both physically and mentally like tonight?"
Harry rubbed a tired hand over his entire face. He was polite, but you could tell a post-game interview was the last place he wanted to be. "Erm, just go home. Rest, meditate, I guess."
"Meditate? You meditate? Can you walk us through that process?"
"Uh..." You watched Harry visibly deflate on camera but stay where he was. With a sniffle, he continued. "There's not much to it. Just measured breathing, peace and quiet, and going to bed early."
"Well, we won't keep you from your post-game meditation, Harry. Just one last question!"
You watched the interview wrap up and the sports channel switch over to a broadcast of a different game. Waiting for him to come home, you began to prepare for bed. You set out Harry's softest sweats and favorite crew neck, put new essential oils in the diffuser by his bed, and a new box of tissues along with a steaming mug of tea. You were almost positive he was sick, and when Harry was sick...he became something of a little baby. But he was your baby to take care of, even if you had just been arguing a few hours ago.
A little while later, the lock clicked and the sound of shuffling feet echoed through the apartment. A cough and a sniffle followed, and you could already picture his curls flopping against Harry's forehead clumsily as he rubbed his hand against his nose, the green of his eyes bright against tired redness.
"Y/n?" he called. "I'm sorry about our fight earlier. I know we left things on a sour note, but can we press pause on it for now and pick it up on it in a few days? I'm not feeling—"
"It's fine, H," you said, appearing from your bedroom. Your eyes softened as you took in his rumpled suit, the jacket slung over his arm in a heap. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming down with something?"
Harry shrugged. "I didn't know I was. It was just a little throat scratch when I left here, and then—"
He stopped to cough, and you could see him wince as if it hurt his chest. Taking the jacket and duffle bag off his shoulder, you set it down and took his hand, squeezing it as the coughing fit ended. You pulled him down the hall toward your bedroom, ignoring his questions and protests until they stopped when you finally reached the threshold.
"What's all this?" Harry asked, hooded eyes sleepily scanning everything you'd set up.
"Change. Lie down. I'll bring dinner in a few minutes."
"For me?" he said, a little smirk stretching across his face. "You never cook."
"Don't get too excited, it's canned soup," you said, feeling flustered beneath his stare all of a sudden.
You did things for Harry, of course you did. Was it a bad thing that he seemed surprised that you wanted to take care of him? A few years ago, sure, but things were different now. It was only occasionally now that you found him irritating. He was only teasing you, and honestly, you would've done the same if the roles were reversed.
Leaving Harry to change, you got started on heating up his soup. He probably should've had something more substantial than soup from a can, but you hadn't completely ruled out him having the flu yet and wanted to air on the side of caution.
Once everything was set—hot soup, a cup of tea, and some medicine all arranged on a tray—you brought it to the bedroom and set it on Harry's lap. He smiled tiredly at you, mumbling his thanks before digging in. You watched him eat, unsure of what else you should do in the meantime. Harry had asked when he came home to press pause on the argument you'd had before his game, but now you didn't know what to say, argument or otherwise. You wondered if the silence between you and him was only awkward in your mind and not his, or if he was merely hiding his frustration from earlier with you while you doted on him. You didn't want to pick up where the two of you had left off before his game, but it didn't seem right to leave things unfinished, unresolved. Harry certainly didn't seem to notice or betray his own emotions as he sipped on his tea and sniffled between bites of his dinner.
"I'll get you some more blankets."
Before he could respond, you were off the bed, shuffling down the hallway toward the closet where the extra linens were kept.
You felt like you had to keep busy. You told Harry the argument was forgotten, but you couldn't help but feel as though there were words left unspoken between the two of you. And perhaps part of you felt guilty too. The argument started out as a heated discussion, but you let your temper get the best of you, so instead of getting to the bottom of things, you ended up yelling and taunting and refusing to listen. Harry hadn't been a saint in any of it either, you both had a competitive streak, and that extended to disagreements. But this was different. You were so caught up in your frustration you didn't even notice your boyfriend was sick.
Shaking your head, you grabbed the extra blankets and went back into the bedroom.
Not saying a word, you took the tray and set it on the nightstand on Harry's side of the bed. You wrapped him up with more blankets, piling them on until only his face peeked through. Harry grinned at you, his nose and cheeks rosy and eyes only slightly drooping from fatigue. You ignored him, making sure he was properly wrapped before pressing a hand to his forehead to check for fever.
"You're fussing," Harry said, his voice only slightly teasing. "You never fuss."
"Shut up," you muttered, turning around on your heel and taking the tray out of the room.
"Don't be long!" he called, and you could practically feel the grin as you walked away.
Harry was right, of course. You were fussing. Perhaps you were trying to make up for the things you said earlier, for picking a fight with him when you knew he had to leave for his game, though that had been precisely the problem.
Proud didn't even begin to cover how you felt regarding his career. Harry worked so hard, had come so far in such a short period. In what felt like a quick few years, he had become a superstar on the ice, taking the NHL by storm and absolutely dominating his competition. Harry deserved every bit of praise from reporters and journalists, every standing ovation from adoring fans, every interaction from young hockey players who looked up to him. No one deserved it more than Harry, but the bigger he became, the more famous he got, it seemed as though he had less and less time for you.
You knew that being in a relationship with him wouldn't be a walk in the park, you were familiar with the traveling and the long seasons and everything else that came with being in a semi-long distance relationship with an athlete. You and Harry had been together since college, you'd done it and survived it, but this...this was completely different.
The minor leagues were manageable. Harry had a busier schedule than he did in school, but the two of you made it work. When he made it to the NHL, you realized that busy didn't even begin to cover it. Press conferences before games, interviews after games, sponsorship deals, longer seasons, charity games, international tournaments—all of it was one big whirlwind that hit your relationship before you could blink. And you would've been able to withstand all of it if you could see him just a little bit more.
That had been the crux of your argument. You hadn't planned on fighting with Harry about it while he was on his way out to get to the arena, but he'd mentioned being home late to do a couple extra interviews, and you just couldn't hold it in anymore.
Returning to your bedroom, you started getting ready for bed. A freshly washed face, brushed teeth, and one of Harry's old university sweatshirts later, and you were sliding into your side, back facing Harry. You could feel him, feel the heat of all those blankets you'd wrapped around him. But you could feel the heavy weight of his stare too, as if he was wordlessly trying to get you to turn around.
"I'm sensing this is some form of punishment," he said. His voice didn't sound as scratchy as it had been when he came home, which you took as a good sign.
"What is?" you asked.
"You wrapping me like a burrito. I can't hold you like this."
You smiled, the image of him frowning down at the plethora of blankets you swaddled him in appearing in your mind.
"You were shivering."
"Was I? I can't recall," Harry said. "I feel like I'm in a furnace now, though."
"That's good. Your fever probably broke."
"You know, as much as I love talking to the back of your lovely head, I'd appreciate it a lot more if I could talk to your even lovelier face."
Taking your time, you rolled over, making sure he saw the amusement on your face. The grin on his own merely brightened, and you hoped he didn't notice you blush.
"Flattery won't get you out of those blankets, Styles," you finally said.
"No, but maybe it'll get you in them with me, soon-to-be-Styles."
Your hand went reflexively to your left hand to fiddle with your engagement ring. You hadn't had it long, but fiddling with it quickly became a habit you intended to keep. The proposal had been a surprise, but it felt right at the same time, as if without really needing to say it, you and Harry were both ready to take that next step. And you couldn't lie, Harry had done an immaculate job with the ring even though you'd never really mentioned what you might be interested in. It was emerald cut, a classic in your opinion, but a light green sapphire instead of a diamond in the middle. "I don't know, you mentioned something about blood diamonds a few months ago and thought you might appreciate something different," Harry had said by way of explanation.
You used to find it annoying—frustrating, even—how much Harry seemed to know you, but the night he proposed—at home after spending a whole afternoon together that he'd planned from start to finish—you thought he was nothing short of perfect.
"Are we okay?" you asked out of the blue, though not really. Thinking about the proposal, the wedding, made you realize that maybe you shouldn't go to bed with an unresolved argument with your fiance.
Harry sighed. "I hope so. I'm sorry. I should've realized how lonely you've been lately. I know this...lifestyle...isn't always the easiest to live with."
You shook your head. "I shouldn't have unloaded on you right before you left. I know how important it is to have a clear head before a game."
"You're important to me, Y/n," he said. Harry struggled for a moment as he tried to free an arm from his blanket cocoon, muttering to himself about your hidden talent for blanket wrapping. You let out a watery laugh as you watched him struggle, then helped him peel the blankets back until he was entirely free. Sitting up, Harry pulled you to him, his hand cupping your cheek. "Now, where were we?"
"Allegedly, I'm important to you," you said, the corner of your mouth tipping up.
"Glad you're in higher spirits," Harry murmured, his thumb grazing your cheekbone. His eyes flitted over your face as if he could read everything you weren't saying, and you were sure he did. He had a knack for that kind of thing. "I should know how much time I've been taking away from you. From us. I'm sorry."
"I know you don't have much control over your game schedule, but I just feel like never see you anymore. I just want—I just want more time with you, that's all. I'm sorry it came out the way it did."
Harry shook his head, used to your tendency to hold your feelings in until they barreled out of you. It was something you were working on, you were only thankful Harry stuck around long enough until you figured it out.
"I know you are. I'm glad you told me, though. Or yelled it at me."
Face flushing, you said, "Sorry. I'm...working on it."
"I know," Harry said, chuckling as he kissed your cheek. "But I don't mind. I love fighting with you."
"I'm so glad," you mumbled.
Laying Harry back down across the bed, you wrapped your arms around him. You kissed his cheek and his neck, his skin warm but not feverish. The skin of his cheek was soft against your lips, making you nuzzle your nose deeper into him. Your legs tangled with his as Harry nestled deeper into your arms. Easing up just a little, you leaned back enough to run a hand through his hair, making sure your nails scratched against his scalp the way he liked it.
"Mm. This is almost better than makeup sex," he murmured.
Leaning forward, you nipped at the shell of Harry's ear. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Hey. I said almost."
You chuckled quietly in his ear before placing another little kiss to his temple. Nudging him with his nose one more time, you said, "Maybe after the playoff season is over, we can go somewhere. Somewhere warm. Maybe even tropical. You can take some time off once the season is officially over, right?"
"I do love seeing you in a bikini—Ow! What? You want me to lie?" Harry said, crying out when you pinched his side.
"You're such a guy sometimes, I swear," you grumbled.
Harry's face split into a grin, and you could feel it as you kept nuzzling his cheek. "So I find my fiance attractive. Since when is that a crime?"
"Someone's feeling better all of a sudden." You began to untangle yourself from Harry, but he held you in place. When you tried to wriggle away from him, he held you in place, wrapping around you like moss on a limb until he had you pinned to the mattress.
"Don't act like you don't like it," he said. "Or that you don't think the same things about me."
"Aren't you sick? Go to sleep!" you said, trying not to smile as he began to kiss you all over just like you'd been doing to him.
"Admit it or you're not getting a vacation," he taunted, his kisses along your neck becoming longer, more languid.
Oh, I'll be getting my vacation, you thought. Whether you played into Harry's hands tonight or not, you knew you had him wrapped around your finger.
When Harry raised his head and his gaze finally met yours, you raised a single brow. "Oh, don't give me that look, princess. I don't scare that easily, you know that," he said, though when your brow arched just a little bit higher, he sighed and pressed one last kiss to your forehead. "Fine then. I guess I'll just have to live with the fact that I find you more attractive than you do me."
"Oh brother," you groaned as you leaned across Harry to turn the lamp on his nightstand off.
Harry's only response was a very pointed sniff into the dark, which made you roll your eyes.
It was quiet as the both of you settled down. It was clear Harry expended the little energy he had, as the sniffles and coughs came back a few minutes after you turned the lights off. Shuffling back over to him, you snuck a hand under his shirt and began running it gently up and down his back. Once again carding your other hand through his hair, you felt him relax a little.
You exhaled deeply, settling in close to Harry and cuddling into the warmth of his body. "Get some rest, H," you murmured, your hand still moving steadily along his back.
You stayed awake until Harry's breaths evened and slowed as he began to snore softly. Your own eyes began to droop, comforted by your fiance's closeness and the resolution you'd been seeking since he'd stormed out of the house earlier today.
It could be worse, you supposed. Of all the people in the world to argue with, you were happy Harry was the one. If this was the outcome every time—minus Harry's illness, of course—you couldn't help but look forward to the rest of your life with him.
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deanswhiskey · 6 months ago
Text
𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 - 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫
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⛥ ⛥ ⛥
summary; its sams birthday and his wish comes true
wc; 1,113
warnings; nothing but some kisses
authors note; AAAAHHHHH IM SO SORRY I HAVENT POSTED IN AGES BUT I WANTED TO PUT OUT SOMETHING FOR SAMS BIRTHDAY AND IK ITS LATE BUT OH WELL i promise ill start writing more when i'm done with this semester :))) also this is proofread bc i rushed to put this out apologies for any mistakes
⛥ ⛥ ⛥
the late, late night of may 1st was spent alone in the kitchen. you were so graciously baking your best friend sam a beautiful birthday cake.
since arriving to the bunker and having a ginormous kitchen all to yourselves, you thought it’d be a great idea to start baking and cooking again. being on the road, hunting monsters, you never got the chance to cook or bake. the only cooking you ever did was heating up some frozen dinners for everyone from the store.
not that you minded, sometimes they were good; but nothing, nothing, ever beats a home cooked meal. and to top it all off, homemade dessert.
that’s why when you all settled into the bunker, you went on a big grocery spree and bought almost everything in the store.
the very first meal you cooked was fettuccine alfredo with chicken. something your mother used to make all the time when you were younger and have loved ever since.
when sam and dean walked into the kitchen they couldn’t help but notice the divine aroma.
“‘m my god, what’s that smell,” dean asked searching around for what could be it.
you moved out of the way of the stove to show them a view of the food, “it’s fettuccine alfredo and chicken. it’s almost ready, fo you two wanna set the table?”
they both nodded with enthusiasm, getting plates and forks and knives and set them on the table nearby.
the noodles, sauce, and chicken were finally done and incorporated. you took the pan and a large spoon to scoop it with and headed over to the boys who looked like they were about to start eating from the pan. as soon as the food hit their plates they wasted no time digging in. you chuckled as you watched them almost eat it whole.
that night marked the start of some of the best food sam and dean had eaten.
so now you were baking and decorating the most extravagant looking cake for the man you were secretly in love with.
you don’t know when it happened but something changed and you no longer wanted to just be friends; you wanted more. more than just a quick side hug when celebrating, more than just high fives. you wanted whole, endearing hugs; you wanted to interlink hands and never let go.
the cake you were baking you surly knew sam would like. it’s his favorite cake flavor and a beautiful frosting color. you even added ruffled borders on the top and bottom and near perfect lettering on the top. this cake was made with love.
it was 11:49 pm when you finished and you had flour in your hair, frosting on your shirt, and excess batter on the counter. the cake was put in the fridge to chill over night and the kitchen was finally cleaned 10 minutes later. you quickly showered before hopping into bed with a small smile on your face knowing your best friend would be so happy with everything.
morning came and you and dean had to be the first ones up to set out everything. dean went out to buy balloons (that you and dean so tiresomely blew up) and banners to hand from the walls. he also set out the few presents the two of you bought, even after sam said he didn’t want anything (you both knew you were gonna buy him something anyways), and you set out the cake with the candles, lighting the fee of them up.
sam walked into the kitchen rubbing his eyes. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!” he jumped at the two of you screaming.
after his scare went away, his eyes lit up like a child at their very own birthday. he rushed over to you thanking the both of you for doing this. he glanced at the cake, “did you make this?”
“with love,” you nodded.
“make a wish, brother,” dean patted his back. sam closed his eyes thinking, he knew exactly what we was going to wish for. he bent down slightly and blew out the candles. you didn’t bother with making breakfast because you knew cake for breakfast would excite anyone.
sam was very giddy to open up his presents. he was ever so thankful for the few new flannels, nice watch, and a new belt you guys gave him.
the three of you sat in the movie room and watched a bunch of old movies. sam has grown very fond of old films. he likes western ones the most.
it was getting late and dean decided that he’d had enough of movies and was feeling sleepy.
now it was just you and sam, on the couch, in the movie room, alone.
the movie was at a slow part, just the main two characters talking in an old western barn.
“did you have a good day?” you turned to sam.
he looks over at you, he loves that smile on your face. “i had probably one of the best days ever. that cake? phenomenal, probably the best thing you’ve baked.”
you blushed and looked down. after a moment of silence you looked up again, sam still looking at you, “what’d you wish for?”
“i cant tell you that,” he chuckled.
“c’mon,” you dragged out.
“no, i can’t!”
“please, for me” queue the big puppy dog eyes.
how could he resist those eyes? “fine, but you can’t get upset.”
why would you get upset?
sams heart is racing. “i wished for you.”
“me?”
“mhm, you.”
“wh- i- why me?”
“because you’re all i’ve ever wanted.”
you were speechless. “sam, i-”
“you don’t have to say anything, it’s okay.”
the saddened look on his face broke you’re heart. “listen to me sam,” you started to smile. “i feel the same way. i mean it when i said that cake was made with love.”
a smile grew on his face. “can i kiss you now?”
it felt like you couldn’t breathe, “yeah,” it came out as a whisper.
sam gently cupped one side of your face as he drew in closer. his lips brushed yours before he fully smashed his lips to yours.
you’ve dreamed on this moment for a while. it was more than you could’ve ever imagined. his lips were soft. he tasted slightly of whiskey that the three of you sipped on earlier and it was perfect.
“my birthday wish finally came true,” sam says just above a whisper.
“good, i’m glad.” you smiled.
the two of you fell asleep on the couch with the old western movie quietly playing in the background. both you and sam fell asleep with a smile on your face in each others arms.
⛥ ⛥ ⛥
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kitasgloves · 3 months ago
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if you're writing more of your 'comforting your insecure boyfriend' series maybe I suggest Hinata and Yamaguchi? My boys deserve it.
comforting your insecure bf
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part 1 . part 2 . part 3
— ♬ NSFW, MINORS DNI, gn reader, based on this post
— ♬ omg i'm sorry this was late anon i was in a deppression but this brought me back to life. and yes, our boys deserve some comforting too ;)
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— ♬ Hinata Shoyo
You and Hinata Shoyo go way back in high school. You and he were from different schools and had a fateful encounter during training camp in his second year. You were already in your third year when you met him. You were the kindhearted and quiet manager from one of the rival teams. What captured Hinata's interest was initially your looks, he might be exaggerating if he said you're the most ethereal person he has ever met.
You had glistening bright eyes, a lovely smile, and a melodic laugh. Not to mention, you happened to be taller than him! Your personality was in contrast to his. You were calm and collected, preferred to listen than talk, and genuinely enjoyed quiet moments. Unlike Hinata, who was a burst of energy and always searching for something new to try, especially when related to volleyball.
Despite his outgoing personality, Hinata found himself beyond shy when interacting with you. Perhaps, it had something to do with his silly crush on you. He'd avert his eyes away when you greeted him, stammer a reply, and dash away from you. Fortunately, you didn't interpret this as him having a particular dislike for you. If anything, you found it undeniably adorable.
So, on the last day of that fateful training camp, you approached him for the first time. Hinata went short-circuited as you stood in front of him. His heart was palpitating and he was afraid he was going to explode like a ticking timebomb at any second.
"Hey"
"H—Hi"
"Do you want to exchange phone numbers?"
What?
You were holding your phone while you suppressed a laugh when the shorter male's face burst into color. God, you just wanted to pinch his cheeks. Immediately, Hinata fishes for his phone in his pocket.
"Sure!"
You and the spiker had been texting each other nonstop since you both exchanged your numbers at training camp. You updated each other with even the tiniest things over the passing seasons, it was beyond endearing. You both couldn't deny there was a hint of growing affection as time flew by. Hinata was so refreshing and he fills you with a burst of energy, like an energy drink. It was after the new year when you and Hinata agreed to meet each other in person.
With flushed cheeks, you and he met each other dressed in layered clothes because winter had recently passed. You two visited the shrine, talked, and got food. The longer Hinata looked at you, the more he realized he was inevitably falling for you. Before the wonderful day ended, Hinata gained the courage to wrap you in his scarf and took your gloved hands. Your cheeks felt warmer than summer that day.
"I like you, [Name]"
He confesses. You could not contain yourself because you threw your arms around the smaller male and kissed him on the cheek. Hinata almost fainted on the spot. After that day, both of you decided to start dating. It was a year later when you both became official. Somehow with you in college and him in his third year, you both made it work.
Hinata was the perfect combination of a gentleman and a sweetheart that it made you swoon. Despite the height difference, he always carried you with ease. He gave you thoughtful gifts during your birthday and anniversaries. And your parents adored him so much too. You truly felt Hinata was the missing half of your soul.
"I'm going to Brazil"
You turn your head to look at him but Hinata avoids your eyes. Both of you were overlooking the sea after a fun date. You raised a brow.
"Why?"
You asked and he explained how he wanted to train in outdoor volleyball in a different country, he told you how he wanted to try different things, and he said that he wanted to find more ways to grow as an athlete. You chuckled. Yep, it was definitely something Hinata would do and you do admire him for that quality. Yet, you couldn't deny the ache in your chest thinking about how you'd be separated from him for god knows how long.
Hinata's lip wobbles when you reach down to clutch his hand, he can tell how hurt you will be because of his decision. However, you reassure him with a smile. All you want is what's best for him and what makes him happy. And this fills his heart to the brim.
"I'll be back before you know it"
"I'll be waiting for you, Sho"
You kissed him. Hinata realizes you were wearing the scarf he gave to you after he first confessed how he liked you, and he goes teary-eyed. Eventually, you accompanied him to the airport and gave him the tightest hug and longest kiss you could offer. Hinata couldn't wait to return to you. As you two talked over before, video calls were frequent. Even if over time it wasn't often, you two always maintained a connection.
Brazil seemed to be a fitting place for your boyfriend. All the pictures he sent to you of his progress showed how happy he was and you couldn't be more proud. He'd tell you about his journey with outdoor volleyball and learning Portuguese during video calls. One time he sent a picture of him and Oikawa Tooru coincidentally meeting there.
Although you felt lonely without Hinata by your side, you pushed through, because you knew he was bound to come home soon. Soon enough, Hinata returned to Japan and played in his new team the MSBY Black Jackals. You immediately got tickets to see him play against Adlers. You couldn't believe your eyes when Hinata made his entrance in the court after many years apart, tears welled up in your eyes when your boyfriend grinned at you.
He was here, he's finally home.
But god, it was hard to focus on what was going on with the match. Hinata looked so much hotter that it made you involuntary drool. First of all, the tan looks so good on him. And his muscles? Oh man, you couldn't wait to get some alone time with your boyfriend. You couldn't help the shameless ogling since you've been separated from him for so long.
You didn't mind who won the match, you were proud that your boyfriend was having a blast on the court. But when MSBY won, you leaped up from your seat and clapped for your boyfriend. Immediately after the match, Hinata went searching for you.
"Shoyo!"
"[Name]!"
You laughed as you ran up into his arms. Hinata scoops you up effortlessly and spins you around like you weigh nothing. You cling to him tightly with your arms around his neck while he presses tender kisses against your face. It felt like coming home. People watching the scene whistled and giggled with each other.
"I'm home, babe"
"Welcome home, love"
You two walked hand in hand as Hinata introduced you to his team. They all cheered and gave him wolfish grins. Hinata tries to shush them down with a blush when they invite you to go out for celebratory drinks. Your boyfriend's eyes bulged out of their sockets when you accepted the invitation.
So here you were, dancing in the club with a drink in hand. Sure, you were tipsy but you were far from drunk. You vibed with Bokuto Koutaro and Miya Atsumu from Hinata's team. Your boyfriend admittedly had one too many shots than he planned. He finished another round of alcohol before settling down near the bartender. His teammate, Sakusa Kiyoomi was there scolding him with a frown.
He spots you within the crowd dancing with Bokuto and Atsumu, he had the sudden urge to join too but his vision was beginning to spin. God, he hadn't drunk this much since his first year in Brazil. He tries to sober himself up with water from the bartender. From the looks of it, you were having the time of your life with his two teammates.
Slowly, a disgusting feeling rose within Hinata. No, he didn't feel like vomiting. He frowned when Atsumu spun you around on the dancefloor. It felt vague but familiar. He later realizes it was jealousy. Hinata sat up straight in his stool, that was childish! He's no longer a high schooler! He shouldn't be feeling green with envy. But he couldn't stop watching you laugh with Bokuto and Atsumu.
That envy eventually melted. Damn, he hated drinking because it made him emotional! Hinata thinks back to you and thought how lonely you must've been without him. He thought about how unfair it was for you to leave you for his improvement. You were probably aching with yearning for his touch and love while he was on the other side of the globe. You must be frustrated when you couldn't video call him often because of the different time zones.
Hinata's breath hitches. You're probably thinking about replacing him. God, what a horrible boyfriend he was! He's so selfish and you had every right to feel angry about it. Sakusa watched the shorter male stumble up from his seat and exit the club, he was about to follow him out but he hesitated. When you go searching for your boyfriend, Sakusa informs you that he has left the club.
You left multiple missed calls as you tried to contact Hinata. You sat outside the club with the rest of his teammates, worrying for half an hour. You almost collapsed with relief when he texted you "hotel" after so many attempts.
Hinata was lying on top of his hotel bed with his eyes puffy from sobbing. He felt so bad for abandoning you and making you worry. You truly don't deserve him. Suddenly, there's a soft knock on the door followed by your voice softly calling him. Hinata didn't respond as he sulked on his bed.
"Please, love. I just want to talk"
You pleaded. Unable to resist you, Hinata pulls himself up and trudges towards the door. You swiftly cupped his face in your hands when you saw the dejected look on his face.
"What's wrong, Sho?"
"I think we should break up"
Your heart comes to a screeching halt but you furiously shake your head. You can smell the alcohol in his breath and you know he was only intoxicated. Hinata didn't stop you from entering his hotel room as you shut the door and ushered him back to bed.
"Babe, we're not breaking up. You're just drunk"
"But I'm a horrible boyfriend!"
Hinata buried his face against his hands and the sight made your chest ache.
"Shoyo, you're not"
"Yes, I am. I'm so...selfish! And! And cruel! I left you here in Japan while I was being happy in Brazil"
You sighed as you picked his hands off from his face and held them tightly in your hands. You gave him a stern look.
"That's not true, Sho"
"Yes, it is! You should leave me and be happy with another guy that won't leave you. Find someone who's...*hiccup* taller! And better than volleyball!"
He turns to you with teary-eyes
"You should go date UshiWaka instead—OUCH!"
You scowled as you pinched his ear, harshly. Hinata winced as he saw the look on your face. You had enough of his drunken nonsense.
"I'm not going to break up with you, you idiot! And I'm not especially dating UshiWaka!"
You yell and your boyfriend whimpers at your scolding.
"You're drunk and none of those insecure thoughts are true!"
For emphasis, you force him to look at the mirror near the bed by grabbing his jaw and twisting his face towards the mirror, Hinata sniffs.
"Look how hot you are! You got a tan and you look more...beefier!"
"But I left you—"
"NO YOU DIDN'T, YOU DUMBASS!"
This time you smacked him in the head, which you immediately regretted. Was there any way for you to convince your dumbass boyfriend that he's the best in the world? While Hinata rubbed the place where you smacked him in the head, his heart froze when he saw a dark look on your face.
Oh no, was he in danger?
Nope, he was way far from danger. Hinata's safe, in your arms, sobbing, half-naked, and with his rock-hard dick in your hand. You were positioned behind him with your face buried against the crook of your boyfriend's neck. Hinata's breath was labored as his vision went hazy from pleasure.
"[Name]—ah!"
He whined and involuntarily bucked his hips upward when you began massaging his cockhead. Your cheek rubs against his right temple as you place chaste kisses down his neck. Hinata shudders. It seemed like he was suddenly sober with the way you began jerking him off in front of the mirror. There was no way he could've predicted this at all.
"Look at the mirror, look how pretty you are, Sho"
You purred against his ear. His eyes met his reflection and he nearly rolled his eyes back. He was half-naked with his legs spread and his orange locks were disheveled. He positively looked like a hot mess, moaning and sweating while you gave him a mindblowing handjob from behind. Fuck, your hand felt like magic around his cock. He let out a strangled moan when you started playing with his balls.
"Oh? Does my beloved boyfriend like it when I play with his balls?"
"[Name] please—"
"Do you want me to go faster?"
"Yes, hah—please"
When the pace of your hand turns faster, Hinata goes cross-eyed. He can feel his orgasm approaching and it's stealing his every breath. Your free hand grabs his jaw and forces him to watch himself fall apart in front of the mirror.
"You're the sweetest and kindest boyfriend in the world, Shoyo"
You whispered against his ear. Hinata whimpers as tears begin to gather in his lashline. The look on your face was sincere and tender and it soothes the ache in his heart.
"You always make me smile with your funny jokes and your cute smile"
"You have a heart of gold"
"My boyfriend is so sweet, loving, hardworking, and talented"
You showered him with compliments and it makes Hinata lightheaded. He feels like he's getting drunk again from the pleasure of your hand vigorously pumping his cock and from your affectionate reassurances. Suddenly, the pace of your hand slows down as you look at your boyfriend in the eye through the mirror.
"Do you want to know what I was thinking about when I heard you were coming home?"
Hinata inhales sharply as he catches his breath, his hands were clutching on both of your thighs as he gripped on for dear life. He gulps.
"Wh—what?"
You chuckled darkly as you went in to bite his earlobe with a devilish smile.
"I was thinking about you bending me in half and fucking me in your hotel room until I couldn't walk for a week"
With the confession, it plants a lewd and tantalizing imagery in your boyfriend's head. Fuck, were you thinking about that all along while you were waiting for him to get home? All this time, you just wanted Hinata to dick you down? Oh, he loved that thought as much as it embarrassed him. He does want to bury his cock in you until you saw stars—
"Ah, ah, ah! [Name]!"
Hinata screams your name as his orgasm crashes down on him. You watched your boyfriend burst through the seams with a choked sob as he threw his head back. Spurts of his cum coat both your hands and his abdomen. You gently guided him through his release. As soon as Hinata's vision re-focuses, he sees you smiling at him through the mirror. He couldn't help but smile back.
"How's that? Did that get rid of those stupid insecure thoughts, Sho?"
"It did, thank you, [Name]"
He reaches to kiss you on the cheek and you giggle. You were prepared to help Hinata clean up and cuddle to sleep with him but he suddenly grabs your arm. You flinch and look at your boyfriend, your heart skips a beat when you recognize a carnal look in his eyes.
"...Can I bend you in half and fuck you until you couldn't walk?"
Hinata asks politely. You can't even answer because he's already tugging your pants down with an eager grin on his face.
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— ♬ Yamaguchi Tadashi
You perceived Yamaguchi Tadashi as a modest and hardworking co-worker. Some would say he's a cute guy and you'd agree. He'd show up early for work and would greet everyone with a smile. It was because of that smile that urged you to wake up early so that he could greet you. Your closest colleges would tease you during lunch break about your tiny crush on the guy, it felt silly blushing about it because it made you feel more like a high schooler than an adult.
Sooner though, you tried to make subtle advances on Yamaguchi. You'd begin to dress nicely for work and he'd notice and then compliment you. If you got to work earlier, you'd buy him coffee which he was grateful for. You began ditching your friends during lunch break to ask him if he wanted to eat lunch with you. And you and he began hanging out outside of work.
You continued for a month and became close with Yamaguchi. In return, he would share snippets about his life. He offered you glimpses of his interests like his favorite kind of Onigiri and how he used to play volleyball back in high school. After a long period of denial, you recognize that you have become head over heels with Yamaguchi.
Naturally, you panicked. You didn't know how to deal with these affections for your co-worker. You began to overthink. Would he ever return your feelings? Should you confess? Is he even your type? These thoughts send you into a frenzy that you can't sleep properly at night. One day, you arrive at work with a fever. You didn't recognize it at first until you found yourself unable to perform any work that day.
"[Name]? Are you okay?"
Yamaguchi peeked at you and saw you with your head resting on top of your desk. Your skin was flushed so he instinctively went to check your temperature by pressing the back of his hand against your forehead.
"You caught a fever! You should go home!"
He insisted. You groaned as you cast a tired look at him. Yamaguchi was sending you a concerned look that made your skin more flushed at the thought of how he must've genuinely cared for you. So, in a feverish delirium, you suddenly confessed to him.
"I'm in love with you, Tadashi"
Yamaguchi momentarily froze. Eventually, he gently leads you by the hand, wraps you in his jacket, and takes you home. You couldn't forget how he took care of you. He bought you medicine and cooked you soup. He constantly checked on your temperature. It was no surprise that you had a quick recovery. You were eternally grateful for his kindness.
"Oh, how will I ever repay you, Tadashi?"
"Go on a date with me"
He replies and your heart leaps out of your chest. It turns out, Yamaguchi reciprocated your feelings. Your romance with him began smoothly. You and he became famous for being the co-workers who fell in love with each other and started dating. There was an onslaught of teasing and bantering for a while from both of your colleagues.
You and Yamaguchi became official six months later. He took you out on cute dates and never missed an anniversary. He introduces you to his closest friends from high school and you introduce him to your family. Everything felt like a picturesque love story, that's what you thought.
Although Yamaguchi was happy with you, he didn't feel worthy of everything. He used to have trouble with accepting his worth even back when he was playing volleyball in high school. He had doubts about his abilities and took a long time of encouragement from other people to help him believe in his capabilities. But for some reason, it's beginning to feel bad again.
Somehow, within himself, Yamaguchi finds it difficult to accept how ordinary he is. Perhaps after being surrounded by extraordinary and talented people such as his friends back in high school, he's convinced that there isn't anything special about him. He's just...ordinary. And he's afraid that you'd grow bored of him or expect something from him that he couldn't offer.
Your boyfriend has been quiet during the following days. He's been reassuring you that he was okay or that he was just tired from work, but know him well enough that something was bothering him. Now, you're cuddling under the sheets with him while a movie plays in the background. You were relaxing with Yamaguchi after a stressful week at work. Usually, you and your boyfriend would talk or joke around during peaceful moments like these, but he's uncharacteristically quiet.
"Babe? Are you okay?"
"...Yeah, I'm good"
He answers distractedly and it bothers you. Yamaguchi sees you sitting up and your hand reaches to touch his cheek. He instinctively leans against your touch, but the look of uncertainty etched across his features. He felt guilty for not sharing his troubles with you, after all, you wanted an honest relationship with him. But his insecurities were preventing him from being open with you. He was afraid that you would leave him if you found out he was lying to you. Yamaguchi takes a sharp inhale.
"...[Name], do you think I'm boring?"
He asks. You raised a brow at him and tilted your head.
"No, why would you think of that?"
"I know you said we should be honest and...and I just want you to tell me if you're getting...bored of me"
"Babe, I'm not bored of you"
You rolled your eyes. Yamaguchi averts his gaze as he peels himself away from your touch. Concern flashes through your orbs.
"Tadashi? What's wrong?"
"I...I think I'm not the right guy for you, [Name]"
Your boyfriend replies as he faces away from you. There was an offended look on your face, you crawled towards him and embraced him from behind.
"That's not true, honey. I knew you were the one for me when you took care of me when I was sick"
"But...but what if..."
"What if...?"
"What if you grow sick of me?"
You frowned. Yamaguchi sounded like he was on the verge of sobbing and it honestly sent an awful feeling in your chest.
"What if you grow sick of me? What if I can't give you what you want anymore? What if I can't be enough for you? What if I'm stuck with being ordinary?"
He began to ramble and you have to stop him by grabbing his shoulders and shaking them. You shook your head and gave him a stern look.
"That's stupid. I'll never be sick of you, love. And what's wrong with being ordinary?"
Yamaguchi doesn't seem to be reassured when he turns away and stares at his reflection in your large mirror by the bedside. He takes in his features, his ordinary features. There were dark bags under his eyes, his complexion was pale, and his lips looked dry. He buries his face against his hands and feels his eyes grow wet. The sight of your boyfriend in despair because of his inner demons was heartbreaking for you. If only there was a way to comfort him, to knock some sense out of him, to...
An idea spawns in your head. Your eyes trailed on your boyfriend's hunched figure. You gulped. Out of all the ideas possible, an...inappropriate one has to be the one that seemed foolproof. You wanted to hold back thinking Yamaguchi wouldn't be okay with it, but the idea seemed so...attractive and tempting that your mind screamed for you to give it a try. Who knows? Your beloved boyfriend might enjoy it.
Puzzled, Yamaguchi can feel your hand wrapping around his waist. He was about to pull them away until your hands began to pry on the waistband of his sweatpants. His breath hitched as you positioned from behind him and pulled his pants down. An embarrassed yelp exits his mouth when you expose his lower half.
"[Name]! Wh—what are you do—doing—oh shit!"
You wrapped your delicate hands around his dick and he hisses. Yamaguchi's heart begins to palpitate wildly against his ears. He scrambles as his hands reach out to grab the sheets. His breath comes to a halt when you begin to give languid strokes on his cock. When your boyfriend melts under your touch you take it as a sign to continue.
"You doing good, baby?"
Yamaguchi nods as you smiled and ran your hand on his cockhead to smear the forming pre-cum all over his length. He shudders at the intoxicating sensation. He whimpers when you experimentally began toying with his ballsack. One of his hands went to grab your thigh. You leaned your face against his ear and exhaled.
"God, look at you, Tadashi"
Reluctantly, Yamaguchi trails his eyes to the mirror by the bedside. His eyes went wide at the lewd sight. He was half-naked with his fully-erect cock in your hands while you stroked him from behind. Sweat gathered all over his body and his skin was flushed. He looked pathetically submissive under your touch. It would be a lie if he said he didn't like it.
"Does my boyfriend want to cum?"
"Oh fuck—yes, please"
With his plead, your hand around his member speeds up. The pace sends him whining out loud and throwing his head back. Suddenly, you grabbed his jaw and forced him to look towards the mirror.
"I want you to look at yourself when you cum like a good boy"
You whispered hotly against his ear and his breathing just stops. Yamaguchi goes cross-eyed when you began to jerk him off even faster.
"When I look in the mirror, I don't see an ordinary man. I see my sweetest boyfriend in the world"
"It's heartbreaking to know you see yourself as boring when you were everything to me, Tadashi"
"No ordinary man would be more capable of stealing my heart than you, darling"
Yamaguchi gazes at you in the eye through the mirror and his heart simply melts. He knows you meant every word and at that moment he never felt so loved. You laugh as you playfully bite the shell of his ear.
"With you moaning like that babe, I think I want to call in sick tomorrow so you can fuck me until the morning"
Oh fuck
The idea was enough to send Yamaguchi to the edge. You watched with satisfaction as he wildly bucks his hips up with his eyes rolled back, completely at the mercy of his release. His rich cum landed on your hands as you stared with fascination. After his earth-shattering orgasm, Yamaguchi goes limp in your arms. You wait until he catches his breath.
"How is my hardworking, handsome, and sweet boyfriend doing?"
He chuckles as he sits upright and regains his composure. Your boyfriend turns around and gives you a tender kiss. He gently strokes your hair.
"Thank you, [Name]. I needed that"
"Anything for you, Tadashi"
You smile brightly up at him. The movie in the background ended with the credits rolling, Yamaguchi glances at the clock and hums in thought.
"I think I'm going to call in sick tomorrow"
"Huh? Why?"
There was a suggestive look on your boyfriend's face that it sends an exciting shiver down your spine.
"How about we both call in sick tomorrow and let me fuck you how you like it, yeah?"
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©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)
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delulustateofmind · 6 months ago
Text
Potions & Shadows (Azriel x Reader)
Summary: An old neighbor of Feyre's is revealed to be not who they seemed when Feyre was a child. Leadign to Feyre needing the once village apothecaries help. Inspired by Frieren: Beyond Journey's End.
A/n: I posted a preview a week or two ago. I enjoyed writing this one, I've been super busy at work and with a family wedding so probably won't have a part two anytime soon. Hope you enjoy! Thank you all for the support on my last few fics! :)
Word Count: 2.5k
Part two, Part Three, Part Four
Warmings: None? Let me know if there's any.
Feyre would often find herself lost in memories of their old neighbor, a mysterious figure from her childhood spent in the manor with her sisters. Little did she know, her encounter with the apothecary would soon unveil new mysteries. Years later, as Feyre bid farewell before their departure, she decided to revisit the familiar door, hoping to uncover the enigma of the past.
In the hustle of their impoverished days and the chaos of her transition to fae life, Feyre scarcely pondered the mystery. It wasn't until Nesta mentioned seeing the apothecary, unchanged from their childhood encounter, right before the human queen's arrival, that Feyre's curiosity stirred. She made a mental note to pay a quick visit to the apothecary's cottage down the road after their business with the queens concluded.
The meeting with the human queens did not end too well, though they did manage to secure the book. With Rhysand somewhat strict on their schedule, Feyre knew she couldn't risk being late. The crunch of the dirt path under her feet felt oddly familiar yet different in her new fae form. The smells of the pine trees now heightened, and the distant streams seemed closer than ever. Pulling her out of her trance, she arrived at the apothecary’s cottage.
The moss on the roof indicated the cottage had been there for centuries, perhaps even when the village was being built. Feyre walked up and knocked on the door, her heart pounding with anticipation. The shuffling of footsteps inside signaled someone approaching. When the door creaked open, Feyre was met with a familiar face.
A short woman stood before her, her scent unmistakably human, yet intertwined with a hint of something elusive. Her hazel green eyes, flecked with gold and blue hues, seemed to hold secrets as deep as the mountains' morning dew. The apothecary wiped her hands on her apron, stained with various herbs and powders, and greeted Feyre with a small sigh and a bright smile.
"It's you... but different?" she remarked, tilting her head curiously. Feyre released a breathy laugh. "Yeah, you could say I am a bit different... you're back," she whispered.
The apothecary moved aside, inviting Feyre into the familiar interior of the cottage. Bookshelves lined the walls, while towers of books stood around tables filled with bottles and concoctions. The atmosphere was comforting yet tinged with a sense of mystery. As the apothecary made tea, Feyre couldn't help but notice the intricate organization amidst the apparent chaos.
"No longer human, now a fae?" the apothecary mused as she prepared the tea. "Haven't seen that before." She smiled to herself, lost in thought for a moment before continuing. "I always thought you were human, I mean you don't seem fae," Feyre whispered.
"That's because I'm not fae, though I am considered a fae creature," the apothecary explained with a soft smile. "Long story short, as I have a feeling your companions only gave you a few moments to visit. I am half human, half-elven... one of the last of my kind."
Feyre looked puzzled before asking, "How come you don't age? I mean the human counterpart should... make you age, right?" The apothecary poured the tea, the pink hue swirling in the cup, before joining Feyre at the table. "You're right, I should age, but there's this thing called the 'settling.' It's based on mana. The more mana you have, the more likely to reach immortality."
The apothecary glanced up at Feyre with a soft smile. "I stopped aging around... don't know, maybe 19 or 20 years old?" Feyre looked at her in astonishment, trying to reconcile the fragile appearance with the revelation of her age. "How old are you now?" she asked softly.
You smiled, reminiscing about your past travels as you glanced at your spellbooks and then back at Feyre while taking a sip of your tea. "I am roughly 300 years old this year, give or take a few," you admitted with a hint of nostalgia. "You tend to lose count on the road."
Brushing your long hair aside, you pulled up your sleeve, revealing the insignia of an adventurer guild—a small blossom marking. "This is from my guild," you explained. "I'm a mage, so I embark on journeys from time to time. It's how I honed my skills in concocting medicines and remedies."
Feyre looked taken aback, unable to sense any magic radiating from you despite your mage status and half-elven heritage. She was filled with questions, but time was fleeting, and there was much to be done.
As Feyre finished her tea, she felt a sense of urgency creeping in. "Listen... there's something that might be coming, would you watch my sisters?" The apothecary met her gaze with a reassuring smile. "I leave tonight for another quest, but the wards should be stable around their house. I'll reinforce them before I leave."
With a nod of gratitude, Feyre rose from her seat, her mind buzzing with newfound revelations. Little did she know, her visit to the apothecary would mark the beginning of a journey fraught with unforeseen challenges.
******
Certainly, unforeseen challenges indeed. In fact, the wards failed to hold as Hybern seized Feyre’s sisters while you were away on your travels seeking new spell books, a hobby of yours. Across the continent, whispers of war spread like wildfire. Perhaps this was what Feyre had alluded to—a war brewing on the horizon? After completing your quest, you returned home to find a letter from Feyre—a proposition of sorts.
“War is coming, we need healers like you to join us. Let me know your response when you see this.” 
Magic paper? Intriguing, something you will inquire about later on. You write your response. Perhaps, a new adventure wouldn’t be bad. You’ve never visited Prythian before. Given that elves used to be seen as slaves there, that elves were seen to be just one step above humans, being a half-breed who know’s where that would place you. Feyre was kind though, you knew that from the moment you met her. A war would be brutal, if the fae were asking for help, that meant it would be serious enough to involve others. 
“Sure, I’ll give my commitment for a few years,” you wrote. The paper vanished almost instantly, leaving behind a faint scent of smoke—a curious phenomenon indeed. Moments later, a message appeared, promising someone would visit you at the cottage within hours. With a shrug, you began to pack your belongings, including spell books, herbs, clothes, and trinkets. You were prepared.
That's when you met Mor, a lively fae whose energy belied her formidable power. She winnowed you to the healer’s cottage, where Madja, the head healer, resided. Mor apologized and hurriedly departed, leaving you to converse with Madja. The healer welcomed you warmly, showing you to a modest room furnished with essentials. The bed with white bedding and an old green quilt laid on top. Madja pointed out that the nights here might be too cold for creatures like yourself. 
"Haven't seen a human in years," she remarked as she led you to the apothecary storage room. "But I sense something else about you," a twinkle in Madja’s eye hinted at her awareness of your half-elven heritage. You responded with a smile, "Most don’t catch on too quickly," you murmured.
Madja returned your smile, her expression warm yet knowing. "You're probably the last of your kind," she remarked casually, her tone tinged with humor. "Your kind was always more focused on mana and magic than finding love. Perhaps your human side will help you with that," she teased, reaching for a mortar and pestle.
"Now, kid," Madja continued, her demeanor shifting to business-like. "I want to see what you're capable of. Make a few hundred healing potions—some for minor cuts and bruises, and others for those foolish soldiers who find themselves impaled one too many times."
You immersed yourself in your work, with Madja checking in every few minutes to monitor your progress. Impressed by your efficiency, she peppered you with compliments, acknowledging your skill. Together, you labored until late afternoon, the sun casting long shadows across the cottage.
Feyre stopped by to offer a brief greeting before departing to attend to war preparations and assist her newly transformed sisters. Their transformation weighed heavily on your conscience—if only your wards had been stronger, perhaps you could have prevented their fate. Pushing aside the guilt, you ground a few more herbs, determined to focus on the task at hand. Or perhaps you were trying to push that guilt away by keeping yourself distracted. 
The soothing scent of herbs filled the room, mingling with Madja’s quiet humming—a melody unfamiliar to you yet strangely comforting. You found solace in the routine of potion-making, a respite from the chaos of the outside world.
As you worked, memories of your travels surfaced—the thrill of discovering new spells, the camaraderie of fellow adventurers, and the satisfaction of aiding those in need. Though your main quest was to collect spells, you found fulfillment in helping others, a testament to your kind-hearted nature.
Completing the last batch of potions, Madja introduced you to the other healers, who welcomed you with open arms. Over dinner, you exchanged stories of your respective lives—Madja sharing tales of her long existence, while you recounted your travels across distant lands. The other healers listened in awe, their curiosity piqued by your adventures beyond Velaris. Constantly asking questions of your adventures, asking about the dragons you’ve came across. About the handsome warriors that you went through dungeons with. A smile tugged your lips as you bid them goodnight and headed to your room. 
As you lay on your bed, enveloped by the chill of the night air, you found comfort in the warmth of the quilt that Madja had provided. Retrieving a book about defensive magic from your bedside table, you delved into its pages, seeking solace in the familiar words until sleep claimed you. 
****
As the end of the first week approached, you found yourself manning the desk, processing orders for sleeping tonics, stomach remedies, and various other mundane requests. It was the less exciting aspect of your work, but you understood the necessity of attending to such matters. After all, not every day could be spent brewing exotic potions and elixirs. Madja had left to replenish the inventory and wouldn't return until nightfall. Before her departure, she mentioned that someone from the court would be coming to collect a 'private' order and instructed you not to charge them.
As you cleaned the countertop, the door creaked open, and a chilling breeze swept into the room, carrying with it the scent of mist and cedar, tinged with a hint of blood. You looked up and found yourself locking eyes with a figure standing in the doorway. My stars, he was strikingly handsome in a deadly sort of way—a sight that momentarily stole your breath away. You recognized him as an Illyrian, though you had never seen one before. There was something about his wings that instilled a sense of fear in you, even though they remained folded tightly against his back, shrouding his features in shadows.
Azriel dipped his head in acknowledgment, his golden gaze piercing as he spoke in a low, almost hypnotic tone. "I am here to pick up a prescription," he stated, his voice like a captivating melody that seemed to draw you in.
You nodded, trying to maintain your composure as you retrieved the bag containing the requested item. It was a rare occurrence for you to feel flustered, especially in the presence of another. As you handed him the bag, your hands brushed briefly, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth flood your cheeks. The label on the bag revealed its contents—a contraceptive tonic. Oh... he was an active male too.
Azriel murmured his thanks before casting a lingering gaze over you, his expression unreadable behind his hand. As he turned to leave, you couldn't shake the feeling of self-consciousness. Did you smell bad? Was your human heritage too obvious to the fae? Such thoughts raced through your mind as the door closed behind him, leaving you to ponder the encounter long after he had gone.
****
Azriel departed for the House of Wind, where a family dinner awaited. Elaine had begun emerging from her room, while Nesta remained ensconced in her moody disposition. Lucien had ventured to the continent, leaving an absence felt at the table. Feyre was already seated next to Rhys when Azriel arrived, discreetly passing the tonic to Cassian, who muttered a quick thanks before Azriel settled in beside him.
"I didn’t realize Madja had taken on a new apprentice," Azriel murmured, his gaze shifting to Mor as she joined Cassian. Feyre glanced at Azriel, her curiosity piqued. "You met her today? She’s a friend of mine from the village. I knew her growing up," she explained. Azriel took a sip of the wine passed to him by Cassian, his mind wandering to the petite healer who had left such an impression on him.
Elaine's transformation from human to fae had only heightened Azriel's attraction to her, raising questions about his preferences. Was he developing a preference for humans? Could he handle the brevity of their lifespans? Feyre's voice broke through his reverie, drawing his attention back to the conversation. "She’s half-elf too, are they rare?" she inquired.
Rhysand nodded, his expression softening as he delved into the history of elves and their dwindling numbers. "They used to be slaves for the Fae, around the same time as the humans," he began. "Perhaps that's why she has never been to Prythian until now."
He paused, his tone softening even further. "Also, the elves were known to lack emotions, which led to them not reproducing that often, ultimately to their demise. There’s a few around, but not many anymore."
As food was placed on the table, Azriel found himself consumed by thoughts of the healer. Her scent lingered in his mind, reminiscent of cherry blossoms on a warm day. Though he had only met her briefly, he felt an inexplicable pull toward her that tugged at his heartstrings. It was a feeling he had never experienced before.
An idea struck him. "Don’t we need to deliver the potions to the camps? I could help with that tomorrow, I finished the reports," Azriel suggested, turning to Rhysand. A smirk danced on the high lord’s lips—a silent understanding passed between them. "If you want," Rhysand replied casually, gesturing with a wave of his hand. "Perhaps show her around Velaris while you’re at it."
Azriel nodded, anticipation stirring within him. Tomorrow promised to be an intriguing day, his shadows seemed almost restless to meet the little healer again. A new sort of feeling fueled both him and his shadows.
368 notes · View notes
lvnleah · 3 months ago
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Welcome Home Rory.
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nervous about posting this but here it is! I tried to make this as accurate as possible with the adoption process but I’m sorry if it’s wrong 💗💗
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MARCH 2023
Beth and Viv always knew they wanted kids, it was something that had been brought up on their very first date. So when the conversation about having kids came up one evening, the two weren’t shocked or unprepared. 
They sat together on their couch, Beth resting her head on Viv's shoulder. "Viv, do you still want to have a child?”
Viv paused the TV, nodding her head, “Yeah I do, why Mijn liefje?”
“I want to have a baby. I don’t feel like getting pregnant right now," Beth began, "With our schedules and everything, it just seems so complicated and I don’t think I could be out for longer than I’m already going to be.”
Viv nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I’d love to have a child right now but I don’t think I could handle pregnancy. What about adoption? I think we’re ready for a baby but neither of us is ready to go through pregnancy.”
A warm smile spread across Beth's face. "I've been thinking the same thing. We could give a child a family, it’d work out well too because we’ve got time at the moment to get to know them."
The couple had both been out with their ACLs for around four months now, just weeks between their injuries, so it meant that they had a lot of extra time on their hands. 
Beth reached for her laptop on the coffee table, "Let's start looking into the process. We have a good support system, and I'm sure our families will be thrilled."
Viv squeezed Beth's hand, "Absolutely. We should also get in touch with an adoption agency. I know it can take a while, but I'm ready to start this journey with you."
The couple spent hours that night researching the different types of adoption, they never knew there were so many choices. They could adopt from foster care, internationally or privately. They settled on foster care, something that felt right for them. 
The next few weeks were long and filled with lots of paperwork. In between their rehab, they filled out different applications and went through many background checks and interviews to make sure they were suitable to be parents. 
Their social worker, Sarah, carried out many home checks to see if their home would be right for a child. Beth and Viv had never been as anxious in their life as they showed the older woman around. 
“Thank you for showing me around your home,” Sarah smiled as she gathered her things, “I’ll be in contact within the next few days but I can assure you that you have a very loving home. The child you adopt will be so lucky to have you as their parents. I’m more than certain you’ll be approved.”
Viv and Beth exchanged an excited smile, “Thank you, Sarah.” Beth politely smiled.
They showed Sarah out before closing the door. Beth stood with her back to the door, an excited smile on her face before running into Viv’s arms. 
“We’re going to be approved!” Viv grinned as she lifted Beth off of the floor.
A few days later, their approval came through and they were officially put on the adoption list. Days turned into weeks as Beth and Viv waited, their anticipation growing with each passing moment. 
They continued with their rehab, trying to keep themselves busy, but the thought of their future child was always at the forefront of their minds.
One morning in late April, Beth's phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. She glanced at the screen and saw Sarah's name. Her heart skipped a beat as she answered the call.
"Hello, Sarah?"
"Hi, Beth! I have some wonderful news. We've matched you with a little girl named Rory. She’s four years old and has been in foster care for six months after her grandmother passed away. Would you be willing to meet her?”
Beth's eyes filled with tears of joy. "Oh my gosh, Sarah, that's incredible! When can we meet her?"
Sarah's laughter came through the phone. "How about tomorrow? We can arrange a visit at her foster home, and you can spend some time with her."
Beth quickly agreed, and as soon as she hung up, she rushed to find Viv. "Viv, we've been matched! Her name is Rory, and we can meet her tomorrow!"
Viv's face lit up with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. "Really? That's amazing!”
The couple spent the rest of the day preparing for their visit, making sure they had everything they might need to make a good first impression.
They hardly slept that night and were anxiously up the next morning. They arrived at Rory’s foster home, their hearts pounding with anticipation.
Sarah greeted them at the door, leading them inside to a cosy living room where Rory was playing with some toys with her foster mother. She looked up with curious eyes as Beth and Viv entered the room.
“Rory?” Sarah called out, grabbing the attention of the four-year-old. Rory’s head turned around, “I have some people I’d like you to meet.”
Rory shyly walked over with her foster mom, her fingers in her mouth while her other arm held her stuffed teddy. 
“This is Beth,” Sarah smiled, pointing to Beth, “And this is Vivianne but you can call her Viv.”
"Hi, Rory," Beth said softly, kneeling to her level. "I'm Beth, and this is Viv. We’ve been so excited to meet you."
Rory studied them for a moment before giving a shy smile. "Hi."
“Hi Rory,” Viv smiled, Rory’s face screwing up in confusion at Viv’s accent, “Who’s this little guy?” Viv asked, tickling the stomach of Rory’s teddy. 
Rory looked up at her foster mom who gave her a nod, “Twix.” Rory mumbled shily. 
Viv gasped excitedly, “That’s a great name! Want to know a secret?” She asked Rory, getting a small smile and a nod, “At home, I have a teddy! His name is Flip, maybe one day we can have a teddy play date!”
Rory nodded, jumping on the spot a little, “Yes, yes! Twix loves to play, do you like to play?” 
Beth and Viv exchanged a smile, their heartwarming at how sweet Rory was, “We love to play!” Beth smiled, “What kind of stuff do you and Twix like to play?”
Rory’s eyes lit up and she thought for a moment, “We like playing hide and seek! Oh! And colouring, you like colouring?”
“We do!” Viv smiled, nodding her head. 
“You colour with me now?” Rory asked, getting a nod from the couple before taking their hands into hers, “Okay! Follow me!”
They spent the afternoon getting to know Rory, playing games, and reading stories. Her initial shyness gradually gave way to giggles and laughter as she warmed up to them. Beth and Viv couldn't help but giggle at everything the little girl did.
As the visit came to an end, Rory clung to Beth's hand, looking up at her with wide eyes. "Are you coming back?"
Beth's heart melted. "Yes, Rory. We’ll see you again very soon, okay?"
Over the next few days, Beth and Viv started to spend more time with Rory, which eventually progressed into full days together. Once Rory was comfortable, they took her to the park, enjoying picnics and playtime in the sunshine.
One day, after a full day of laughter and running around, Rory fell asleep in Viv’s arms on the way back to the car.
“Vivi!” Rory tiredly called out, her grip on Twix tight.
Viv looked down at the little girl. “Yes, mijn liefje?”
“I’m so tired!” Rory whined, stopping in her tracks. “Carry me, please?”
Viv smiled warmly, kneeling so she could scoop Rory into her arms. “Of course, sweetheart. You’ve been such a busy little bee today!”
As Viv cradled her, Rory nestled against her shoulder, her eyelids fluttering as she fought to stay awake. Beth walked alongside them, her heart swelling at the sight of them together.
“Looks like someone had a fun day,” Beth teased gently.
“Yeah,” Rory mumbled, barely opening her eyes. “Best day ever.”
Viv chuckled softly, adjusting her hold. “We’re so glad you think so! What was your favourite part?”
“Swinging!” Rory exclaimed, her enthusiasm barely contained even in her sleepy state. “And the ice cream!”
Beth grinned. “You were pretty impressive on those swings. You went so high!”
“I want to go higher next time!” Rory declared, her voice growing softer.
As they drove back to Rory’s foster home, the quiet hum of the car was comforting. Viv occasionally glanced back to see Rory peacefully sleeping, Twix nestled against her. 
When they arrived there, Beth carefully unbuckled Rory and lifted her into her arms. “Let’s get you into bed, sleepyhead,” she whispered.
Rory stirred slightly but didn’t wake. They rang the doorbell before tiptoeing inside, Viv quietly followed, grabbing Rory’s blanket. 
In her room, Beth laid Rory down, tucking her in gently. “Sweet dreams, little one,” she said softly, brushing a stray hair from Rory’s forehead.
Viv stood by the door, watching with a smile before the couple said goodbye to Rory’s foster mother. The couple climbed into their care before making their way home. 
Beth turned to Viv, her eyes sparkling. “I can’t believe how much joy she’s already brought into our lives.”
“She’s a little ray of sunshine, isn’t she?” Viv agreed. 
Beth nodded, “It feels like we’ve known her forever.”
“Right?” Viv smiled. “I think she’s already starting to feel at home with us.”
Eventually, once Rory was even more comfortable she expressed how she wanted to stay overnight with Beth and Viv. Sarah, their social worker, quickly arranged the overnight stay, excited about Rory’s growing attachment.
The night finally arrived, and the couple prepared their home to make it as welcoming as possible. They set up a cosy corner in the living room with blankets and pillows, creating a perfect little nest for movie night. 
When Rory arrived, she was bouncing with excitement, holding Twix tightly. “I’m ready for a sleepover!” she declared, her eyes sparkling. “Can we watch a movie now?”
“Absolutely,” Viv laughed, brushing a strand of hair from Rory’s face. “What do you want to watch?”
“Can we watch a princess movie?” Rory asked, her face lighting up as they headed inside. 
“Of course!” Beth replied, already pulling out a selection of their favourite films. They settled on Rapunzel, a classic, and soon the room was filled with the sounds of music and laughter.
As they cuddled together under the blankets, Rory sat in the middle as Beth sneaked in some popcorn, handing it to Rory with a grin. “Movie snacks are a must!”
Rory giggled, “This is the best!”
After the movie, they moved to the kitchen to make their mini pizzas. Rory was excited to help, spreading sauce and adding cheese and toppings with careful precision. 
“Look! I made a smiley face!” Rory exclaimed, proudly showing off her creation.
“That’s amazing!” Viv cheered, giving her a high-five. “You’re an artist!”
As they waited for the pizzas to bake, they played games and chatted. Rory shared stories about her favourite things, from her love of animals to her favourite games at the park.
When it was finally time to eat, the pizzas came out hot and bubbling. They gathered around the table, laughter filling the air as they enjoyed their creations. 
“This is the best sleepover food!” Rory declared, her mouth full of pizza.
After dinner, it was time for bed. Beth and Viv helped Rory brush her teeth and change into her pyjamas. As they settled into the living room with Rory nestled between them, they read her a bedtime story.
“Do you like this one?” Beth asked, holding up a colourful book that Rory had packed with her. 
“Yes! Read it!” Rory said eagerly.
As Beth read aloud, Viv brushed Rory’s hair back gently. Rory listened, wide-eyed and engaged, making them both realise how far they had come in such a short time.
When the story ended, Rory yawned and snuggled closer to Viv. “Can we do this every night?” she murmured sleepily.
Beth exchanged a glance with Viv, her heart swelling. “We’d love to, Rory.”
Rory's eyes fluttered shut, and soon she was fast asleep, a peaceful smile on her face.
As Beth and Viv sat quietly, watching her sleep, Viv whispered, “I can’t believe how quickly she’s become part of us.”
Beth nodded and soon Viv scooped Rory up before carrying her to the room they’d set up for her. They both tucked her in, leaving the door on a jar before retreating to the living room. 
Later that night, they moved to the kitchen to clean up. “We should plan more activities for the weekends,” Viv suggested. “Maybe a trip to the zoo?”
Beth smiled, already imagining the fun they would have. “That sounds perfect. She’ll love it!”
After everything was cleaned up, they settled on the couch, before heading to bed and checking on Rory, who was still sound asleep. “I think we’re doing great,” Beth said, a mix of disbelief and joy in her voice.
“Yeah, we are,” Viv replied softly, taking Beth’s hand in hers. “And it feels incredible.”
Finally, a few weeks later, Viv and Beth were approved to adopt Rory and officially became her parents. When Viv and Beth told Rory the news, it was like Christmas morning. 
“Rory?” Beth said, sitting down beside the four-year-old. 
Rory looked up, “Yeah, Beffy?”
“So, me and Vivi were wondering,” Beth started, “Would you like to live with us? Like sleepover, every single night and stay with us forever?”
Rory's eyes widened, and she blinked in surprise. The question hung in the air, and for a moment, it seemed like time itself held its breath. Then, with a radiant smile that could light up the darkest room, Rory nodded vigorously.
"Really, really, really?" she exclaimed, “I get to live with you like all my friends live with their Mummies and Daddies?”
Beth and Viv exchanged a glance, their hearts swelling with emotion. "Yes, Rory," Beth said, her voice steady. "We want you to be a part of our family forever."
Rory's joy bubbled over, and she flung her arms around both of them, hugging them tightly. "I love you, Beffy and Vivi!" she declared, her words muffled against their shoulders.
Tears welled up in Beth's eyes as she hugged Rory back. "We love you too, sweetie," she whispered. "More than anything."
Viv and Beth worked with Rory’s foster family on packing up all of her belongings, for one little girl there sure were a lot of clothes and toys. Rory said her goodbyes to her foster family before Viv helped strap her into the car. 
The drive home was filled with Rory singing along to all the different songs Viv and Beth had put onto a playlist of her, a few of them being Viv’s favourite Taylor Swift songs. 
When they arrived home, Rory was so excited to see before running off to her room to see how Viv and Beth had decorated. It was everything the little girl could’ve ever dreamed of. 
The walls were pink just like she’d asked for and she had a true princess-style bed. There was a bookshelf in the corner, filled with all of her favourite books, as well as a little teepee for her to read in. 
The couple spent the evening settling Rory in, after dinner they settled down onto the couch with Rory in her pyjamas and close by. 
“Vivi, Beffy?” Rory asked. 
Beth brushed back Rory’s hair from the spot she sat in between the couple, “Yes, sweetie?”
“My friends at school,” Rory started, anxiously playing with the ear of Twix, “they have parents and they call them Mummy and Daddy. What do I call you?”
Viv looked at Beth before speaking, “Well you can call us what you want. You can call us Beth and Viv, you can call us Mummy and Mamma or whatever you feel comfortable with!”
Rory hummed and thought for a second before speaking, “I like Mummy and Mamma!”
“Well you can call us that if you want, it’s totally up to you,” Beth smiled. 
“Mummy and Mamma!” Rory smiled, “I like that! You my Mummy and Mamma!”
Beth and Viv exchanged a happy grin and eventually Rory fell asleep in between them. They carried the little girl to her bed before heading back to the living room. 
Soon, a soft sound interrupted them. They looked over to see Rory standing in the doorway, her eyes still heavy with sleep. “Can I sleep with you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Of course, sweetie,” Beth said, smiling.
Viv walked over to Rory before she knelt to Rory's level. “You want to come snuggle with us for a bit?”
Rory nodded, her face lighting up. Viv carried her over to the couch, Rory still holding Twix tightly.
As they all settled in, Beth wrapped an arm around both Viv and Rory. “This is perfect,” she said softly.
Viv leaned in closer, planting a kiss on Rory’s head. “We’re so lucky to have you, Rory.”
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seohwang · 6 months ago
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XXXX.
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First kisses with Ateez - Jongho ver.
Genre: fluff
Word count: 755
Warnings: none, Jongho is just too smooth for his own good, that's all
A/N: While working on my other bigger projects, I've decided to post another member's part of my First kisses with Ateez reaction series!! This time, the member of choice is Jongho, as I've been especially focused on him lately. Hope you enjoy and see you again soon! ♥
A/N 2: Btw, this is part of a small event I did on both this blog and my other, more nsfw one, @kp-alice! Go check it out if you're interested in some fun sub!yeosang smut ♥
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Now, I think Jongho is a simple man
Not in a bad way, of course not!!
He just likes to take things at a slow, comfortable pace, especially when it comes to relationships
So he would definitely be one of the less nervous members when it came to your first kiss
He wouldn’t worry about it much, deciding that he’d stress about it when it actually happened
And in the meantime, he'd want to get to know you as much as possible, resulting in many relaxed, quiet dates where the two of you would get to hang out and talk, or even just vibe silently in the other’s presence
Whether it would be at a park, at home, or at some cute and cozy café - much like right now
You were just planning on taking a short walk around, wanting to enjoy the unexpectedly pleasant weather today
But then you saw this cool hand-made artisan shop, and this beautiful public art display, and-
Before you knew it, you strayed way off your original starting point, walking through unknown streets and exploring your new surroundings
Had it been just you walking around, you would have been a bit worried by now, pulling out your phone to try and find your way back
But with Jongho, you knew you had nothing to be concerned about
He just held your hand and pulled you along, a small smile never leaving his lips as he did so
And really, this did help you relax and allow yourself to roam freely
Until you noticed the sullen, grey sky looming above you, warning the two of you that the weather wouldn’t be staying nice for much longer
You told Jongho right away, making him reluctantly agree with you to call it a day just to be safe
But not even a few minutes later, rain started falling from the sky, growing in intensity with every street you passed
This alone would have been doable, but once the freezing wind picked up as well, you were starting to question your life decisions
Noticing your wet shirt, Jongho offered you his jacket to warm yourself up, but you quickly refused, not wanting him to get sick
But Jongho obviously didn’t want that for you either
And so, after a second failed attempt at convincing you to just take the jacket because he’d rather catch a cold himself than have you suffer, he thought of a different plan
Before you knew it, you were being pulled into the nearest café, a small bell chiming above your head as you entered
You tried to protest, but Jongho just gently shushed you, tugging you with him to a cozy table tucked in a far-away corner
There, he helped you get seated before taking off his jacket and sitting down next to you
“Jongho, we really don’t have to stay here, we’re not that far from-” “Of course we’re staying. I’m freezing cold and I was wearing more layers than you. No way I'm letting you out there before the rain stops,” he quickly retorted before reaching for the menu on the table
“But,” you tried again, nervously biting on your lip as you continued, “I didn’t even bring any money, I didn’t expect us to order anything today…”
You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, silently scolding yourself for leaving your purse at home
The entire day was going great, but now you were going to ruin it with a small, stupid mistake
You wanted to apologize, to try and maybe save this situation somehow, but then…
???
Before you could say anything, you felt Jongho’s lips on yours, effectively shutting you up
Instinctively, you closed your eyes, resting a hand on his thigh for support as you leaned in for more
Shortly after, Jongho pulled away, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear
“And who said I’d let you pay?” He retorted with a smile, lowering his hand to cup your cheek, “I chose to bring us here so it’s my treat. All you need to do is warm yourself back up and stop worrying.”
And with that (and a light blush blooming on his face), he turned back to the menu, skimming the drinks to find something for the two of you while you still sat there, shocked
Needless to say, thanks to Jongho, you did feel a lot warmer already.
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Thank you so much for reading! And remember, feedback is always appreciated!! <3
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gisellecnz · 3 months ago
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𝐀/𝐧: Okay, first of all—anon, I am SO SORRY TO KEEP YOU WAITING, I've had a new sy started so I was a little busy..😭😭 and I'm sorry maybe you wanted me to answer your ask directly to the post wherein I publish the fic already, so here's a photo of your ask in a screen shot form. 😭 Also, first would be gojo, and then next is Geto!!
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo x reader
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: gojo took longer than expected to go home so reader is worried, angst to fluff, gojo babying you, fluff at the end
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tick, tock, tick, tock
You stared at the clock, watching it tick and tock. It was past twelve, and each second felt like it lasted forever.
Satoru told you that he'd be home around 9 or 10 from his three-week overseas mission today, but there was no sound of keys clanging at the door, nor any update from him telling you that he'd be home in how many minutes left.
A tired sigh left from your lips, your eyelids becoming heavy as you slumped down on the couch that was near the entrance – your worry increasing every second for Satoru.
You grabbed your phone that was sat on the wooden table, turning it on as you checked your lock screen to see if there was any notification from Satoru – still none.
You opened the app where you and Satoru always communicated, whenever you two were separated. Your recent message to him – "Satoru? Are things going okay with the mission? How many hours left till you're home?" – was still left on delivered after 5 hours. It didn't show that he was active either. What was going on? He'd always text you back immediately. That was not exactly like him at all.
Anxiety was growing inside you each and every second you think about Satoru. Did something go wrong on his mission? No, you shouldn't think about that. He's strong—he should be able to survive. But what if he encountered a dangerous cursed relic?
Sigh. Negative thoughts kept filling up your mind, you tried to reassure yourself that everything went fine, but it just couldn't stop to the point it brought you to tears.
After a many minutes later, you heard keys jingling outside, indicating that someone is trying to open the door outside. Was that Satoru?
As the door creaked open, you quickly wiped away your tears and sat up straight, your heart pounding in anticipation.
And there, you saw him. Satoru was standing in the doorway. He looked more worn out than usual but was still unharmed. His hair was slightly tousled, and had dried blood stains on his jacket. You eyes looked down to his hands, which were holding on some sweets and a gift for you.
"Hey," he said softly. He noticed the tired look on your face, and the way your eyes we're wet and slightly puffy. Did you stay up all night for him? He felt bad. He closed the door behind him, and dropped his gifts on the couch beside him.
"Satoru, " you breathed out, relief washing over you as you ran to hug him tightly, whilst more tears were running down your face. "I was so worried. You got home so late and you didn't respond to my messages."
"I'm so sorry baby." He said, pulling you into a tighter embrace. Leaning in to give your forehead a gentle kiss. "The mission took longer than expected, and I forgot I had my phone inside my pocket while fighting and it broke...I was absolutely panicking when I realized I wouldn't be able to text you." He pulled back slightly to look at you, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb. "But I'm here now, yeah? I'm safe, dont worry. You shouldn't have stayed up all night to wait for me baby... " he plants another kiss on your forehead.
You buried your face in his chest, the familiar scent of him calming your racing heart. "B-but... How can I not sleep after you were gone for so many days, and you came home later..." Your words were a bit muffled due to you burying your face into his jacket, giving him a small weak punch on his chest as you sniffled in your cries.
Satoru's face softened into a sad expression, guilt evident in his eyes as he looked down at you. He gently cupped your face, lifting it so your eyes met his. "I know, I know. M'very sorry baby. Didn't mean to make you worry so much."
Seeing the tears streaming down your face made his heart ache. "It's okay baby, don't cry anymore. Hm? It's okay, I'm here now."
He rested his chin on top of your head, "I bought you some sweets and a little gift. I knew you'd be upset once I came back."
"You didn't need too..."
"Why not?"
You can imagine the pout on his face as he starts to gently sway you from side to side, whilst rubbing your back in circles.
"Alright, alright. Let's go back to bed now. Don't want my princess to get sick from staying aaaalll night long just for waiting for me.
in the end you both cuddled so tightly and you woke up to a bunch of gifts, he felt bad about you worrying so much about him and he thought the gifts from last night weren't enough 🥲
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joeshiestyslover · 1 month ago
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ᯓ★ ifhy- c. sturniolo ᯓ★
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"and i'm grieving and my heart starts bleeding, life without you has no goddamn meaning"
pairing: ghostface!chris sturniolo x reader
summary: you are chris’s childhood crush, and years later, you reconnect after a chance encounter at a party. chris seems normal at first, but over time, his toxic feelings from the past resurface. he can’t stand the thought of anyone else being near you, and he's willing to do anything to keep you for himself
warnings: toxic! and obsessive!chris, stalking, language, blood, gore, murder, angst
word count: 1.7k
a/n: don't read if you're uncomfortable with any of the themes mentioned above
based off this request
sturniolo masterlist navigation
reply to this post to be added to the taglist
happy reading!
⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ophelia ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚
it had been years since you thought of chris.
the two of you grew up in the same neighborhood, just kids chasing ice cream trucks and climbing trees in the summer sun. you never really kept in touch after middle school, as life took you in different directions, but the memories were always there—fond, innocent.
so, when you saw him at that party last weekend, standing across the room, a beer in his hand, it took you a moment to place him. he looked different now. taller, broader. his dark hair was longer, slightly messy, but his eyes—those blue eyes you remembered—were the same. they brightened when they landed on you.
"hey," he said, grinning as he approached. "it’s been a long time, hasn’t it?"
it had been. too long, maybe.
you caught up, talked about old times, laughed about the silly things you used to do. there was something comforting about reconnecting with someone who knew you before adulthood twisted things into stress and complexity. chris was kind, charming even. you exchanged numbers before the night ended, not thinking too much of it.
at first, it seemed casual enough—harmless. a few texts, some late-night conversations. he was sweet, nostalgic. you even met for coffee a couple of times. it felt natural, familiar, as if no time had passed at all. but there was something beneath the surface that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
chris was always available. he replied to your texts almost instantly, showed up wherever you happened to be—whether it was at the grocery store or with friends at a bar. at first, you brushed it off as coincidence, but the way he looked at you began to change. his eyes, once warm and light, now held something deeper, darker. you caught him staring at you in ways that made your skin crawl, even if he smiled right after.
the shift was gradual, like a slow-building storm.
"who was that guy you were talking to?" chris asked one night after a party when you two had gotten back to your apartment. his voice had an edge to it, something sharp that hadn’t been there before. you frowned, confused. "what guy?" "at the party. the guy by the bar. you were laughing with him." he responds gruffly. "oh, him?" you chuckled awkwardly. "that was just ryan. we were catching up. he’s an old friend."
chris didn’t laugh. in fact, he didn’t say anything at all for a long moment. he just stared at you, his jaw clenched, his hands tight into fists at his sides. "i don’t like him," he finally muttered. "he looked at you like he wanted something." "chris, you’re overthinking it. he’s just a friend."
"i don’t care what he is," chris snapped, his voice louder than before. his eyes were burning now, a wildfire of something unhinged. "you shouldn’t be talking to other guys like that." you blinked, taken aback. "i think you're overreacting." but chris wasn’t listening anymore. he stormed off, leaving you standing there, heart racing, wondering where things had gone wrong.
days passed, but the feeling of unease only grew stronger. you couldn’t shake the sense that chris was always watching you. texts became more frequent, more intense, as if he needed constant reassurance of where you were and who you were with. one night, you woke to a dozen missed calls from him.
i’m just checking on you, one text read, but it felt like a lie.
it wasn’t long before you began noticing something even more unsettling—things out of place in your apartment. a shirt missing, your favorite necklace suddenly gone. and then the phone calls started. you’d pick up, only to hear heavy breathing on the other end. you’d hang up, but the calls kept coming.
one night, after a particularly long day, you came home to find your apartment door ajar. panic seized you as you pushed it open, scanning the darkness. nothing seemed out of place at first, but then, in the corner of your living room, a figure stepped out from the shadows.
a black robe and a white mask. a white mask covered in blood.
your heart stopped.
"chris?" you whispered, though it came out more like a plea.
the masked figure tilted its head, and then, in one smooth motion, he pulled the mask off. it was him. chris. his expression was eerily calm, too calm.
"i didn’t want to scare you," he said, as if this was normal—him standing in your living room dressed as ghostface. "i just… i need you to understand."
"understand what?" your voice wavered, and your pulse pounded in your ears.
"that you’re mine. you’ve always been mine. since we were kids." his tone was steady, almost affectionate. "i can’t let anyone else have you."
you backed away, the fear finally taking over. "chris, this is crazy—"
"i’m not crazy!" he shouted, his calm demeanor shattering into anger. "i’ve waited for you. I’ve loved you all these years, and you—" he took a step toward you, and you flinched. "you think you can just be with anyone? talk to anyone?"
"chris, please," you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady, though the tremble betrayed you.
he stopped, eyes softening, though the madness lingered. "you don’t understand. i’ve done everything for you. you don’t have to be afraid of me. i’d never hurt you." he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "but i’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me." you take a step back, taking a shaky breath, "chris... what did you do?"
the moment chris caught you talking to that ryan guy at your friend's party, he felt his blood boil. chris wasn't going to let anyone stand between you and him, especially not ryan.
when chris left your apartment that evening, he was seeing red. he stayed at home for a few days to try to cool off, but to no avail. a few days later, before he could give it much thought, he changed into his black robe and white mask. he then went on his phone and looked at your instagram, clicking on your following, and by dumb luck, he found ryan's instagram. he pressed on his story and saw he had posted from a restaurant not even five minutes from his house. chris grabbed one of his blades and walked out of his house, making his way to the restaurant.
he lost track of how long he waited for ryan to walk towards his car, but when he finally stepped out of the restaurant, chris was ready to pounce. before ryan could even open his car door, chris came up behind him and covered his mouth with his left hand. ryan began to struggle against his grip, but his effort was futile. chris had him tight in his arms, and he wasn't letting go until the job was done.
chris snakes his arm around ryan's body, plunging the knife into his abdomen, making ryan cry out in pain. chris had to keep him quiet, and his hand could only do so much. for good measure, he reached the knife up and sliced his neck, causing the blood to splatter everywhere, even getting some on his white mask. but that didn't matter, he was finally quiet.
to be extra sure he wouldn't cause more problems for you and him, chris buried his knife into ryan's chest a few more times. when he was positive he was no longer a threat, he took a step back, a faint smile of relief evident on his face. proud of his work, chris begins to trek back to your apartment, excited to tell you the news that ryan would no longer get in the way of the two of you. however, he didn't take into account that you wouldn't be as enthused as he is.
"oh my god," you whisper, covering your mouth with your hand. your heart was hammering in your chest as you took in his words. you scanned the room for an escape, but chris stepped closer, his expression softening into something almost tender. “we’re meant to be together. i won’t let anyone come between us.”
“no, chris, this isn’t love. you’re obsessed,” you said, hoping to reach the part of him that was still that boy you used to know. “you need help.”
for a moment, he hesitated, his expression faltering, as if your words had gotten through. but then his face hardened again. “i don’t need help. i just need you. life without you has no goddamn meaning.”
as he took another step forward, you bolted for the kitchen. your hands fumbled through the drawers, searching for something—anything—to defend yourself with. your fingers finally closed around the handle of a knife. you whirled around just as chris reached you, the knife held between you both.
“chris, please don’t make me do this,” you begged, voice shaking.
his eyes darted to the blade in your hand, and for a split second, doubt flickered across his face. but then he reached for you, determined, obsessed. you didn’t think. you reacted. the knife plunged forward, sinking into his side.
he gasped, staggering backward, his eyes wide with shock. blood blossomed around the wound, staining his robe. “i… i did this for you,” he choked out, dropping to his knees.
tears welled in your eyes, but you didn’t lower the knife. you couldn’t trust him—not anymore. “chris… i’m sorry. i never wanted this.”
his gaze locked onto yours, and in that moment, the rage melted away, replaced by something almost broken. “you’ll never be free of me,” he whispered, before collapsing onto the floor.
you stood there, frozen, the reality of what you’d done crashing down around you. the boy you once knew was gone, replaced by the monster he had become. but deep down, you knew he had left you no choice.
and even as the sirens blared in the distance, you couldn’t shake the feeling that chris had been right about one thing.
you would never truly be free of him.
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