#okay everyone see you next week (weak smile) (hopeful)

[aqueousammonia-art]

hello, this is a mithrun from memory I drew a month ago, when I was studying how his hair works - I decided I would put my memory skills to the test (person with infamously horrible memory)

one thing I paid extra attention to that I think would be interesting if other mithrun enjoyers would consider - make his hair more unkempt/frazzled..

below is a screenshot cut off just before my meltdown

i will be back next week (I have a long weekend) or next month (late august)

[yuquinzel]

atsumu who goes above and beyond to impress you, his crush and classmate of four years, in all definitions of “impress.”

honestly how the fuck isn't it obvious to you by now, he might as well be walking around with “i like y/n” tattooed on his forehead.

you mention you like guys that can cook once and holy fuck atsumu who still doesn't know how to use the microwave without quite literally burning the food, who's never chopped onions before without ending up with enough cuts to bandage his whole hand— that atsumu practices for weeks and stays up till 2 am to prepare for the lunch he'll make for himself, because osamu said said no and then because you bring homemade lunch to stay and eat in class with your friends— he'll casually just plop down on the seat next to you, his friends will then very obviously willingly talk loudly about his lunch and he'll just throw in a, “yeah, made it maself, 'm a solid chef, who do ya think taught 'samu?”

okay if that didn't get your attention, no worries, what are his friends there for?

if atsumu gets lucky in a day and catches you chatting away with your friends in the hallway, then he instructs his friends to walk past you, hover in the corner, just within your earshot— “'kay, so when we pass her by, ya gotta speak ma name real loud, loud enough so she can hear it, but don't annoy her”

and so for the time you stand there, trying to hold a conversation with your friends, all your mind can really focus on is the, “atsumu was so fucking good in practice today, if we're gonna win, then it'll be all him”

and then you hear the subject of the conversation speak, “nah, we're a team, every time we win, it's all thanks ta you guys,” because you also mentioned you like modest, humble guys.

god forbid the days you're absent in class.

atsumu who's sulking all day, doesn't know what the fuck is going on in classes, he's half in and half not in every conversation, even his passes are sloppy and weak. to the point osamu and suna are concerned, well, in their own ways, “are ya constipated or something, yer missin’ your spikes and yer passes as clumsy,” osamu says off-handedly.

“i heard y/n didn't come today, i think her friends said she's sick.” suna chips in, and atsumu shrinks in his spot like a grumpy cat.

“i already know that, wouldn't have come today if i knew she wasn't comin’.”

“you'd miss practice then.”

“don't care, don't talk to me, don't wanna do anything, what's the point.”

“down fucking bad,” suna muses, and atsumu glares at him.

atsumu's day is ruined and his disappointment is immeasurable. why did you get sick? how could you get sick? now he's worried and half of himself and his passes are shit and god, he wants to see you. he feels like he could die.

then when you finally show up the next day after what felt like eternity to atsumu, you find on your desk a pile of snacks with a little note— banana milk, everyone knows it's your favourite, the bar of chocolate they only sell down the convenience store near the school, the glazed donuts that you're always eating in class, and a lot of bubblegums that only one person in class knows you like— atsumu's handwriting is rushed and barely comprehensive but you know it by heart because he doesn't know you saw him slip the note you found in your locker this morning, and countless other mornings—

“i hope you smile because of this”

atsumu as a secret admirer is... not so secret because he's still unaware that you see him every morning, and let him giggle to himself as he slips the notes and the strips of bubblegums in your locker— you don't even like that flavor.

but he gave them, so you think they might just be your favourite.

then again, maybe atsumu doesn't want to be a secret admirer.

atsumu has a crush on you and you know that— he's very obvious. but he's also very dense and doesn't realise that everyone besides him can see you like him too. he doesn't know the only reason you bring homemade lunch is because he had started to eat lunch in class with his friends. you stand in the hallways with your friends pretending to talk so that when atsumu's walking past you, his friends will practically yell his name and you'll see him blushing shyly. he still doesn't know you come to his every match, cheering for him and scream with joy at every one of his scores.

atsumu makes it obvious he has a crush on you but is stupidly dense that you reciprocate all the same :'))))

© yuquinzel 2024 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

POSTING BECAUSE WHY TF NOT HUH HUHHHHHHHHH

@kyoghurts hi bbg

[bunny-jpeg]

love is a kick to the stomach

max verstappen - sequel to: lust is a loaded hand gun

tags: smut/fluff, pregnancy & kids, falling in love, dad!max, body worship, tenderness, plot, cowgirl position

a/n: this was made possible by the support of over a dozen people asking for a sequel! i hope you enjoy it <3

"are you sure you're going to be fine on your own?" your former teammate charles asked as he helped you pack the last of your suitcases. your apartment in monaco was bare, and for good reason, you were going home.

you replied with a shrug, "i'll be fine. i mean if i could sustain a driving career for as long as i did. i can handle raising a baby." you rubbed your lower back a little bit.

charles said,"i guess so, you know, monaco isn't a terrible place to raise a child." he gestured to himself with raised eyebrows.

"as much as i'd love to." you said, "i think people will start to raise eyebrows when they see max's look-alike running around. plus, i guess it's a way to get away from it. something simpler for my kid."

you hadn't spoken to the father of your son, max didn't know you were pregnant. and it was the best for everyone if he never knew that you had a child with him.

you remember the first time you held nicolas in your arms, it took you close to ten hours for you to deliver him. you had to say, the aches and pains of racing were nothing compared to the rising anxiety and pain of delivering a child. didn't help he was stubborn like this father. you tried not to think about max too much during the moments of lessened pain. part of you wanted him there, while you were determined to raise your child alone. the moments of weakness you felt during delivery made you want to hastily unblock max's number and call him before the next contractions came.

"okay, okay. just you and me, baby, just you and me." you told yourself as you laid in the hospital bed with your belly swollen from the months of carrying your son. you hissed through your teeth as another contraction hit.

in the end, you had nicolas. or nico as you called him. tired, over-heated as you pushed out your baby. the nurse told you it was a boy. wrapped in a blanket as he was placed on your chest. you could only describe it as maternal warmth as you cried. this was your baby. your little nico. "congratulations." the nurse told you as you held onto him gently. when you gave birth to your son, max was in monaco streaming with the rest of the redline team. fully unaware that you just had his child.

you lived a quiet life after that, but sometimes you could still feel the rumble of the track in your soul. it pulled you in, there was no reason for it to come back. there was no way you could, nico needed his mother and you made the choice to start a family of your own.

"nico!" you giggled towards your toddler, nico was now close to three years old! you picked him up from his spot at the coffee table, surrounded by papers and markers. you gave him a kiss on the cheek and said, "remember uncle charlie?" you swayed a little with the child in your arms.

the little boy nodded, "uh-huh." charles sent you and nico christmas presents every year. he even visited once or twice during summer break and spent a week with the two of you, he loved the time away from the hustle and bustle of racing. nico knew uncle charlie mostly because of leo, you had to teach him how to be gentle with the dog.

"well, he is inviting us somewhere. we're going to see him race, just like what mama used to do." it was the pre-season testing, it would be nice to see everyone. see how things changed in the three years since you left, "i know you've been asking about the cars." you smiled at the little boy.

nico really was the son of two racers, even now he was colouring pages of cars and he learned some of his colours from the cars in your neighbourhood. his expression light up, "the cars?"

you chuckled and said, "yes! we'll see the cars go really fast." it felt somewhat silly to say that raising a child felt more fulfilling than any of the titles you won.

it was almost more challenging with more rewards. driving was intense and lit an inferno in your stomach. but, you were constantly swarmed by the media with people yelling in your ear at all times. you were both hated and loved by the press, the organization and the fans. and while parenthood was harder in a lot of ways, it was nice. it was quieter. you saw friends, you found interest in painting, you read all the books you bought on your travels as a racer. the best part about having a kid was having a travel buddy. you weren't your stats or your trophies, you were just you.

but driving was a drug, and you also wanted to see the cars go very fast. so within a couple of weeks you were on the track for the pre-season.

"and that nico, is a racing car." you pointed towards the red ferrari car. a similar one to the one you drove. and you watched your young son light up the way you did all those years prior.

-

you knew you were going to see max. it was stupid to think that you could not see him. he had won the previous year's wdc, he was everywhere. so while you spoke to lewis and charles, you caught sight of him. and he caught sight of the toddler in your arms.

charles looked over to where your gaze was and said, "oh shit." then tried to shift over to sort of usher you and nico away from the gaze of max. but you reached out and touched your former teammates shoulder.

"it's fine..." you assured him. the past year, as it felt like nico was growing so much everyday. the feelings about max had resurfaced. while you believed that you and your network of friends and family could raise nico just fine. max didn't know that nico existed. a night of passion was just that in max's mind.

you shifted your toddler in your arms and looked over to max. you smiled and gave him a small wave. and you could see the expression cross max's face.

nico let go of the front of your shirt and made child's grabby-hands towards the man. and max took a bold step forward, and then another, and then another before he was crowded in your space. an expression across his face as he looked down at you and nico.

"hey." you said.

"hi." he replied. he raised his hand for a moment, but stopped himself. he swallowed and asked, "who is this?"

you looked down at the boy who was holding onto your shirt once more. you smiled at max, "nicolas. but everyone calls him nico. he's my son."

our son.

max swallowed and looked at the boy. he patted him on the top of the head and smiled, "well, hello nico. your mama was an amazing driver." he looked at you once more before you were pulled away by charles to see the rest of the ferrari team. max watched you walk away, just as he did all those years prior.

-

"can i watch nico?" charles asked while

"i can watch him just fine. i've been doing it for three years." you chuckled as you grabbed a chip from the bag and ate it.

charles crossed his arms and looked at you, "when was the last time you had a break? plus me and alexandra are thinking about, maybe, having a child once my career winds down." he smiled a little, "want to make sure that i can handle a three year old."

you looked to your son on the carpeted floor playing with the duplo blocks that you had brought with you. you then looked to charles and asked, "so you're probably assuming that if you can handle the son of me and him, you can handle your own child?"

charles nodded, "the child of ferrari's princess and mad max. must be a handful." he laughed a little.

"he's not the son of satan, charles." you playfully shoved your former teammate. and he shrugged. you were thankful in a way that you didn't go with charles' plan for him to father your child. you felt like that would've been more complicated than what you had now, since you liked charles' current partner.

"take the night off or at least a few hours. go do something for yourself." charles gave you a sympathetic glance. and you had no choice to concede.

he was right, since nico's birth you had no time for yourself unless he was asleep. but usually you fell asleep too. in the end you dressed nicely, in a pencil skirt and a white blouse. you had your purse on hand and told charles to text you if there were any issues. and you made nico promise you to be good. you kissed the boy's cheek before you headed out.

you ended up at a bar. it wasn't busy and you blended in with the other patrons. the press didn't bother you too much, you had been out of the spotlight for long that it was mostly making the public aware that you still existed and now you had a kid.

"well, well, well." a man's voice caught your attention. you looked up from your phone to see max by your table, "has ferrari's princess finally come back to her castle."

you swallowed, "hi, max."

"where's the little one?"

"with charles tonight."

max nodded, "i was going to make a joke about him being the father... but i know that's not true." he sat down across from you at the table. he rested his forearms on the table, his watch shined in the low light of the bar, "what happened?"

"nothing happened. i just retired."

"with my son... a son i knew nothing about." his voice was low, "why didn't you tell me? do you think so low of me i wouldn't have tried to help? you ran off back home and blocked me..." there was a look in his eyes.

"i didn't want to burden the world champion." you lied as you took a sip of your stiff drink. you felt tension in your shoulders as you took a sip. your heart rattled in your chest, "i didn't expect you to do anything. i didn't need you to."

max reached across the small table and took a hold of your wrist to bring your closer. then he locked his fingers with yours. he said, "maybe i wanted to... did you never think i wanted to be a father?"

you swallowed, "no." you assumed he didn't. not after everything, you heard enough of his father's berating in your karting career. the angry dutch words followed by insults in english so everyone knew what was being said. and that apprently only scratched the surface of what had been done to him. you thought max was a good fit because he would be so disinterested in being a parent. but as he looked at you, hand in yours. you realized you made a grave error. you said, "being a parent isn't easy."

max chuckled, "i know. i'm not stupid. i thought about that night we shared, it comes back to me. i've never wanted someone the way i wanted you. and to know you carried my child, it only pulls me in more."

you took another sip of your drink with your free hand and said, "and what are you going to do about it, verstappen?" you may be a mother now, but you were ferrari's princess, the temptress on wheels. you'd still go toe-to-toe with any man.

max simply smiled.

-

you ended up in max's hotel room. his hands on you like they were all those years ago. he touched you the way a lover would as the two of you passionately made out. you moaned against his lips and you held onto his strong shoulders.

"i thought about you every day of your retirement. i wanted to know what happened. i thought you were sick." he kissed along your neck, his hands at your waist.

"i mean, i did have quite the stomach bug. took ten hours to get him out." you moaned a little bit as his lips grazed over your pulse point. you could feel a surge of pleasure through you. you had been with anyone intimately since max. you didn't have time for dates let alone hook-ups.

"i should've been there. i would've been there in a heartbeat. you, me, nico... a family." he said as he looked to you once more and you toyed with the material of his shirt, "i always had a fondness for you. you let nothing stop you."

you smiled, "i always thought you wanted a model... not a driver."

he pressed his chest against yours and looked into your eyes, "maybe in another time. i wish i could've seen you pregnant." he swallowed as his hands touched your breasts.

you chuckled lowly, "someone wanted a milf?"

he shook his head as he pressed his forehead to yours, "no, no. i wanted to see your body change from what we made. the child we made together."

"but racing..."

he groaned, "fuck it. choose between another trophy taking up space in my apartment... or a home with you and nico. such a hard choice, don't you think?" he chuckled as he held you so close to him. he groped your breasts, "a man who finds more fulfillment in pieces of plastic and metal than having a home to go to is a stupid man."

you chuckled, "i guess i didn't want to be your wag either."

he shook his head, "i don't think you can be a wag if you played the sport. if you are worried about there being expectations placed on you, then don't worry. if you can't drive, then i'll drive twice as hard for us. any ten second gap i have will be twenty seconds, because i know you only expect the best."

you felt warmth in your cheeks. and eventually he led you to the bedroom. you ended up on the bed with max undoing your button up. you giggled, "ah, does someone like mothers?"

he groaned with his nose against your heated skin, "only when they had my kid... nico looked exactly like me." he said as he got the button up off your shoulder.

you moaned, but then yelped as he pushed you back onto the bed. you looked up at him, "i'm on birth control." you licked your lips as you got out of your bra and max took off his t-shirt, "fuck, now i remember why i wanted to have a baby with you."

he put his hands on his hips and smiled. tiny waist, broad shoulders. a certain strength to him, but he didn't look like a dehydrated mess. he was strong in a way that excited you, but you also knew that he loved a good meal. long before he gorged himself on your cunt, he happily ate the meals you cooked. you remember he even said, "you'd make a great wife." which honestly sowed the seed that led to nico.

the night of passion that led to the making of your son. you could feel max's eyes wander across your body and he licked his lips. he said, "you look good. bit more curves than when we last were like this."

"yeah, i had an eight pound baby." you chuckled as you got the rest of your clothes off. max's hungry gaze lingered, "i got a few more curves that a track as carry him for nine months, you know he was three days overdue."

"stubborn." max laughed as he unzipped his jeans, "just like his mama."

you narrowed your eyes, "no, just like his old man." and max was all over you. the kissed became hungry and needy. neither of you had been intimate with another person since the night you made nico. three years ago. you were busy with a baby while max couldn't get you out of his head. he tried to find another woman, he tried to be close to someone. but you always pulled in the back of his mind.

both of you were into the hotel room and max kissed at your breasts. your breasts were roughly average size before you got pregnant. the training and weight guidelines for racing prevented you from having a big chest. but you went up at least a cup and a half during your pregnancy. and max loved kissing the heated skin.

"fuck." you gasped. both naked on the bed, moved against one another. it was like being in a familiar place. you knew max's body just as you did all those years ago. you kissed him and ended up straddled max's waist.

he was up against the pillows and your knees on either side of him. your hands roamed his chest and he shuddered. he looked up at you with those blue eyes, "please, fuck. please, give me a chance. give me a chance to be there for you and nico.."

you swallowed, you never expected that from max. a man on the top like that wouldn't easily quiver at the aspect of being a father. but max wanted it. he wanted the family. he wanted a home. you sighed to yourself, you guessed an apartment full of trophies wasn't enough.

you put a hand on his chest before you sank on his cock, "max. if nico decided not to peruse racing.... would you still love him?" that was a conversation you had to have with yourself. you loved racing, that was your passion for years. but you promised yourself to never be the parent that you saw early in your career. twisting their children to make them conform to the parent's standards. to force them into racing.

he said, those blue eyes gazed up at you, "if nico wanted to race. i'm behind him a hundred percent. if it doesn't, nothing changes... he is still my son. i'm behind him through everything."

you leaned down to kiss max on the lips, "fuck, max." you sank down onto his cock and continued to kiss him. you splayed your hands across his broad chest and continued to move against him.

"shit." he shuddered. he felt a certain euphoria that left him needy for more. never had he had soemthing like this. not since the last time he had you. it was a amazing. to have you so close once more. he wrapped his strong arms around you and moved against you. the kisses shared between you two were hot and heavy, it left him feeling tense in a good way. to have you on top of him, close to him was a feeling he wished he could never forget.

even after three years you still occupied his mind in ways that left him shuddering against you. after three years, after all this time, he still wanted to map your body with his tongue. even the changes post-pregnancy. he held onto you and kissed at your heated skin. he wished he was there, seeing the progress of you carrying nico. to be a father. he moved against you, he held you. he loved you, but he had been holding onto that love for some time. unable to properly display it, and to find out you had a child with him only fueled the passion for you. the two of you moved against one another, you both felt the intense pleasure from the heated movements against one another.

this was how you should've been a long time ago. if max had known you wanted a baby, he would've happily had one with you. but he should've been there for every moment of it. even if you couldn't race because of the pregnancy, max would kiss every winning trophy in your honor, he'd race for both of you. and then come to the paddock with you and nico, a family of three. a family he always wanted.

he wanted to kiss you in front of the cameras. even if you were retired, he wanted to make you feel that every winning was for both of you. he kissed at you heated skin and you moaned, he felt the warmth of love in his gut. you two should've been married by now, a house somewhere quiet. it didn't even have to be in monaco. max would happily pack up his racing sim gear and his cats, and move to anywhere you desired. he hoped that you two could be a family.

to come home after a triple header and see you and nico. the boy looked so much like him. those round cheeks, those wide eyes. the excitement on the track and his need to be close to his mother (you). it screamed a young max, but max wanted to be a better father. he wanted to be present, he wanted to be there for his son.

he groaned, "please, please. let me into your little family." he kissed as your larger breasts and moved against you. the pleasure was deep inside of him. to have you once more felt like a dream.

you held onto his short hair for a moment, you groaned a little bit as you felt the immense heat between you two. you leaned down and kissed him on the head with such tenderness. this wasn't the kind of sex you had all that time ago, this was something more softer. more gentle. less like a means to an end, and more like you two were becoming familiar with each other's bodies again.

"you look perfect," he said lowly, "i'm surprised you hadn't picked uo a husband after all the time." he held on a little tighter and worked your body against him. the pleasure shot through the both of you which only spurred you on the move faster.

your bucked your hips against his, you felt the inferno in your belly as you held his face and kissed him once more. if he wanted to be in nico's life then you'd allow it. you'd let max be involved, be the father he wanted to be. you thought his trophies were more important, but seeing him, his eagerness to be in nico's life made you realize that he wanted a family, a home. you kissed him once more as the two of you thrusted against one another.

you knew racing would always pull you back in eventually. it had that effect on people. it was infectious, even tucked away in your domestic life. you still sat on the couch with your rambunctious toddler and watched the races at odd hours.

"why do you want a life with me and nico, you could have any-"

"i don't want to hear it. nico deserves a father and you deserve a loving partner... hell, maybe even a husband." he said with total conviction as he moved against you. the pleasure felt like it was going to boil over soon.

you moved against him, eagerness in your movements. you couldn't think of anymore things to prevent max from being part of your family. your movements staggered and you felt the pleasure bloom into something more. you hissed, "fuck," while you moved against him. you felt the inferno in your soul, the need for him in ways you didn't need any other man.

this was the father of your son, and you carried feelings for him just as you carried nico. the combination of you two, the affection you had for one another in a brief moment. it was something you wanted to expand on. you wanted to love max verstappen.

you held onto the father of your child. you came around his cock and arched your back. you felt the fury of lust through your body as you moved against him. you laid a heavy kiss on his lips as your pussy clenched around his cock, "fuck." you said, words muffled by the kiss. max wrapped his strong arms around you and moved against you further. you felt his cock nudge against some of your softest areas and it made you toes curl through climax.

he groaned into the kiss and continued to move against you. a few more heavy strokes and he finished inside of you. he practically melted against you and you smiled against his lips with affection. his brain felt swamped with emotion as he said, "i love you."

and without thinking you replied, "i love you too, max." then kissed him once more with total affection for one another.

max swallowed as he held you as you slowed your pace to a stop. he craned his neck to press his cheek against your soft stomach, "don't leave again... please."

"max." you panted and combed your fingers through his hair. he held onto you tighter as if you were going to slip away.

he said, in a tone you never thought you could hear from a world champion, "don't.. don't leave." this was supposed to be simple. max was a means to a child, but he wanted to be in nico's life. he wanted to be a father.

you wrapped your arms around him and held him close to your abdomen. you exhaled deeply and said, "i don't want to pressure you into being a father... if you're going to be in his life, you're going all in. he needs stability."

max lifted his head to look at you. those blue eyes dazzled in the low light of his hotel room. he held onto you a little tighter, not enough to bruise however. he said, "i'm all in. you, me, and nico." like a promise.

maybe it was the post-orgasm hormones or maybe because you became a tad more in touch with your emotions after having a child. but when max said that, you cried.

-

"go nico! go, go!!!" you shouted as your nine year old sailed past the finish line in first place and you broke into a grin. your husband wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close into a kiss. you laughed into the kiss and said to your husband, "oh man. ow, ow. okay, okay!" you looked down at your swollen middle, "someone isn't happy about the excitement."

"sorry there, little one." max's hand rubbed your swollen middle. his wedding band gleamed in the afternoon light. you were welcoming a son in four months and could already feel the commotion of racing.

you smiled at max for a moment before your son got out of the cart and you were moving as fast as you could to greet him. with his helmet off, you cupped your son's chubby cheeks. he was looking more like max every day, but smashed records the way you did.

you were soon a family of four. you didn't live in your home country and max had moved away from monaco when you got married. max was a good father, as he picked up nico with ease.

"you did amazing, nico. good job!" he beamed at the little boy and the boy beamed back at him. you knew that people shouldn't have children to heal a part of themselves. you learned that when you were pregnant the first time. but when max gave praise to your son, he was giving the young boy the support he never got. that if nico was going to eventually end up in formula one, it wasn't going to be the way that max was brought up.

he'd do it right.

stern when he needed to be. you'd both push nico to be the best, but also give him the love a wide-eyed, chubby cheeked boy needed. and as you leaned down as best as you could to kiss your son on the cheek. you felt like a family. it felt like home.

you were confident that you could've raised both nico and your future son by yourself. but it was an adventure you'd rather share with max. <3

[g4rvez-r3id]

When You’re Lost in the Darkness, Look for the Light

Ex! Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU Reader

Synopsis: Your ex, Spencer Reid, has just lost his girlfriend due to her being murdered. When all else fails with the BAU team helping him get through this loss, the only person left to help is you.

Category: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: established past relationship, maeve arc, takes place after 8x12 “Zugzwang”, mentions of death and suicide, technically an AU for 8x13 “Magnum Opus”, spencer is obviously still mourning maeve, mentions of lauren storyline, mentions of breakups, reader was in a past relationship before spencer, kinda sad, hopeful ending(?) let me know if i missed anything! <3

Author’s Note: i feel like this was a bit rushed, especially towards the end butttt i might make a part two to this- just let me know if i should :)

It’d been a few weeks since what happened. Spencer witnessing his girlfriend being murdered right in front of him by her stalker. You knew that he was taking it hard, of course, who wouldn’t after seeing something like that?

The team had been frequently visiting him. Garcia had stopped by with her ninth gift basket on his doorstep, since he never answered. JJ had offered to bring the boys over to cheer him up but Spencer would never answer. Even Hotch, and Morgan tried to get him to get a breather outside of his apartment but of course, Spencer never answered. Blake and Rossi knew that he needed his space, knowing that a loss like this wasn’t easy.

Everyone on the team had tried, everyone except you. And honestly, why would you? Your breakup with Reid was enough reason not to go and see him.

You two had broken up when he’d found out you’d known about Emily taking her death. (You weren’t even supposed to know about it, you had just stumbled across Hotch and JJ having the conversation after you’d found out that your best friend was dead.) After she’d come back when they had a lead on Ian Doyle’s son, Spencer had later confronted you and told you he couldn’t forgive you for knowing for ten months and not telling him about it.

You expressed just how much it pained you not to tell him but that she couldn’t risk telling him. He had to understand that. Frankly, he didn’t.

And it seemed that he still hadn’t forgiven you since then.

It’d been over a year since you last had a full conversation with him since then, only opting for small talk or only talking when it was relevant to whatever case they were on.

And then you found out about Maeve. There were whispers around the office, Spencer was smiling more in the office, he was secretive and not to mention the case with the payphone that you and Blake took him to after needing answers regarding a case. You and Blake badgered him, wanting answers as to why he was being so secretive.

And then his words confirmed it for you — “Because I don’t want them to know about her, okay?”

And so, he had a girlfriend. And you were perfectly okay with that. Of course, it hurt that he’d moved on but someone had to, eventually, right?

Since then, you had avoided him any chance you had. If you two were alone in the kitchenette, you were the one who left first. If there was a spot on the jet open next to Spencer, you’d offer it to someone else quietly. You figured pushing him away — even professionally — was the best thing you could do for your own mental health.

But then Spencer’s girlfriend had gone missing. And you weren’t exactly forced to work a case but it sure felt like it when Hotch said that you guys would be working on your free time. You had half the mind to walk out of the bullpen right then and there. But then you looked at Spencer. Spencer, who looked like a kicked puppy dog with his sad eyes, messy hair and anxious stance and pleading, begging the team to help find her. And you knew that he’d always be your weakness, no matter what. And you’d like to think that maybe he’d do the same for you if the roles were reversed.

It’d taken a few to discover that Maeve’s stalker was Diane Turner, a research assistant at Mendel University where Maeve used to work. Diane applied and was rejected for a PhD after submitting a doctoral thesis about spontaneous cellular death in suicide patients, due to said thesis being biased as it contained references to her own parents, who’d committed suicide. She targeted Maeve, believing she was the one responsible for rejecting her PhD.

You remembered the minute you heard gunshots in the building, heart dropping at the possibility that it may have been Spencer who was shot at, since he offered to trade himself for Maeve. And thought it was better if the team were to wait outside of the building.

You remembered trying to talk him off the ledge but he simply ignored you and went into the building anyway without a vest.

You remembered Spencer trying to talk Diane down as she held a gun to Maeve’s head and growing anxious at the fact that Diane was getting more and more angry.

You remembered what Maeve spoke to him — her last words — “Thomas Merton, he’s the one you can never take away from us.” The proof of how much she loved him.

You remembered Diane pulling the trigger on herself and Maeve and Spencer’s painful pleading as both Diane and Maeve landed on the ground in a puddle of their own blood.

And you hated it but you remembered Spencer falling to his knees, sobbing over Maeve’s body. You could hardly believe it, even when it happened right in front of you. You’d fallen beside him, hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him the best way possible. And he grabbed your hand. Granted, he probably didn’t know or didn’t care enough to know who it was in that moment, but he took your hand anyways.

And since then, not a word from Spencer. And it was starting to worry the rest of the team.

But when you arrived in the office a few weeks after, staring at Spencer’s empty desk, JJ had spoken up and said — “Everyone else has tried but you. And I think you’re the person he needs right now.”

You’d responded, telling her that you’re probably the last person he wants to see right now in his time of mourning. But JJ had encouraged you. You’d known him in ways the team didn’t. Hell, you dated him. And you also knew what it was like to lose someone you loved.

A few years before you dated Spencer, you had had a boyfriend. You were dating him for three years until he lost his life in a car accident. You were heartbroken from the lost and you didn’t go to work for over a month after. The only person that gotten you through that had been Spencer. He always had a way with words and you remembered him being there for you the entire time you dealt with it. A couple of years later, you and him finally began to date.

And now here you were, standing outside of his apartment, wondering how the hell you got yourself in this mess. You’d told Hotch that you needed to take care of something and that you wouldn’t be joining them on this upcoming case. It was true and it wasn’t like you to just call out of work unless it was an emergency. It technically wasn’t a lie, Spencer was your emergency. And you knew that Hotch would understand.

You’d hesitantly knocked, so quietly. “Spencer? It’s me,” You’d spoken up, your voice hoarse. “I, uh, I know I’m the last person you probably want to talk to right now… but… I’m here. If you need anything, I’m right here.” You assured.

To make your point, you moved two of the gift baskets away from the door so you can plop right down on the floor to sit against the door. “And I’m not going anywhere.” You rested the back of your head against the door. “And we don’t have to talk. We can wait however long you need to. I’ll be here.”

“But, please, give me something so I know that you’re alive in there.” You asked and quietly pleaded, “Please.”

You’d waited thirty seconds before you lost hope entirely and then three soft knocks came from the other side of the door and you smiled to yourself in relief that at least he was conscious.

And soon the minutes turned into hours, with you resting your head against that door and shifting a couple of times to get comfortable. Spencer still hadn’t budged since he’d knocked on the door. You’d taken the opportunity to help yourself to one of Garcia’s gift baskets since Reid hadn’t seemed to claim them. You’d opted for one of the fresher baskets since the others had probably been sitting for about a few weeks now. There was a basket with the mini chocolate chip muffins that you snacked on while sitting there.

And after hours and hours of still waiting there with no peep from Spencer, your eyes began to flutter closed at how sleepy you were getting. Sleeping outside of Spencer’s apartment wasn’t the best place for your back or your neck but you had slept in worse places.

You’d probably succumbed to sleep at least a few hours later until you had a rude awakening involving Spencer finally opening his door.

You hit your head right on the floor, which had woke you up. “Ow.” You muttered and looked up, seeing Spencer’s ghostly figure standing above you. You could’ve sworn you were dreaming. “Spencer?”

“You’re still here?” He asked, confusion in his voice. You finally stood up from the floor and nodded at him to answer as he began to walk away from the door and went back to the couch.

It was then that you got a look at his apartment. There were books on the floor everywhere. If you knew better, you’d say Spencer may have thrown them out of anger, pain. Old takeout boxes on the kitchen counter and living room table. It smelt like death — (but it actually might’ve been Spencer). You had to squint to look around since it’d been so dark. “Oh, Spencer…” You mumbled and turned to him on the couch. He was in a fetal position on the cushions, his hair falling in front of his face with an evident frown engraved on his face. He looked like a fragile child and it ached your heart to see him like that.

You found yourself kneeling in front of him and brushed the hair away from his face — like it was second nature to you. Like you’ve done it before. And you have.

You looked around, wondering what you should do, what you can do. And you finally find something small to start with. “When was the last time you slept in your own bed?” You asked and Spencer didn’t answer. You expected that.

You stood up from kneeling in front of Spencer and walked to his room, grabbing a few clothes — a plain t-shirt, a pair of underwear, plaid pajama pants and a pair of mismatched socks. You then went into the hall closet to pull out a towel and a washcloth for him and walked towards the bathroom to start running the water. He always liked it not too hot or not too cold but just warm enough.

You walked into the living room and found Spencer sitting up on the couch. “Why don’t you hop in the shower? I’ve got it running the way you like it.” It took a few seconds but Spencer nodded at you and began to trudge to the bathroom. He’d left the door a crack and you wondered why he did. But then it occurred to you that maybe he didn’t want to feel quite alone for a minute and you were right there if he needed anything. And he knew you had a guilty conscience, knowing that if he had closed the door and he’d done something to himself, you’d never forgive yourself. And you wouldn’t want him trapping himself in the bathroom either.

As Spencer went into the shower, you’d taken care of the rest of the apartment. You started with opening the blinds to bring some sort of light in and then with the kitchen counter, clearing out all of the old takeout boxes and washing dishes and wiping down the table and putting the books back on the shelves. All except for one. The Narrative of John Smith, it’d been the one book that he was clutching onto the entire time she’d been here until you told him to get into the shower. You knew he needed to put that one away on his own terms.

You fixed the couch up, laying the throw blanket neatly over the couch and then walked to his room, setting up his own bed. Wanting for him to be as comfortable as possible.

When he finally exited the bathroom, you didn’t hear him. You hadn’t heard his footsteps as he looked around the living room, seeing how you tidied up the place while he was in the shower. He almost thought you left, until he heard your humming from the other room. You were singing to yourself, a habit you picked up often doing casual things like laundry or spring cleaning. He missed the nonchalance of your presence and as he walked towards the door and found you making his bed, he missed it even more. Missed you even more.

You finally noticed that you weren’t alone, looking up to see him in the doorway and you smiled towards him. “Oh, hi.” You said and he walked into the room, looking down at his newly made bed. “Are you feeling better?”

He didn’t answer verbally, just shrugged.

You didn’t know what to say to that. Instead, you look down at his perfectly made bed and say, “Why don’t you get some rest?”

Spencer nods at you weakly and gets under the covers. You almost want to tuck him in, like he’s a child, but you refrain from doing so. You look down at him and felt like you’ve done everything you could for him. Made sure he showered, tidied his apartment. Surely he’s sick of you being here now.

You ease the awkward tension, sucking in a breath and patting your knees. “Well… I’m just… gonna… see myself out. Get all of the rest you can, Spencer. No rush to come back, just take your time.” You assure finally and silently plead him to ask you to stay longer. Because you don’t exactly feel accomplished at the fact that you haven’t done anything except ask him to take a shower and clean his apartment. It didn’t really feel like a win. Instead, you felt more heartbroken for Spencer.

And somehow, by some miracle, you felt him grab your hand and you turned to face him and his gleaming eyes. “Can you…” The words trailed off from his lips as he stares into your eyes. “Can you stay?” You look at him, with wide eyes. It was like he read your mind. “Please?”

You look at him and try to maintain your composure as much as you can. Because this is the first time he’s asked you to stay the night since you two were together. “Yeah, of course, Spencer.”

He moves towards the other side of the bed to make room for you and you’re shocked by the gesture. You hadn’t shared a bed with him since you were together, either. You sit up against the headboard and he gravitates towards your thigh, resting his head on it and closes his eyes and your hand finds his hair, running a hand through it and trying to maintain his curls at the back of his neck.

Then, you remember. You look towards the drawer next to the bed on your side and wonder. You open the drawer and sure enough, there it was. The brown comb you left behind. You often used it to brush his hair, especially when it was shaggy down his shoulders and he’d often rest his head on your thigh like he was doing now and you’d run your hand through his locks until you’d finally bought a comb. It surprised you that he still kept it. You would’ve thought it ended up in his ‘Y/n box’ like how everything of his ended up in your ‘Spencer box’.

And like second nature, you began to brush his damp locks with the comb, trying your best to angle your arm to not interrupt his rest. You softly smiled at the scene, his eyes closed and nose scrunching every few minutes or so.

You’d suspected that maybe he’d fallen asleep to you combing his hair because his breathing evened and he was quiet with his eyes still remaining closed. But you still found yourself still combing through his hair despite getting the tangles all out.

“I miss her,” He admitted and for a moment, you stopped your movements, not only because his words shocked you but also because you thought he was asleep. “I miss Maeve.” He added and you notice as his lip quivers at his own mention of his dead girlfriend and you do everything in your power to keep your lip from doing the same.

“I know.” You say, your voice so soft and nurturing as you continued to comb through his hair.

Spencer doesn’t say anything else but you were glad he’d spoken out just what he was feeling in that moment. You lean against the headboard, wishing to say more but what Spencer really needed right now was someone in his corner, not someone who wanted to give their own opinion about the situation or relate to him — just someone to listen to him.

You continue brushing until you finally decide that his hair is silky smooth and place the comb on the table next to you and look down at his resting face and instead of the frown you’d seen earlier, you finally see some sort of look of peace. Of course, the sadness is still etched on him from a mile away. But you glad to grant him some form of peace in a time where he’s most desperate of it.

You begin to run your hand through his hair, massaging his scalp like you often used to do when you were together. And for a moment, it’s like you two are dating again and it’s like it’s casual, like you’ve done this before — which you have. But it’s been so long, you never thought you’d be in this position again.

Eventually, he falls asleep on your thigh and his soft breathing is more even than it was before and his mouth is slightly parted as he sleeps. And you don’t care about the crick you’re going to get in your neck from this headboard, you don’t care that your leg is dead and that your pant leg is slightly damp from his wet hair. What matters more than anything right now is him getting the rest he deserves.

And what mattered more than anything and your goal was that Spencer was going to fight through this gaping hole of darkness and find his light eventually. And somewhere deep down inside of you, though you’d never admit it out loud — you hoped that that light was you.

[rebelliousstories]

Magical Relationships

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader, Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Reader (Platonic)

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by @oh-prettylady

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst

Word Count: 1,466

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: He had spent so long looking for her, only to find that she was closer than ever suspected.

Consider Donating: Here

If there was one thing that Gambit always asked for whenever he could, it would forever be a relationship of his own. He had seen Jean and Scott fall in love, witnessed Beast try himself; hell, everyone he knew had tried. But for some reason, Jean and Scott were the only ones that made it work. But Remy wanted that. He wanted his own lady to call his, to love, and to spoil. When he came back from a mission one day, he got his wish.

A beautiful girl around his age had shown up with the Wolverine. She was shy, only sticking near the burly man, and not speaking to just about anyone. But she was gorgeous, sweet and kind. Her ability to transform into any animal she wished never ceased to amaze Remy when they were in the danger room.

Slowly but surely, she began warming up to the other, but not Gambit. She was still hesitant around him, refusing to say more than a few words to him. It threw the Cajun for a loop the first few times he tried to flirt with her.

“My, my, my, chere. Ya face would look so much prettier up close, ya know? Just close enough for a kiss perhaps.” This caused her to flush red.

“How’s about you and me go and paint the town red tonight, chere?” She turned to Logan for help who kindly told the man she was off limits.

“Oh, I’m feelin’ awfully weak, chere. I hear ya kisses are magic though. How’s about one for ya patient, yeah?” Turning to scamper off was her course of action for this.

Each time he tried to flirt with her, she refused. Maybe he was coming off too strong for her. He knew very little about her backstory when she came to the school. So, Remy decided to switch tactics. He tried to bond with her over something, anything. But they seemed to have very little in common. But he was desperate to have her talk to him in any way they could.

After a few weeks of this, Gambit made very little leeway in his attempt to talk with her. It was not until Logan decided to go off on his own again that he finally got a break. This was not how he wanted it to start, but it was how it happened. Remy had found her staring out of a window towards the road in the school on a day off for them.

“You miss da Wolverine, chere?” He asked quietly. She got a bit spooked, jumping in her seat, and went to leave.

“No, no. I didn’ mean t’ make ya scared. I can leave if ya want.” Holding his hands up, Gambit tried to make himself appear as non threatening as possible to the woman. But what she did next shocked him.

She shook her head, and patted the sot next to her in the window. Waiting, Remy tried to see what exactly she meant, which was met with her patting the spot once more. At her insistence, he made his way over, and slumped down into his seat.

“I just really miss him, you know?” She began, still staring. “He took care of me when I had no one around. It’s hard being without him, not knowing where he is or if he’s alive.”

“Oh, chere. Don’t worry ‘bout it. The Wolverine will come back soon. Besides, I’m pretty sure that man lives purely off of spite, so he be fine.” Remy tried to comfort the girl, but only felt like he was causing her more discomfort.

“You’re right,” she spoke after a brief silence, “Logan will be okay. He’ll come back.” Looking out the window, she looked towards the road once more before turning to the mutant to her right.

“I love your eyes, by the way.” This time, it was Gambit’s turn to be bashful. His face blushed something fierce as he turned away from her. He could only hope that she did not see what was happening to his face, or the smile that appeared on his face.

“You flatter Ol’ Gambit. Ain’t do nothin’ to deserve it.” He stammered out, hoping that she would let it go. But to his fortune, and mis. Fortune, she did not.

Her giggles rang out through the small nook that they were tucked away in, and Gambit turned to face her fully. Even he was not immune to her infectious laughter. Soon, he was joining her in his own deep chuckles that boomed out next to hers. After a few minutes, they began to wind down. And as he looked over at her from across the windowsill, Remy thought something to himself.

This might just work out.

After that night, it was like a flip had been switched. Instead of constantly being shy, and running away from the Cajun, she had begun to enjoy his company. She was enjoying a cup of tea with him in the morning while he made his coffee. In the evenings, she would make a bowl of ice cream for each of them to enjoy in front of the fire in the main study room.

And all through this, they grew closer. Remy’s flirting no longer made her anxious, it excited her. She still had yet to get over her blushing and shyness when he did so, but she was no longer running away which he considered a win in his books. Gambit so badly wanted to properly ask her out; it burned within him. But he had to contend with Logan coming after him.

Oh, he was well aware that the Wolverine would just give him the tough love act, but that did not make it any less intimidating to ask her pseudo-father for permission. It also did not help that the man was currently somewhere that they at the school could not reach him. So for the time being, Gambit was sticking to making her blush like a school girl at every chance he got.

Remy loved the challenge of getting her to blush harder and harder each time. Sometimes, it was the fact that it was in front of the other team members. Other times, it was because of what he had actually said. One particular instance stands out better than the rest.

“Chere, jus’ need t’ ask ya somethin’. Will you Brie mine?” Remy drawled out as he leaned against the counter. Storm, Beast, and Cyclops were sitting at the table nearby and actively listening to what was coming next.

“Don’t you ever get tired of thinking up different pickup lines to use on me?” She teased back, finishing her making of food at the stove.

“Ain’t no trouble to the Gambit if he has t’ think of you. So whatcha say?” There was quiet laughter coming from the table nearby.

“Can I at least have my breakfast first?” Her tone was teasing, even if her words were annoyed.

“Never too early to start the greatest love story ever.”

“Sometimes it is.” The laughing stopped. Gambit stopped in his tracks, and was afraid to turn and face the voice behind him.

“Logan, you’re back!” Her plate was quickly abandoned in favor for wrapping her arms around his neck. His own found a home wrapped around her back before they pulled away.

“Missed me, kid?” A smirk toyed at the edge of his lips.

“Maybe a little.” She admitted; a smile of her own forming on her lips.

“Now, what was this I hear about you wanting to ask the kid out, Cajun?” Logan near growled in his low-rumbling voice.

“Now, Mon Ami, jus’ remember is just Gambit.” He stammered out, holding his hands up defensively. The Wolverine placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to stop what he was saying immediately.

“Treat her right, or you’re turning into a kebab. I’m going to unpack and go to bed.” Passing the girl on his way back to his room, Logan gave her one last pat on the shoulder and left. There was a stunned silence that enveloped the entire room as everyone tried to process the events that had just unfolded.

“So, Remy,” she began with a teasing tone, “something you wanna ask me?”

He could not speak. The smooth talking Cajun was speechless after that interaction. But once he began to recover, a smirk overtook his rugged features. He walked up closer to the woman and placed a hand back on the counter.

“Will you go out with me, chere?” Remy finally asked her.

“Of course, Gambit. Besides, I have a man waiting to turn you into a kebab if you mess up.” She began to laugh, but the color started drawing from his face once more.

[kana-daydreams]

𝐚 𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 || 𝐙𝐨𝐫𝐨

summary: zoro decides just for your sake and his, for once, to allow himself to express a feeling he’d long buried inside him after Kuina’s death—and a feeling he’s only ever had for you. genre: mild angst, fluff cw: none wc: 3.2k

I love you.

Settled atop the crow’s nest dome- shaped roof of the Thousand Sunny, Zoro’s dark-brown eyes dart open to meet splotches of fluffy white painted across a canvas of endless blue.

A gentle breeze rustles his clothes and threads through his mint-green hair as he lays with his back pressed flat against the roof’s surface,  head cushioned by his arms, while his gaze continues to follow the clouds lazily gliding across the sky.

I love you.

Zoro clicks his tongue when he hears the words teasing melody continue to play in his head.

Words that had repeated its haunting every daylight, and every nightfall.

Words you’d confessed to him weeks ago—and words he had thought would be your last.

Why did you do it? 

Zoro still relives the moment when he watched your body go limp in his arms, crimson red trailing its way down in gushing streams from the wound in your torso.

Why did you risk your life to save his?

A question that lingered along with your confession deep within his mind during the couple of weeks you’d remained a victim of sleep.

A furrow lines Zoro’s brows, deepening as he unwillingly recalls the urgent scream of your voice calling his name, followed by the sound of steel tearing through flesh and then the painful sight of your body collapsing, motionless, in a pool of red.

After the tragic occurrence, day after day, Zoro would visit you inside the sick bay. It was a difficult task at first, seeing your comatose state, but he made it part of his daily routine to check up on you. And assisted Chopper where he could, sometimes spending the entire day by your side and wishing that you would just open your damn eyes.

And during that time he spent with you and without you, he prayed. 

Zoro never believed there was a god but yet, for you—he did. 

Like a devout believer, day in and day out, he prayed and hoped for a miracle. 

Hoped that some god— any god—would hear his prayer and that you would awake from your seemingly endless sleep. 

Though when a couple of weeks had flitted past and you showed no signs of waking up, the little faith he’d mustered started to wane. 

Waned until like a flame drawn down to a single spark of light left with nothing to fuel its burn, it extinguished.

But today Zoro’s flame reignites.

At the sound of Chopper's crying voice, Zoro’s body bolts upright, his eyes drawing wide when he hears him announce in between sniffles and hiccups, that you’re awake.

And in an instant, he’s on his feet. 

And in an instant, his legs carry him with desperate steps towards the direction of the sick bay, Zoro thinking to himself, despite his once wavering belief—for the first time—a god really just might exist.

“Nami, Robin— you guys are going to hurt her!” Chopper’s worried voice warns the two women hugging the life out of you—literally, Chopper thinks.

“Okay, just one more hug.” Nami snivels, long tears rolling down her cheeks as she gives you one last squeeze before she and Robin unwrap their arms from around you, moving to stand amongst the rest of the crew huddled around your bed.

Your eyes scan each of their tear-stained faces like your own, at the same time searching for the perpetual stone-cold expression of Zoro’s, your heart sinking when there’s no sight of it. 

“I’m so happy to see everyone.” You manage a weak smile, brushing off the disappointed feeling at the swordsman’s absence, and instead focus on the wide smiles, happy tears and collective expressed words of happiness and relief of your long-awaited recovery.

For the next hour or so, the sick bay’s room is permeated with mirthful chatter and laughter until Chopper starts kicking everyone out, informing them of your much needed rest.

“I don’t understand? Why would she need more sleep?” Luffy who sits cross-legged at the foot of your bed asks with a genuinely confused expression. “She’s been sleeping for we—” he’s interrupted when Nami grabs a hold of one of his ears and forcefully starts dragging him out of the room, the scene making a small laughter bubble up your chest.

Luffy’s painful groans and complaining voice drowns out when the door clicks close behind them, and with solitude now your only company, your mind is left to idle.

To idle on the memory of Zoro.

To idle on the memory of his mortified features as he held your form, drenched in blood, close to his chest. And the prominent picture of hurt mixed in with other indiscernible emotions that crossed his face when you confessed your years-long harboured love for him, just before your vision turned dark.

You can’t help but wonder exactly what he thought during that moment of your untimely confession, as you absent-mindedly reach your hands under the hem of your shirt, smoothing it along the rough scar that lines across your stomach. A reminder of the small price you had to pay in exchange for the life of the one you’d always cherished with your whole heart, and the one your eyes longed to see the moment you’d opened your eyes.

A sudden rap at the door pulls you out of your thoughts and you rasp out a “You can come in!” wondering if Chopper had returned to check up on you.

However, when the door cracks open, instead of the doctor, it reveals the familiar figure of the man you’ve yearned to see. 

You watch as he steps into the room, your eyes catching his steely expression which immediately melts at the sight of you. 

Zoro closes the door behind him and wordlessly approaches your bedside, neither of your gazes unyielding from the other. That is until his eyes flicker down to your hand still settled on your exposed stomach, the muscles in his jaw becoming visibly tense.

There’s a silence that settles between you both. One that is equally tense and you can’t help but attempt to lighten the mood.

“Fell asleep again or forgot I existed?” You quirk a brow, a teasing lilt carried in your tone. “I’m placing my bet on the first one.” You chuckle.

 “It’s none.”

Your laughter simmers down when you look up to see that Zoro’s features are void of any hint of amusement.  

“Oh? Then…” 

“I wanted us alone.” He explains and your head tilts in curiosity at his words.

 “Alone?”

“Yeah. We need to talk.”  

You ponder on what he says. On what the topic of discussion might entail that he didn’t want the others around. And in a second or two, when an answer suddenly dawns on you—that it might be about your declaration of love— you feel a faint touch of warmth caress your cheeks.

Shyly, you pat a hand beside you on the mattress. A motion for him to have a seat. 

Zoro takes you up on your offer, joining you on the small bed after removing his swords which he settled in a nearby corner of the room.

“So, what you wanna talk about?” You ask as you feel the bed sink under you from his added weight.

Zoro takes his time to form an answer as his eyes examine you for a bit: the healthy gleam of your skin, the vibrant light in your eyes, and the way your lips curl into that beautiful smile he’d longed missed.

And the longer he takes to respond, the more your heart races in anticipation.

“How do you feel?” He finally asks.

You pout. It isn’t what you expected, but his concern for your well-being at the same time isn’t a surprise.

“A little woozy and tired. But Chopper said I’ll feel better with a little more rest.”

“Right…rest.” Zoro murmurs to himself.

He had been more than determined to see you as soon as he watched the others leave your room that he didn’t consider the toll their long visit had probably taken on you.

“Then you should get some.” He stands to his full height, ready to make his departure, only to be stopped by a sudden and gentle tug on his shirt. 

He peers over his shoulder, looking down to see your fingers gripping onto its hem, your face creased with worry.

“Please Zo, don’t leave.” You plead. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

You’d noticed it in his tense expression—that what he wanted to discuss carried a heavy weight on his shoulders, though you weren’t exactly sure what it might be if not your confession.

“You need to rest.” Zoro urges.

“I won’t be able to unless you tell me what’s bothering you.”

Your persistence and stubbornness is no surprise to Zoro. He knows all too well that your words are true, and stands there conflicted with your hand still glued to his shirt, before momentarily releasing a deep sigh as he relents to entertaining your request.

You watch as he seats himself near you once more. “Tell me Zo. What is it?” You prompt when a lull falls, lingering between you two. 

Zoro’s eyes sweep down to where your hands lay before flitting up to meet your worried eyes. “Why…” He pauses for a beat as if gathering his thoughts, before he pieces together the rest of his words; finally asking the question, though not in full, that has been long weighing on his mind. “Why did you do it?” 

Your brows wrinkle, confused. “Do what?”

When his gaze leaves your own and you notice it drops down to your stomach, you immediately come to comprehend the meaning behind his words.

“Because I wanted to.” A smile pulls at your lips. 

A smile that makes Zoro’s hands, unnoticeably to you, ball into fists.

A couple of weeks ago, you were on the brink of death because of him and now you’re here, smiling warmly up at him, saying that you didn’t mind that you’d almost die!

Zoro’s fingers curl, digging deeper into the palm of his hands.

He’s happy—overjoyed, though his features mask the feeling—that you’re okay and that he gets the chance to see your smiling face again. But what if he had lost you?

What if he had lost you, just like he lost…

Zoro shoots up to his feet, your fingers hold on his shirt, ripping away.

 “You’re leaving.” 

His sudden burst of words leave you to stare dumbfoundedly at him as he walks over to the side of the room where his swords lay, propped up against the wall.

“What do you mean ‘you’re leaving’?”

Zoro faces your direction once he’s finished securing his swords to his hip. “As soon as we dock at the nearest town, you’re getting off.” The tone of his voice hints that there's no room for an argument.

 You gape up at him. “You can’t be serious.”

This wasn’t the first time, the second nor the third, that Zoro had tried to get you to leave the ship—and to leave their crew.

He’d wanted you long gone since the day Luffy’d recruited you and tried his earnest to get the boy to throw you off the ship. 

Figuratively of course.

“I thought we were past that phase. Aren’t you tired of trying to get rid of me?”

“Not, exactly.” Zoro says and you purse your lips, brows knitting into a frown at his curt and honest reply.

 “Well like I’ve told you countless times, Roronoa. I'm not leaving.” 

Zoro gives a subtle flinch when you refer to him by his family name instead of the nickname you’d called him since you were children. He then releases a deep sigh meeting your defiant gaze. “Being a pirate isn’t child’s play.” He ends with your name. “It’s dangerous.”

“And, what? You think I don’t know that.” You cross your arms, eyes narrowing. 

You were aware that like the others,  Zoro was worried about you. But you were here because of your own volition. Not his. A fact you verbally express.

“I’m not a little girl, Roronoa.” You say, voice stern. “I’m an adult. Meaning, I make my own choices.”

Zoro scoffs, almost mockingly at your words. “Yeah, choices that almost left you in a permanent coma, sleeping beauty.”

“I was only trying to protect you.” You feel yourself becoming more pissed, for  lack of a better word, at his retort. “You could have died if I didn’t—”

“I ain’t no weakling. I could’ve taken it.” He argues back.

“You don't know that, you arrogant seaweed!” 

Zoro was strong. Inhumanly strong. A verifiable truth you’d always known. But like any other human being, he was still mortal—and all mortals bleed. All mortals die.

Seaweed?! Zoro’s brows furrow, the muscles in his face twitching. He then heaves a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look…” he starts, voice much mellow than before. “You’re not a pirate. You’re not me and you’re not Luffy—you’re not like any of us.”

Zoro watches as your expression morphs into a reflection of hurt at his words—and it aches him. But his words are somewhat of the truth. You aren’t like any of them. You don’t have raw strength or devil fruit powers to protect yourself nor are you cautious when faced with life-threatening situations, choosing to tackle those situations head on without much of a drop of hesitation.

And that’s what scared him the most. 

“It'd be best if you just go back home where it’s safe.” Zoro finishes, eyes meeting anywhere but your gaze.

“So that’s the real reason you don't want me around?” Your fingers clench around the sheet wrapped around you. “Because I’m weak?” 

“That’s not what I mea–”

“Then what do you mean, huh! Zoro Roronoa.” Your eyes well with unshed tears and your voice cracks as you choke back a sob. “Why is it that you keep trying to get rid of me?” 

Your question is only met with silence, as Zoro continues to keep his mouth sealed.

“Is it because I’m a burden?”

You weakly voice a thought that’d always remained rampant in your mind since the day Zoro vanished a few years later after Kuina’s death, leaving you only a single letter explaining his aspiration and his pursuit of becoming the world’s greatest swordsman along with a stern warning that you never attempt to search for him.

You’d adhere to his wishes which brought with it many sleepless nights, especially when you thought you would never see him again. 

Fortunately, by a stroke of luck, you’d managed to cross paths when you stumbled upon him wandering around like a lost puppy back in one of the towns you usually frequented for selling your goods. And after your fateful reunion, spurred on by what’ve been years of friendship blossomed into unrequited love, you decided to join Zoro in his ambition—and the rest of the straw hats who’d unexpectedly and without a doubt become your home: your family.

“...It is. Isn’t it?” You say when you notice him tense at your assumption.

“No it is’n—”

“Then what is it!” Your voice consumed by a mixture of anger, sadness and disappointment bounces off the walls of the room. “At least tell me why?” 

Zoro looks across at you and a pained expression shadows his face when he sees droplets of tears rain from your eyes, wetting your cheeks, falling and seeping into the white sheets clutched in your grasp.

“Why do you want me to leave?” You continue. “Why don't you want me to be a part of your life?” Some of your words get caught up in an uncontrollable storm of hiccups and sobs. “... and I promise Zoro. Tell me why and I promise I’ll leave.”

Zoro was never one to be emotionally transparent. You know that. But you wanted to know why… 

Why is it that he was so determined—eager to make you leave? 

Why is it that he was so eager to drive you away like you were never a part of his life? And him, never a part of yours.

Silence permeates the room as Zoro’s lips remain sealed shut like before, and as it prolongs so does your impatience.

“If you’re not gonna answer, then go.” You breathe out a weak sigh, feeling new tears starting to emerge. “I’ll leave just like you ask, so just get ou—.” 

“‘Cause I love you.” Zoro mumbles out in a rush, that you barely register what he says.

You blink away the tears, directing your attention over at him, more precisely his back.  “What…did you say?”

Zoro’s face contorts into a frown, heat burning at his cheeks. “I said…” He grits his teeth, finding it cruel that you were making him repeat such cloying words. “...I l-love you, you idiot.” He stammers out and you notice his ears tinge a dark red.

Your heart stutters at his unanticipated confession, words you’d been longing and hoping to hear for years—and words which render you speechless.

“S-say somethin’” Zoro practically begs, growing increasingly embarrassed by your lack of a reaction, still keeping his body pointed in the opposite direction.

You shake yourself out of your surprised state. “You love me?” You ask as heat fans across your face. “Then…why do you keep pushing me away?”

“..Because you’re reckless.”

Your face contorts into a slight grimace, feeling somewhat offended by his words. “I am not reckless.” You retort, regretting it when he starts to recount childhood memories and those of late, that bear witness to his claim. 

Though those events couldn’t compare to the one that almost made him lose you.

The room descends into utter silence when Zoro finishes, leaving you with your head drooped down in embarrassment which had seeped in bit by bit during his narration of your every rash act.

 “I can’t…” 

You raise your head slowly to look across at Zoro whose voice punctuates the silence. And your heart sinks when you hear the subtle crack of his voice.

“I can’t...” He repeats, pausing for a moment before continuing. “I–we lost her. You—” Zoro grits his teeth, clenching his eyes tightly from the growing pain in his chest. “I don’t wanna lose you.”

To Zoro, you are his everything.

The woman who holds the entirety of his heart in the palm of her hands; all he has that reminds him of home—and a reason other than his promise with Kuina to become the world's greatest swordsman.

Zoro’s hands ball into fists as he feels a burning sensation settle behind his eyes. “I can’t lose you t—” 

The words that pained to leave his lips are cut short, when Zoro feels arms wrap, snug around his torso, a soft and familiar body pressing against his back.

“I’m right here, Zo.” You reassure with tears and soft whimpers. “I’m here. And I’m alive.”

Zoro’s heart pounds violently against his chest when you hug him closer to your body, as if trying to prove to him you were real and not  just a figment of his imagination.

To your surprise, Zoro turns around and captures you in a tight embrace. “I know…” He presses a light kiss to your hair, letting it linger for a second, before settling his chin atop the crown of your head. “And about what’ve said before. Forget about it.” He says, as your soft sobs continue to fill the room. “I…I don’t want you to leave.” 

“You mean it?” You quiver out.

“Yeah.” He replies. “Just please, promise me you’ll be more careful.”

Your eyes flutter close as you snuggle closer into his warmth. “I will. I promise.” You say, both of you, unknown to the other, making a silent vow to become stronger.

Stronger for each other.

© 2024 kana-daydreams

[peppertoastuniverse]

more than a late night snack: – gojo satoru chapter 3: green tea

contents: gojo satoru x reader, tw!ptsd, swearing, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF, satoru being down bad and not knowing it yet, satoru not being good at feelings summary:  after trying to cheer you up after a bad day, gojo starts to wonder what these growing new feelings towards you mean.

wc: 2.5k

oh no. were you crying? did he make you – now gojo really didn’t like this, he’s almost panicking, heart racing to an unfamiliar rhythm. he winces, “shit, babe.” refusing to meet his eyes, you wordlessly shake your head.

previous chapter ll master list ll next chapter

you will yourself to unclench your jaw as you rustle into your pockets to fish out your loose change. today was just not your day – after a week of decent sleep you had your first setback in the form of a vivid nightmare that frustratingly did not allow to you go back to sleep. sighing, you add some coins into the machine and press the buttons on the right side to select your favourite bottle of green tea.

grinding your teeth while you shake off the residual panic that’s rooted within your subconscious waiting at the vending machine for your drink to dispense. you were making progress – the nightmares weren’t happening as frequently but you were getting frustrated at your slow progress. sure, other students had nightmares but never as bad as yours were.  were you that weak that you couldn’t fight off your own imagination? if only you had moved quicker, fought harder … maybe everyone wouldn’t have died and you – 

you shook your head at imposing thoughts and impatiently rubbed your temple to calm down the consistent migraine you had. at least the green tea would awaken your drained head and provide some relief from your racing thoughts. you breath hitches as you watch in slow motion as your bottle of green gets jams against the glass of the vending machine.

you blink, biting your lip. luck was not on your side today.

 you sighed heavily, feeling tears at your waterline. oh god, you were going to cry. okay, okay. that’s okay, you just needed to recollect yourself, right? no biggie, it happens, it’s not the end of the worl–

“ooooooh fuck, babe that’s unlucky,” says a sing song voice from behind you.

not this, not now, not gojo.

you unfortunately hear his cheeky smile before you see him. if you were having a bad day and satoru gojo showed up, it was just about to get worse. creeping into your peripheral vision you see messy white hair, dark sunglasses and an infuriating grin. if you turned around you weren’t sure if you were going to yell at him or burst into tears, so you clenched your fists, shut your eyes and hoped he got the hint to leave you alone. you at least hoped that geto was with him, at least if his trainer was there the blue eye beast would be more tolerable.

but luck was not on your side, only hearing one set of foot steps drawing closer and closer, you hold back an audible groan. you shut your eyes tighter around the sound of his voice, hoping that the darkness would smoother his presence. if you cried here – in front of him – you would die of embarrassment. you knew that he would never let you live it down. he still teased you that time you cried when you ate something too spicy after a mission with ieri and geto 4 months ago.

“- last time, it took like 6 colas to unlodge my original cola from this piece of shit. suguru practically died laughing. this one’s the worst,” he said banging his fist on the side of the vending machine hopelessly. “ya gotta go to the one near the gym, babe!  that one is waaaaay newer and better stocked too, but i mean shoko keeps hogging all the strawberry milk. i mean… i guess– we could also just break on the vending machine if-“

yikes. how long had he been talking?

you sigh and finally open your eyes to find him animatedly talking, hand on his hip, other hand on his chin, looking closely into the machine - nose almost touching the glass - trying to figure out a plan to get your bottle of green tea out. if you were stronger or if you had less pride you’d admit that it was almost endearing.

“- or I could- hey? babe? how come you never listen to me???” gojo turns to look at your vacant expression, his lower lip jutting out exaggeratedly, blue eyes burning bright with a tinge of annoyance.

shit, he caught you.

you sigh trying to drain the increasing flow of water in your eyes. “im just having a bad day, gojo. sorry,” you say sheepishly.

gojo eyes widen to take in your appearance, you slightly hunched shoulders, cheeks flushed at being caught. wait.. were your eyes more watery than usual? rims with a tinge of red, eyebrows downcast, you were fidgeting with your fingers unable to look at him in the eye. something explodes in gojo. did.. did he make you upset?

oh no.

the thought of him being the cause of your sadness almost made him want to throw up. he did not like this at all. but.. why was he feeling this way? maybe he needed a cold drink too. or- or maybe.. was it the tea that was the cause of your reaction? oh god, did he have to fight a bottle of green tea? he was one of the strongest he could do it; he’d definitely break the machine in half to get it for you, he would if that���s what you wanted. is that what you wanted? hell, he’d buy you green tea everyday - he’d buy out every store in Tokyo for you if it meant you’d smile.

he was a good friend - he’d do the same for Suguru or shoko, right? he just wanted you to be happy. but when you turn your back to him, gearing up to make an escape, he feels something else drop in his stomach.

“hey - hey it’s okay! i’m not mad, i swear,” he says moving closer to you, awkwardly bumping your shoulder with his.

perhaps it was the combination of his unusual sweetness and the acknowledgment of your fragile state, you feel your eyes grow misty once more. why was he so infuriating? you didn’t want to deal with him, you didn’t want to hear his taunts or his obnoxious comments. you didn’t have the headspace to come up with a witty response or to roll your eyes at him right now. but luck was not on your side today.

 attempting to save yourself from the embarrassment from him seeing your threatening tears fall, you begrudgingly lean your forehead gojo’s shoulder, nose facing his arm conveniently hiding your face. why did embarrassing moments always happen when he was around? you hated it but the need to hide, to disappear was far greater. you sniff softly.

realisation widens his blue eyes. oh no.

were you crying?  did he make you – now gojo really didn’t like this, he’s almost panicking, heart racing to an unfamiliar rhythm.

he winces, “shit, babe.” refusing to meet his eyes, you wordlessly shake your head.

c’mon keep it together. gojo can’t see you like this. “i-is this about the green tea- like it’s not your fault! the machine does that all the time, you didn’t break it or anything! it’s just like – “ “c-can you just.. just shut up for a sec.. please,” the weariness and fatigue coating your words. you sniff, fully succumbing to your bad day, hands moving quickly to rub the tears that lightly fall from your heavy eyes. gojo immediately quiets – a rare sight. fidgeting with his hands, he’s at a loss for what to do. you’re so close, so willingly close to him. your skin is comfortably warm and he’s surprised at how pleased he is that you’ve chosen to get close to him.

he raises his hand and pats your head as he listens to your breathing, trying to offer some semblance of comfort to you even if he knew that you wouldn’t fully accept it from him.

your eyes shut, unconsciously you lean into his soft touch. it felt nice, almost reassuring. “..what’s going on, babe?” he asks quietly, not wanting to upset you more than you already were.

“im.. im not babe.” he hears you muffle against his shoulder, voice still raspy with an abundance of unshed tears. “ and .. my head isn't for patting.”

gojo snorts and makes a point of fluffing your hair to your annoyance.  “yes, you are,” he mumbles, uncharacteristically gentle, his hand stilling on top of your head.

“are you… are you okay?” he asks, concern in his voice. this new sense of helplessness from you was strange to him. even that night when you made udon together, you were out of it but you were still composed albeit exhausted. you’ve always had a bit of fight, but today your meekness and defeated tone started to make him worry.

“i.. i’m just…” you say as you struggle to find the words, unwilling yourself to vocalize your weakness to him. “..i’m not sleeping well," you put simply.

“how come?” he takes his large hand off of your head, instead moving to unconsciously play with a lock of your hair.

“… thinking too much, i guess.” fragile voice threatening to crack. you clear your throat swiftly. “i’ll be fine.”

gojo’s hand settles behind your neck, his warm hands offering a strange and new comfort. he stares at you with a look that you don’t understand, his blue eyes shining. was it understanding or knowing gojo.. pity?

you flush. you detach yourself from him and turn your back swiftly to hide yourself from him. hopefully you’d disappear if he didn’t look at you.

“y’know you don’t have to do that, right?”

you turn slightly angle your head to look back at him with a questioning stare. what is he getting at? “well.. you always hide.“ he states plainly like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “you don’t have to hide with me.”

you blink, red rimmed eyes not looking at his face, instead choosing to focus on the ground beneath him. you weren’t used to gojo being like this towards you, but maybe –

“..and ‘member, babe? six eyes i’ll catch it anyway, so don’t even bother trying- ” yeah he ruins everything. you shoot him the most murderous look you could muster.

getting the hint, he backtracks quickly “..uhhh I just mean, i'm – we’re here for you, you know? shoko, suguru and me. but since i’m the best -“ “nope. you’re at the bottom of that list.”

“wha- the bottom?” he gapes at you disbelievingly, hand over his quickly beating heart. “nuh uh! wait whose at the top then?! don’t tell me that it’s sug-“

you chuckle at his playfulness, you found amusement in seeing him all worked up. his eyes would blaze brightly, slender nose scrunched up, plump lips sculpting into a pout.. he was ridiculous. tilting your head up, your eyes finally meeting blue.

there was so much you wanted to say to him, but you settled on something that nicely encompassed everything:

“you’re so dumb, gojo.”

gojo slowly blows air out of his nose, he swallows his whines and instead pouts slightly at your comment. good this was good, if you were being mean to him then things were getting better - you were feeling better. calling your name he gestures you closer to the vending machine. you follow slowly, unsure of his intent. he inches closer to you, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating off his lanky frame and the fresh smell of his shampoo.  

did this guy know the concept of personal space? why was he so close?

“i’ll get your tea out for you. i can blue the machine if you want! or-or I can –” he says with an easy grin.

your cheeks twitch up, threatening to smile. “you’d blow up my drink then you idiot,” you say voice infinitesimally stronger now, tone more playful.

“yeah, but if i were you i’d want revenge!”

“what, on the machine?” your eyes roll before looking down at your green tea bottle still hopelessly stuck. just like you were.

“dude of course! the bastard stole your green tea!  let’s fuck it up!” his eyebrows wiggle, bright blue laced with mischief.

you snort. “you’re crazy, gojo. if you want to burn some energy go spar with suguru!”

“what, him?” his nose wrinkles at your first name basis with his best friend – and not him. “why ask him when you’re here already? but y’know, i feel like we’d make a good team don’t ya think? we could do some damage together!”  if you didn’t want to tell him exactly what was going on, he could take your mind off whatever is making you upset, it’d be a win. and he always wins.  

“i’m not fighting the vending machine.” you deadpan, fingers coming to pinch your nose bridge, exasperation eclipsing sadness.

“what, babe? you don’t think I’d win???” gojo incredulously whines.

“are you seriously asking me that question right now?”

“all im hearing is that you don’t think i’d win against a cheating vending machine!!” gojo huffs dramatically, crossing his arms and turning away from you.

you fully laugh. his ears perk up happily at the noise, he bounces on his feet while mentally patting himself on the back. he made you laugh –  perhaps luck was on his side today.

he claps his hands suddenly. “right then babe, let’s go!” gojo practically shouts. giddy from his win, gojo quickly grabs your wrist and drags you behind him, the pathetic bottle of green tea forgotten still suspended, leaning on the glass. your eyes widen as you feel the warmth of his hand around your wrist.

“he–gojo! HEY! where are we going?! gojo, slow down, why are we running?!” you ask jogging to keep up with his long stride. "hey!" you sharply shake wrist connected to him to get his attention. “we’re going – oh sorry!” he turns his head, white hair catching the light as he notices your increased pace, he slows down to accommodate your shorter stride.  “we’re going to the convenience store to get some green tea, duh. oh my god, can we get some cake too? oooOOOHhH, let’s get the new strawberry cream cake they have! can we??”

“okay, but you’re paying.” you say amused at his excitement. gojo grins happily, “you think I’d let you pay? c’mon!” shaking both of his hands excitedly, jostling your whole arm when he holds your wrist.

“you can let go now, gojo…” you say, barely noting the way that his grip on you grows a little tighter.

gojo blinks as he hesitantly drops your wrist. quickly recovering, gojo exclaims, “awwwwwww, i thought we were just starting to get alon -” offering you a teasing smile.

“oh my god, let’s just go.” rolling your eyes. taking large strides to walk past him before turning back in a huff annoyed to see that he wasn't following you.

you sigh dramatically, “I’m going by myself if you don’t –“ he quickly falls in line with your steps.  “im coming, im coming! jeez babe, you’re so demand–“ you slap his arm sharply, eyes blazing, all previous sadness forgotten, suspended for the time being. gojo laughs loudly at your expression.

gojo’s day just got better and judging by the pep in your step, he smiles to think that yours did too.

A/N: i loooooove him, he's such a lil puppy here. -- head image credit: unknown! credit goes to the rightful artists dividers from: @/adornedwithlight

[theformulaimagines]

Look at that woman (breaking my heart) | part nine

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Vettel!Reader

Summary: For one and a half years Lewis and y/n managed to keep their relationship a secret, until it blew up in their faces. Now, they're trying their hardest to pick up the pieces...

Warnings: angst

masterlist

Three weeks later…

This whole situation feels like a bad dream. Like a horrible nightmare. How could they have this sort of slip up? They’ve been so careful this entire time…

She can still remember the look on his face when she left their Airbnb to get into the taxi. The awful presence of their mutual heartbreak was visual in his eyes. A little break, that’s what they decided on. Their managers suggested they should get some space to breathe, some time apart to figure out what to do next. How to move forward.

She also remembers Sebastian‘s silence when she got into his car. He picked her up from the airport, his voice was coated in disappointment and hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”, he had asked her when they parked outside his house. “We didn’t tell anyone.” “I’m not anyone.”

Y/N sighs as she brings the cup of coffee up to her lips. The cold air feels good on her hot skin as she watches the sun rise over the mountains.

“Morning.”

The young woman slightly flinches and when she turns her head she catches a glimpse of a small smile on her brother’s lips:” Sorry.”

Yet she shakes her head:” No, hi. It’s fine. Good morning.” Her hands bring the blanket closer to her chin, while the blonde sits down next to her, positioning his coffee on the table in front of them:” How are you doing today?”

Y/N licks her lips and immediately regrets it:” I think it’s too early to decide on that.” She wants to sound witty, but it just comes out sad. Her eyes fixate on the mountains and a few seconds later she blinks away the tears that are forming. Sebastian notices them out of his peripheral vision and sighs, his hand reaches for hers.

No matter how angry he has been about her keeping her relationship a secret he still loves her. So much. “It’s going to be okay, you know.”, he lets out after a few moments and watches how a weak scoff leaves her. He wonders what she would say if she knew that Lewis has been texting him regularly since they last saw one another.

f1gossipofficial has made a post

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f1gossipofficial: Breaking News! Recent information from reliable sources suggests that Y/N Vettel and Lewis Hamilton have not communicated in several weeks, as they are currently taking a break from their relationship.

view all comments…

user 1: NOT A BREAK NOOOO

user 2: i hope everyone who has sent hate their way has a horrible life from today on

user 3: thank you GOD!!!!

user 4: you’re awful

“Is she okay?”

Sebastian turns his head and when he makes eye contact with his wife he takes lets out a shaky breath. “I mean, I always reckoned that something was going on between them… but I wouldn’t know what to do if I was her.”, Hanna whispers and watches Y/N through the closed glass door:” She’s probably dying inside.”

The blonde man tilts his head at her confession:” You knew?” “You didn’t notice the way they looked at one another?”, she asks and turns on the coffee machine:” The giggling and smiling? The way he would always gaze down at her from the podium? He did take more risks whenever she was watching. God, Sebastian.” He lets out a beaten sigh.

“I wish I could do something about this mess.”

“I know you do.”, Hanna says, walking up to him:” I mean, I am glad she’s not using her phone at-.” But she is cut off by the doorbell ringing, making Sebastian roll his eyes:” It’s 8 am on a fucking Sunday, I swear to God.” He lets go of his wife before walking down the hallway. With one swift motion, he opens the door.

His eyes instantly widen at the sight in front of him.

“Hi.”, Lewis says, trying his best to smile at Sebastian but it looks more forced than genuine. “What are you doing here?”

“I have to see Y/N.”

[honeipie]

Hi love! I love your works and writing style so-so much! May I please request Bakugou falling in love with a weak and sick fem!reader that is bound to hospital bed because of her disease (she can walk but she is too weak to do so). They could meet at the hospital while she still had strength to walk. Basically, he falls in love with her watching her wither away.My heart is craving angst and some soft Bakugou💔It's okay if you can't write it. Anyway, thank you!!! Sending you lots of love 🩷🩷

THE PROMISE

katsuki bakugo x fem!sickreader

synopsis: katsuki fell in love with you, but all good things must come to an end

author note: my first writing request i will treasure this forever!

cw: sick reader, the sickness is not specific, mentions of dying

“thank you for coming dynamite! the kids will be excited to see you here!” a woman in scrubs bowed in thanks, which katsuki only grunted at.

“don’t have to bow or anything, but you’re welcome” katsuki dipped his head a bit as a sign of respect. the woman held her clipboard with a smile.

“well aren’t you humble? come on now, the kids are right this way”

the nurse led him through a pair of doors that were decorated with stickers and kids names from top to bottom.

katsuki had decided that he would spend his volunteer days at the local hospital. it was either that or wearing a hairnet at the local soup kitchen. telling kids about some of his battles and even doing a damn craft if he had to.

now he had thought the doors were colorful, but the room was something else. children’s drawings were hung up all over the ceiling being held together by small clothespins and wire. there were shelves of toys and stuffed animals across just one wall, and a playmat for a safe area to have fun in.

though there were no kids on the playmat letting their imaginations run wild with dolls. neither were there at the easel’s painting a new picture to hang up.

they were all sitting at the table enthralled with something in front of them. katsuki was about to get their attention before he heard your voice.

“and then they came in contact with the evil king. he sat on top of his throne which towered above the hero and the princess”

“why’d he make his throne so high up?” one of the kids asked eyebrows scrunched together.

“because the king thought he was better than everyone. thought everyone was small compared to him, but that’s not the right mindset to have” the child nodded in understanding which allowed you to go on “then the king yelled out to the two-“ you looked up finally noticing the pro hero staring into your soul. your next words stopped in your throat at his presence.

blinking your eyes you gained your composure again sending the kids a smile “the king yelled out you’re gonna have to wait until next week to find out” all the the kids screamed ‘no!’ collectively, disappointed that their story time was being cut short. all you could do was laugh as they all gathered near your legs begging you to continue the story.

“i don’t think you’ll want to hear any more of the story when you see the special guest" all of the kids immediately turned around at your words now noticing the big pro hero that had been lingering behind them.

"dynamite!" they all screamed and went over to him as fast as they could. he was now being bombarded with questions and stories about himself.

"guys c'mon! let him breathe" you walked over giving him a smile "sorry, they're just really excited"

katsuki shook his head at your words "it's fine. better then damn villains attacking me-"

"he said a bad word! y/n he said a bad word!" the kids started feeding off of each other's energy until it turned into a full on shouting match.

"i heard it everyone don't worry, but dynamite is an adult so he's allowed to say the bad words" you gently tugged the kids away from dynamite so he could collect himself. some part in you hoped he had something planned, but he just seemed to stand there awkwardly. this was nothing like the hot-headed hero you saw on the television. he shifted his weight from one foot to the other looking at the kids, then up at you again. catching the memo you nodded.

"why don't we all introduce ourselves to dynamite, yeah? go find a seat and then we can start"

he watched as all of the kids followed your instructions without further push back. katsuki sent a subtle nod your way in which you returned "right this way dynamite"

you led him over to the chair you were sitting in "you can sit right here then we can go over names" katsuki sat down in the chair, but had to scoot up to the edge of it. between his hero suit and wide hips fitting in the chair simply wasn't going to happen.

for the next hour you directed as the kids introduced themselves and were able to ask the hero questions. katsuki answered most of the kids questions, well the one's that weren't 'do you have a girlfriend?' or 'why do you look mad all the time?'. your personal favorite being 'why do you sweat so much?'. as soon as it came out of the kid's mouth you burst out in laughter.

dynamite rolled his eyes not even looking at you "glad you found that funny"

"sorry! just- just wasn't expecting that"

by the time the last question was answered it was time for them to go back to their individual rooms "everybody say thank you to dynamite!"

"thank you dynamite!" they yelled out before filing out of the room one by one. there was a smile on your face as you turned to clean up but immediately jumped at the sight of the pro hero that was now particularly close to you.

"hi!" it came out in such a high pitch you had to clear your throat to make sure you were alright "thanks for spending time with the kids. they really enjoyed it i could tell"

"good"

his empty response only left you more confused. blinking away the confusion you put back on that polite smile of yours "well i'm just going to go clean" you stepped away from him walking over to the table. you had gotten the bright idea that each kid should make colorful nametags and give them to the pro hero.

"what was i doing wrong?" he asked quickly, but you still caught it.

"excuse me?"

"what was i doing wrong? cause some of the kids were looking at me like i was stupid when you walked in"

a smile crept onto your lips hearing his words. the katsuki bakugo asking for feedback.

"well i know you're a blunt man, so let me be blunt with you. when you walked in you kinda looked stupid. like you just got shocked by lightning and couldn't move. correct me if i'm wrong. that's probably because you don't have much experience with kids"

he scratched his chin a light stubble growing on his chin. he hasn't had much time to shave "i don't"

you could tell that there was more that he wanted to say, but couldn't bring himself to say it. taking one of the pencil boxes you slid it back into place "if you wanted to visit again. i could teach you some of the things i've learned along the years. i could take you on a walk around the hospital" his eyes stayed glues to the floor making you just a bit nervous "i didn't want to assume but the kids really had fun. plus i know they would love if you came back"

taking his fingers off of his chin he looked up. there was no way the paparazzi was catching him in a hairnet "okay, let’s go, show me around the hospital"

you raised your eyebrow at his swift demands and stepped aside to show him the mess on the table "i know you're some popular pro hero, but here? you're a volunteer. so what we're going to is clean this place up. then we'll see about that walk" you went over and gave him a pat on the shoulder "welcome to the team"

the next two months went by pretty quickly. he would come to hang out with the kids and you'd help him with how to interact with them and setting up activities. and after all the festivities were over you would take him on walks around the hospital.

this was the third month he had come, and you were showing him the gardens. the two of you had established your own kind of relationship with each other built on respect. he even let you call him bakugo now.

"sometimes i like to bring the kids out here and teach them all about the plants and how to garden. they don't like it because they're learning though. they like it because they're big dirtballs and love to play in the flowerbeds"

this made katsuki let out a stiff chuckle. he would take this to his grave, but he was genuinely enjoying the time that he volunteered here. his manager didn't have to threaten him with late night shifts just to blindly pick up volunteer hours anymore. there was some sort of fulfillment he got out of hearing the kids call "mr. dynamite" when they had a question. or when they laughed so hard their tiny stomach's hurt just because he called them "little brats". he watched as you went to sit down on a nearby bench going to make sure that the flowers next to them had been watered recently.

plus, he didn't mind spending alone time with you either.

he sat down next to you moving his focus over to your hands "you know a damn lot about this hospital. how long you been a volunteer?"

you stilled at his question, and he was one to notice details. you pulled your hands away from the flowers going to face him "i actually don't volunteer. i'm a patient" you didn't like people asking questions, so you prepared a speech every time someone asked "i don't know what illness i have. doctors have been running tests for years and they still can't seem to understand. at random times i'll just get things like flareups, or my body will become absolutely exhausted out of nowhere. there’s other symptoms too, but i don’t want to bore you with the details. they won't let me go because it's like every time i walk out of the walls of this hospital something bad happens and i need to go right back to bed rest"

katsuki did something that a lot of people who asked about your sickness didn't know how to do. he listened. he was attentive and never let his eyes leave your face as you explained.

"i've been in and out of here since i was a kid. that's why i know the hospital and the workers so well. that nurse that brought you in the first day? she was just my nurse years ago, but now she's head of the pediatric floor"

it was all coming together now. the way you showed him the most secluded hallways. how you knew what times they would be doing building wide activities. and he was finally making sense of your words that you had told him on his first day.

"you have to know the hospital to really understand the kids. i know it sounds stupid, but this is their home, and some people can't understand that. most of these kids spend more time in the hospital than they do in their own house. so know this hospital. have enough respect for them to at least try and understand what they're going through"

you had felt so deeply about this because you had gone through the same exact thing, and you weren't going to have someone mistreat these kids.

“cool”

your eyebrows raised at his response.

“cool? i just told you about my lifelong sickness and you’re gonna say cool?”

“well whaddya want me to say? you want me to treat you like a fucking dying plant?”

“no”

“then i’m going to say cool and we can move the hell on”

“wow! is the number two hero dynamite really being a sweetheart?”

with one hand he gave you a playful shove “fuck off” he mumbled taking that arm and letting it rest behind you on the bench “and call me katsuki”

as the months pass, katsuki grows more comfortable with the children, and with you. he decided that he should come more frequently. once every month turned into every two weeks. then those two weeks turning into one. the two of you never really defined the relationship. you didn’t need to. all that you needed to know was he cared for you, and you him.

it only took one week to change everything.

katsuki walked onto the children’s floor heading into the room. all of the kids were doing their centers, but you were nowhere to be found. he saw the nurse though, helping one of the children with a computer game. when he walked over he ruffled the hair on top of the kids head “sup brat. mrs. harada, ‘s y/n here?”

mrs. harada’s expression grew soft. she placed a hand on the child’s shoulder letting them know she’d be right back. gently she grabbed katsuki’s forearm and walked him to a corner of the room.

“y/n relapsed. it was a two days after you came to volunteer. she was fine, about to head out from cleaning then just collapsed”

katsuki felt his blood running cold. how the hell could this happen? he just saw you. you were just fine.

why didn’t you call him?

mrs. harada placed a gentle hand on his shoulder “i’m sorry. i know you two are close, and i'm sure you don’t know how to feel. i can tell you her room number so you can see her. i’ll step in for both of you today” she smiled writing it on a sticky note and handed it to him. he gave her a nod then went to storm out “bakugo” she called out to get his attention “i understand you might be feeling betrayed, and you’re allowed to feel that way, but y/n is feeling a lot at the moment. she finally thought she was getting better and- and here we are. so please go easy on her”

katsuki thanked her, then headed out the door.

he walked through the hospital on a mission. he didn't stop to greet anyone or take autographs. the only time that he stopped was when he saw your room number.

the door was cracked open, but he couldn't see you from the angle where he was.

it was strange.

katsuki has trained for more hours than he could count. he had been facing villain's since he was at least fourteen years old. he had been through a whole damn war for crying out loud. and yet, as he stood there he felt a weight he had never felt before.

you glanced up seeing katsuki walk through the door. your heart started beating faster as soon as you saw him. even if you tried to put up a facade about it, your heart monitor gave everything away.

“you found me”

“ ‘s not like you gave me any other choice”

you watched as he stood in the doorway. hand stuffed in the pockets of his sweats. you had recommended that he didn't wear his hero suit since it would probably get uncomfortable after a while.

"katsuki you can come in-"

"why didn't you tell me as soon as it happened?"

"it's complicated"

"then fucking explain it to me" he stared at you his face unmoving.

"fine" you sat up wincing slightly at the pain shooting up your spine. katsuki almost faltered seeing your face contort from the pain "I don't know why I didn't tell you okay? The thought crossed my mind about a thousand times, but I just couldn't do it" a shaky sigh left your body and you tried to fight back the tears "there's just a lot going on.. and- and-"

the door clicked softly behind him, but you hadn't noticed. katsuki had made his way next to your bed and was already climbing in beside you. the bed let out a groan because of the added weight. he wrapped one arm around you and wiped your tears with the other. his thumb had a rough texture from all the explosions they've let out throughout the years. but they were gentle for you, and only you.

"you don't gotta say anymore. i've got you"

you leaned onto his shoulder letting the dam of your emotions break onto him. tears ran down your face, but you let them flow this time.

so you cried, and you cried, and you cried and cried and cried.

and katsuki let you.

it had been a while before you could compose yourself again. the room was filled with comfortable silence and the occasional snuffle from you.

"do you feel better?" he asked turned his head to face you.

"yeah.. 'm sorry you had to deal with that"

"don't fuckin' apologize for crying"

you chuckled at his words going to grab a tissue to wipe any excess. he tilted his head some analyzing a spot on your face closely.

"you got somethin' right.. there" he swiped a piece of tissue that had gotten stuck on your face.

you faced him getting a better look from up close. blond hair stuffed under a black baseball cap. bags under his eyes from all of his night shifts.

katsuki couldn't handle you looking at him like that. eyes still puffy from crying. your tongue running over your lips.

fuck it.

katsuki's hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck. he pulled you close as gently as he could. your foreheads touched before anything else.

"you don't want to kiss me. my face is disgusting" you whispered making him laugh, genuinely laugh.

"i've seen some disgusting shit and this isn't one of them"

you smiled before closing the distance between the two of you. there was a nice contrast to the kiss. between the roughness of his palm on your neck and his soft lips pressed against yours.

you could stay this way forever.

katsuki sneakily moved his tongue over your lips and pulled away. he made a face shaking his head "salty as shit"

"shut up!" you pushed him playfully making the both of you fall into laughter.

you and katsuki went on like this for months. constant visits, playful kisses, and when he was tired from patrol, he'd even let you read to him until he fell asleep.

but with the good, also came the bad.

your body had been getting weaker throughout the months. it came to the point where you couldn't get out of the bed unless you had help. katsuki had offered to take you on walks by putting you in the wheelchair, but you always refused. that is until you got the news.

"kats" you said causing him to lift his head from your shoulder "i wanna go on a walk"

he was confused at first. the sudden request to do something that you never wanted to was strange. though he didn't ask any questions as he went to get your things set up.

katsuki wrapped his arms around your torso lifting you up to be placed in the wheelchair. he had studied how the nurses did this thousands of times. you were embarrassed that he had to do this for you, but he'd do them a million times over it if meant walking with you.

there were no questions asked on where you wanted to go, you both knew.

katsuki pulled your wheelchair right next to the bench, but ended up putting you in his lap. you leaned against his shoulder looking at the cherry blossoms.

"when i die-"

"y/n don't start with that shit. you're not gonna die. you're gonna come back from this"

your one hand weakly played with the hair on the back of his head "we all die kats. it's okay if i talk about it"

"yeah, but you're talking about dying soon"

with a sad look in your eyes you watched his eyes follow the falling blossoms.

"can you at least promise me something then?"

"yeah"

"when i die, take care of the kids for me. you're so good with them and i don't trust just anybody handling it up there"

katsuki's eyes stayed glued to the trees in front of him.

"I can do that"

"and also-"

"idiot you said one promise!"

"hey! i'm dying i can make as many promises as i want" you smiled weakly at your own joke, but he didn't think it was too funny.

"promise to take care of yourself"

you saw his throat bob up and down at your words.

"you take care of so many other people and don't make time for yourself. learn how to rest kats. i can't have you dying either okay?" you placed a soft kiss on his cheek for good measure "you promise?"

katsuki rubbed one of his hands up and down your arm. a slow, shuddering breath leaving his mouth.

"i promise"

knowing that he would be okay you could finally rest, forever.

[arsenal-womens-1]

In the blink of an eye

People often use the saying "your life can change in the blink of an eye" a lot. Six weeks ago, you understood what the saying meant. One day, you were taking a silly DNA test for fun with your friends. The next thing you know, you find out your whole life is a lie when you get the DNA results back. It turns out the people who said they were your birth parents are not, in fact, your biological parents; they kidnapped you.

For six weeks, you've kept a huge secret. It's eating at you. Leah Williamson is your sister. For six weeks, you've been going to training, playing, eating, and talking with your biological sister, and she has no clue about your secret. How were you supposed to tell someone they're your sister when you were kidnapped at six months old? You can't even look at her. People have started to notice that you can't look at her and that you are avoiding her as much as possible.

You have been staying with Beth and Viv for about five weeks now. You couldn't go back to that house, not after what you found out. Beth and Viv don't know the real reason; they just think that your mum and dad went back to live in Spain. Your head is a mess, questioning who you are, why did they take you. Would your life have been different? Would you have gotten into football? All these "what ifs," you would never get the answers to any of them.

It hurts, knowing that you would never get the answers to why they took you and stuff like that. Hearing a knock at your door, you get up. Standing in front of you was the one person that you didn't want to see. “Hey, you ready to go? Beth and Viv are waiting in the living room.” Nodding your head, you walk past her and into the living room where you see a bunch of footballers walking over to where all the shoes are kept. You pick a random pair.

After you put them on, you walk over to where Beth and Viv are, giving a weak smile to Viv. She looks at you; it's clear you had been crying at some point. “You ok, kid?” Giving her another weak smile, you nod your head. Hearing Kim shout, “We will all meet at the restaurant, everyone drive safe,” as all the footballers pile out of the tiny apartment. You, Viv, Beth, Leah, and Jordan are the last to pile out. Walking to the car, Beth and Leah were whispering to each other about something.

Pulling out your phone, you take a picture of your outfit, posting it on your Insta and Snap stories. You stop at the car, waiting for Viv to open it. When she does, you get in; Jordan was in the middle, and Leah was on the other side. The car ride was quiet for the most part. Getting out of the car, you walk into the restaurant. Beth, Viv, Leah, and Jordan weren't that far behind. Alessia and Ella come over; you know them from England.

You got your first call-up two months before the Euros, and I guess Sarina liked the way you play, as you got the call to join the team for the Euros. It's now November 1st; life has been crazy since you won. Walking to the table, you sit more away from your Arsenal teammates. The night went well; everyone was happy and talking to each other. It's now the next day; you had a game today, so you need to get there at 5 am because it's a 12:30 kick-off.

Getting up, you slip on a hoodie and joggers, trying to shake off the weight of your secret. As you head out the door, you walk to the kitchen where some of the Arsenal girls are; some stayed over last night. Beth passes you a coffee. "Hey," she says, her voice soft and it has a hint of tiredness in it. "Are you okay? You seemed a bit off last night." You force a smile, hoping to deflect her worry. "Yeah, just tired, I guess. Big day ahead."

Giving another forced smile, you walk over to the couch and flop down next to Jen. The news was on the TV; nothing interesting, so you just go on TikTok and watch some fan edits showing Jen. A few here and there were of to the training center; it's cold as it's like -4. As you arrive at the training center, each step you take is heavier than the last, burdened by the weight of your secret. Your mind is a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Jen's concerned gaze follows you, her eyes silently pleading for you to confide in her, but you just can't bring yourself to do it. Not yet. Inside the training center, the familiar sights and sounds offer little comfort. Your mind keeps drifting back to Leah. How do you face her knowing what you know? The guilt threatens to consume you whole. As the bus parks up, you catch Leah's eyes. For a moment, it feels like she can see right through you, like she knows the truth.

You quickly look away, unable to bear the weight of her gaze. She was just a teammate six weeks ago, and now she is your sister. Well, I guess she always has been, but you didn't know. Getting on the coach, you sit next to Katie, Catlin, Steph; you don't really talk to them. The game was a blur; yous won 2-0. After taking photos with fans, you walk down the tunnel where Leah, Beth, Katie, and Georgia Stanway are.

Leah walks over to you; as you try to walk away, she gently grabs your arm. “Hey, can we talk?” You just shake your head, and you try to pull your hand away. “What have I done to you to make you hate me?” You shake your head. “I don't hate you, Leah.” She still has your hand in her grasp. “You can't look at me; you don't talk to me, and you won't tell anyone what's going on.”

You do the only thing you can think to get her to let go of you. The connection of your hand connects to her face echoes through the tunnel. The girls come over and quickly separate you. Beth comes up to you and pulls you around the corner. “What's going on? Leah just wanted to know if she did something; why did you slap her?” Looking at Beth, the concern for you and a bit of anger for slapping Leah, you couldn't bear it any longer.

You let all the emotions out, letting a sob rip through you. Beth steps forward and gently pulls you into a hug so your head is resting on her shoulder. “She-I'm-” She tries to calm you down. “She's my sister.” Letting another sob rip through your body, you feel Beth tense under you. “What are you talking about?” Wiping your head around, you see Leah standing there.

[btsxmalereaders]

I'll be There

>pairing —seo changbin x trans!male reader >genre — fluff, a bit angsty >summary —  When you're overwhelmed by the return of your period and feelings of dysphoria, Changbin steps in with quiet care and love, proving that even in the hardest moments you're never alone. >word count — 3,7k >a/n: idk how this happened i was planning on writing something short and fluffy but yeah, anyway... I hope you like it! This is my first time posting in a long while but luckily i'm on my winter break, so i'll catch up with reqs! thank you so much for your patience and support xoxo >warnings: dysphoria, menstrual themes.

“Alright, sounds good. How about next week? If I remember correctly, we have to record the dance practice for the title track.” Chan says and immediately looks at everyone’s reactions. 

You all are practicing for the upcoming comeback, recording videos for promotion, practicing nonstop the different choreographies, attending meetings, recording some songs, practicing again, recording many more things for different platforms and doing many other interviews. It is exhausting, sometimes, but you all think it is worth it when seeing the results of your hard work. 

“Yeah, next week seems fine.” Hyunjin agrees out loud meanwhile the rest of you just nod and stand up as today’s practice has finished. “I guess we could go live after recording the practice, and tease a bit about the comeback.”

Chan gives a few last indications and stays a bit talking to the staff while you start collecting your stuff and getting ready to go back to the dorm. It’s late, and you still need to get up early for tomorrow’s activities. As you walk back to the lockers you let out a deep sigh; your head has been hurting a lot and you could only owe it to the sleepless nights and continuous work. Changbin's eyes flicker to you as you try to gather your stuff, clearly in discomfort but not saying anything. He knows you better than anyone, especially after the months you've been together, but there’s still a certain sense of care and sensitivity he approaches your health with.

“Hey,” He murmurs softly as he grabs your bag before you could even touch it. “Are you okay?” Changbin asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

You nod and give him a weak smile. “Yeah, just a little worn out. I’ll be fine.”

He doesn’t buy it, not for a second. He knows you enough to tell you were feeling bad; he has noticed how in this whole time in the practice room you didn’t say a word, only when you were asked to. The groans you let out as a sign of tiredness and discomfort wasn’t something he overlooked. “You sure? You’re still not looking like yourself. Do you want me to get you something?”

Before you can respond, he walks ahead of you, his phone already out. You’re not sure who he’s messaging, but by the time you walk out of the room, he’s holding some painkillers and a water bottle in his hands. “Here, love. Take this and let’s get you something to eat, alright? I’m making dinner tonight.”

You look up at Changbin, a bit surprised but mostly grateful. He’s always been the thoughtful one, noticing the smallest details when you’re not feeling your best. The thought of dinner sounds comforting, but you’re not sure if you have the energy to eat.

“I don’t know, I’m really not feeling great,” you mutter, rubbing your temples as the headache intensifies.

He shakes his head with that soft, concerned smile of his. "That’s exactly why you need to eat. And no arguing with me. You know I can’t let you starve, especially when you're like this."

You let out a tired laugh. "You’re really spoiling me, aren’t you?"

He winks, his grin widening. "Someone has to take care of you, especially when you're too stubborn to do it yourself."

You smile at him, feeling a little lighter, and let him lead you out of the building into the car waiting for you, his arm gently guiding you along. As all of you make your way back to the dorm, Jeongin, Minho and Felix are engaging in an interesting debate about which one is the best Pokémon, Hyunjin seems to be focused on something on his phone and Seungmin, Han and Chan are discussing details of their agenda. But Changbin keeps glancing over at you, his eyes filled with concern, making sure you're comfortable. You find it endearing, the way he always looks after you, even in the smallest of ways.

When you finally get back to the dorm, the first thing Changbin does is usher you to the couch, throwing a blanket over your shoulders before even thinking about starting dinner. You sink into the cushions, letting the comfort of the blanket wrap around you as you watch him bustle around the kitchen. He’s surprisingly good at cooking, something you learned early on in your relationship, and you can't help but admire the way he moves so effortlessly, his focus entirely on making sure you're okay.

"Sit back, relax. I’ve got it from here," he says, glancing over his shoulder with a teasing grin. "I’m the chef tonight."

Everyone seemed to catch up on you feeling a bit down so they do their best on not making too much noise and check up on you constantly. Felix has put on your favorite movie and Jeongin prepared you a warm bath; which you truly appreciated. 

You were nearly sleeping on the couch as the warm water made you feel more tired, but Changbin finished cooking quickly with the help of Minho as well. You all gather at the table and try not to discuss work themes; everyone seemed to be tired of it as well, so a new rule you all agreed on was not to bring those matters to the dorm; just try to relax and catch a break from all the stress it implied.

“I’ll wash the dishes tonight, everyone just go to sleep.” Chan murmurs and everyone thanks him with a smile. You smile and stand up, rushing to your bedroom and hurrying to prepare for sleep.

Changbin walks in a few minutes later, still with a look of concern on his face. You exit the bathroom and yawn. 

“How are you feeling now?” He asks as he starts to get ready too. You just get in bed and sigh.

You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Your head still hurts, but it’s not as intense as before, and the comfort of your bed helps ease the tension in your muscles.

"I’m okay now, I think," you reply, your voice softer than usual. “The bath really helped... and dinner was perfect, as always, so thank you. I feel... I don’t know, just a little less heavy.”

Changbin walks over to the bed, his expression softening even more as he sits next to you. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle and caring.

You chuckle softly, closing your eyes for a moment. As much as you love seeing him take care of you, you can’t help but feel a little guilty. He deserves the same care and attention, but you’ve been too caught up in your own exhaustion to give him the same.

"I’m sorry for being such a mess lately," you murmur, barely audible.

Changbin stops mid-motion, "You’re not a mess. You're allowed to be tired, and you're allowed to ask for help when you need it. I’m here for all of it, alright? Just… don’t shut me out."

You look up at him, his eyes so full of understanding, and you feel your chest tighten with appreciation. He doesn’t want anything in return; he just wants to be there for you, in whatever way you need.

“I love you so much,” you whisper, your voice a little shaky.

He smiles softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I love you more, and I’ll always be here. You don’t have to thank me. Just… focus on getting better, okay?"

You nod, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. Maybe you were running on empty, but with Changbin by your side, you knew you could face anything. Even the toughest days would feel a little easier with him there to support you.

Truth is, Changbin has been a gift sent from heaven. It was so easy for you two to connect, to develop something greater than a friendship; it was so natural, so meant to happen. You loved every single one of your friends, you even considered them your family; but with Changbin you just knew you were meant to be together as something more. He often liked to say you were like an extension of himself, of his soul. 

At the beginning you were just a mess of nerves and fear. You were confident in your identity and being, it was the people’s reaction what made you feel worried. The thought of being misunderstood, judged, or treated differently because of who you were felt like a heavy weight on your chest. But over time, you learned to trust yourself more, to lean into your confidence, even when doubt crept in. 

What made it all bearable, though, was finding the right people to stick by your side, people who saw you for who you truly were. Changbin was one of them. He never once faltered in his support. From the very beginning, when you had confided in him about your fears and insecurities, he was unwavering in his care and understanding. He made sure you always knew that your identity, your truth, was something beautiful in his eyes. He never made you feel like a burden, never pushed you to change, just accepted you fully, as you were.

You’d been together for a while now, but it wasn’t something you could just throw out to the fans. Being a part of Stray Kids has always been an exciting, rewarding journey, but it also came with its own challenges, especially in the industry you’re in, where image and expectations are everything. Things are fine as they are now; calm, private, and under control.

“I’m really lucky, aren’t I?” you murmur softly, nestling deeper into Changbin’s embrace.

He tightens his hold on you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “No,” he replies, his voice filled with warmth. “I’m the lucky one.”

You smile, feeling the warmth of his words settle in your chest. It’s a quiet moment, but in it, you feel like everything is right.

"Yeah," you whisper, your eyes fluttering closed, "we're both lucky."

He hums softly in agreement, his thumb gently brushing against your arm as the two of you drift into a peaceful sleep.

——————————————————————————————————

The next week rolls around, and practice is as intense as ever. The comeback is just around the corner, and everyone is pushing hard to perfect every move and note. You’ve been working non-stop, barely catching a break, and the exhaustion is starting to take its toll. The symptoms had been there all week, the fatigue, headaches, cramps, but you convinced yourself it was just the stress of all the rehearsals, meetings, and promotions. After all, you’ve been on testosterone for months, and your periods had been absent, so you didn’t expect to deal with them again. But as the day goes on, the cramps intensify, and that’s when it hits you: Oh no. You’re getting your period.

You try to push through, focusing on the choreography and not letting yourself get distracted, but the pain becomes unbearable. You’re still moving, but it’s sluggish, like your body isn’t responding the way it should. Your stomach twists with each step, the cramps growing sharper, and you can feel your face flush. This isn’t just from stress, you think. It’s the real deal.

You’re about to say something when Changbin notices first. He’s always been quick to read your expressions, and today is no different. He pauses mid-step, his eyes catching yours, and something in his expression shifts. There’s a sudden concern there that makes you freeze. He knows.

"Hey," he murmurs, stepping closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. "Are you okay? You don’t look so good."

You try to force a smile, but it feels weak. “I’m fine. Just tired, but I’ll catch up, honestly. I’ll be alright.”

Changbin sighs. His eyes flicker over you again, noticing the way you’re holding your stomach and the tightness in your posture. “You’re sweating, and you’re holding your stomach. It’s more than just being tired, isn’t it?”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to ignore the building anxiety in your chest. “I think I’m about to start my period…” you say in a quiet voice, almost embarrassed to admit it. You don’t want to make a scene, especially not in front of the team, but it’s hard to ignore the truth. You had thought the testosterone would stop your periods for good, and now, to have them come back so unexpectedly, it’s a shock. A panic starts to rise in your chest. 

Changbin’s face softens, and he immediately takes a step closer, his expression filled with concern. “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t stress about it. We’ll figure it out.”

But you can’t help the worry that settles in your gut. You hadn’t expected this, and now it feels like everything’s coming undone. What if something’s wrong? What if I’m not supposed to have this anymore?

Before you can spiral into those thoughts, Changbin is already taking charge. He walks over to Chan and the staff, speaking to them in quiet tones. You can hear a few words exchanged, but the conversation feels distant as the pain continues to rise. You want to push through, to keep going, but the cramps are unbearable. You can barely stand up straight, and your body feels like it’s shutting down.

When Changbin comes back, he kneels down in front of you, his hand resting gently on your knee. “They’re good with everything. You don’t need to worry about the live or rehearsal for now. We’ll handle it.”

You open your mouth to protest, but the words get stuck in your throat. The thought of letting everyone down, especially when they’ve been counting on you, makes your chest tighten. You swallow hard, the weight of it all starting to sink in. “I feel like I’m failing, though. Everyone’s expecting me to be there, and I can’t even keep it together.”

Changbin takes your hand in his, squeezing it gently. “You’re not failing. Taking care of yourself doesn’t make you weak. You’ve been working so hard, and you’ve got us. We’ve got your back, okay?”

His words ease the tightness in your chest, but the anxiety is still there, lingering in the back of your mind. You don’t want to feel like a burden, especially not to Changbin. But his reassuring smile and calm presence give you the comfort you need to let go of some of that fear.

He stands up, brushing a hand through your hair before looking down at you with a soft expression. “I’ll make sure everything’s taken care of. Let’s get you home, alright?”

As Changbin helps you out of the practice room and toward the car waiting to take you home, the guilt starts creeping in again. You’re quiet for most of the ride, staring out of the window, your mind racing. Why now? Why did this have to happen now of all times? What if the guys are mad at me? What if this keeps happening? What if something’s wrong with my body?

Changbin doesn’t press you to talk, though. He keeps his hand resting on yours, his thumb tracing calming circles over your knuckles. Every now and then, he glances over, but he knows you need the space to work through your thoughts, even if they’re running wild.

When you finally get back to the dorm, the silence feels heavier. As soon as the door closes behind you, it’s like the emotions you’ve been holding back all day come flooding in. You drop your bag to the floor, your shoulders shaking as tears start to spill. You’re angry at your body for betraying you, frustrated with yourself for not noticing the symptoms sooner, and overwhelmed by the thought of not being there for the team.

Changbin is by your side in an instant, gently pulling you into his arms. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice soft and grounding. “You’re okay. Just let it out.”

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, clinging to him. “I didn’t mean to-- this wasn’t supposed to happen, Binnie. I thought I was done with this. What if it doesn’t stop? What if something’s wrong with me? And now I’m missing practice and the live, and everyone’s going to think I’m slacking or--”

“Stop,” he cuts in gently but firmly, pulling back just enough to cup your face in his hands. His eyes meet yours, steady and full of reassurance. “None of that is true. You’re not slacking, and you’re not failing. Your body’s doing something unexpected, yeah, but it doesn’t mean anything’s wrong with you. It’s just a part of the process, okay? You’re doing your best, and that’s all anyone can ask for.”

His words break through the storm in your head just enough to make you pause, but the tears keep coming. You bury your face in his chest, letting yourself cry as he holds you tightly.

Meanwhile, back at the studio, the rest of the group has gone live. They’re chatting with fans, teasing the comeback, and answering questions, but your absence hasn’t gone unnoticed.

Where’s ______?, one fan asks in the chat, echoed by several others, as well asking for Changbin.

Chan steps in smoothly, his tone light but comforting. “Ah, ____ wasn’t feeling well today, so he’s resting. Don’t worry, he’ll be back soon! We’re taking good care of him. Changbinnie is making sure he is doing fine.”

The chat floods with messages of support and concern, and the members take turns reassuring the fans, making sure the focus stays positive. Changbin had already briefed them before he left, and you know they’ve got your back. But that doesn’t stop the guilt from gnawing at you as you picture them carrying on without you.

“See?” Changbin whispers as he rubs soothing circles on your back, as if he can sense your spiraling thoughts. “They’re all handling it just fine. No one’s upset, and the fans are being super supportive. You’re not letting anyone down, love. You’re just human.”

You sniffle, wiping at your face as you pull back slightly to look at him. “I just hate feeling like I’m not doing enough. And this stupid period is making me feel worse.”

“You’re doing more than enough,” he insists, brushing a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “You push yourself so hard every day, and it’s okay to take a step back when you need to. That doesn’t make you any less important to the team, or to me.”

You sigh and feel more tears streaming down your face. A silence fills the room for a moment as you collect your thoughts. Changbin clears the traces. “What else are you thinking of?”

“I feel… so out of place,” you whisper, voice cracking. “It’s like my own body is against me. I thought I was past this. I’ve been on T for years, and I’ve been doing everything right, but it still comes back, Binnie. I feel like I’m back at square one, like I’m not even–”

“Hey,” he interrupts softly but firmly, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “Don’t say that. You’re exactly who you’re meant to be. None of this changes that, not even for a second.”

“But it feels like it does,” you cry, voice trembling. “It feels like no matter what I do, I’m stuck in a body that doesn’t feel like mine. And now this, on top of everything else– I just feel so overwhelmed, like I can’t catch a break.”

Changbin takes a deep breath, holding you close as he thinks carefully about what to say. “I can’t pretend to fully understand how this feels for you,” he starts quietly. “But I do know that it doesn’t make you any less of the amazing, strong person that you are. You’ve been through so much, and you’ve come so far. One bad day, or even a bad week, doesn’t undo all of that.”

His words don’t fix everything, but they cut through the noise in your head just enough to ground you. You grip his arm tightly, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and it helps pull you back to the present.

“It just feels so unfair,” you murmur after a moment. “I’m so tired of this fight.”

“I know, love,” he whispers, resting his chin on top of your head. “I hate that you have to go through this, but you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here for you, always. Whatever you need; space, comfort, distraction, I’ll do it. You just have to tell me.”

You let out a shaky breath, your body slowly relaxing into his. “I don’t even know what I need right now,” you admit.

“That’s okay,” he says gently, his hand moving to rub soothing circles on your back. “We’ll figure it out together. For now, just focus on breathing, okay? One thing at a time.”

He shifts slightly, grabbing the blanket he’d brought over earlier and wrapping it snugly around both of you. “You’re not alone in this. And this doesn’t change how I see you or how much I care about you. You’re still you, always.”

The sincerity in his voice breaks through some of the tension in your chest. You rest your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes as you focus on the sound of his heartbeat. Slowly, the overwhelming tide of emotions starts to ebb, replaced by a small flicker of comfort. Changbin doesn’t rush you or try to push you to move on from how you’re feeling. He just stays there, holding you, letting you take the time you need.

His words hit you right in the chest, and for the first time all day, you feel a little less alone.You let out a shaky breath, leaning into him again as you whisper, “Thank you, Binnie.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, his arms still wrapped securely around you. “Always,” he replies softly. “Now, how about we get you into some comfy clothes and set up a little movie night? Just you and me.”

The thought of curling up on the couch with him, away from all the stress and expectations, sounds like exactly what you need. You nod, finally letting yourself relax a little, knowing that for now, it’s okay to let someone else take care of you.

[wildemaven]

1000 kisses to you and here's my 2 prompt picks for the drabble thingie: 4 and 15 with Javier

Can't wait to see what it leads to 😘

call me javi | javier peña

pairing: javier peña x reader word count: 651 content warning: mentions of alcohol and cigarettes, dancing, fluff, javier being protective and sweet, I don’t think there’s anything else note: sorry it took me so long to get to this!! I hope this works okay 💕 thanks for sending in your ask and for you support

“You're not as bad as everyone says you are.” You say loudly rather close to his ear, hoping he can hear over the booming music and crowded bar. 

It was a slow week at the embassy, which meant the DEA’s finest had a chance to let loose and enjoy themselves for once. 

Drinks flowing. Bodies grinding in tune with each song the DJ throws out, keeping the energy circulating throughout the small bar you all frequent regularly. 

Tonight would be like any other Friday with your fellow Agents, except this evening you find yourself drawn to one Agent in particular. 

His body has been firmly against yours for the better part of the evening, front and back. Hands holding you close no matter the pace of the song, selfishly worried you might drift away or find yourself in the arms of someone else. 

You lost count at the amount of times his lips brushed over your own ears. His constant need to check in with you had your chest tight and stomach full of fluttering desire. 

There was a small part of you that was feeling he might even like you. More than just a crush born from an evening of close proximity. There was never a thought that he would be, not with all the beautiful women constantly in his arms in all the years you’ve known him. 

With the way his warm brown eyes are so fixated on you says otherwise. His expression exchanged for something a little less brooding and a little more alluring. Hands still finding purchase by any means as you lean against the wall while his body shields you from onlookers. The dimly lit hallway near the back of the bar adds another layer of privacy. 

“Who’s everyone?” Javier’s voice is laced with a nervousness you’ve never heard before. The stoic demeanor he wears regularly now hangs up alongside his worn-in leather jacket. 

There’s a raspiness brought on by the pack of cigarettes he most likely blew through leading up to showing up here, even though he said he had other plans.

“Who do you think?” You smirk playfully at him, your fingers playing with the damp curls at the base of his neck. 

“Steve?” There was no need to even ask, he already knew how protective Steve was, rightfully so. Didn’t mean he still didn’t find his overbearing partner to be a pain in his ass, especially when it came to you. 

You nod in agreement, desperately trying to contain the laughter bubbling up as he huffs out  dramatically, shaking his head. The annoyance doesn’t last long though. The corners of his mouth lifting, revealing one of his best features. His smile makes you instantly weak and it has you prematurely looking forward to being on the receiving end of it forever. 

“Are you going to kiss me, Javier?” The prospect of his lips on you, in any capacity, had been overwhelming your every thought since he saddled up next to you at the beginning of the night.

Watching the way his lips formed every word he spoke. Cradling the edge of his glass on his plush lower lip as he sipped on his dry whiskey. Contorting in such a delicate way with each drag he pulled from his cigarette. 

They’re the softest lips you’ve ever had the pleasure of kissing. Excruciatingly blissful, deliberately encompassing your own, as your brain silently screams for more. 

“Javi.” Javi. It rolls off his tongue like a sweet springtime honey. Each letter electric as he says it, leaving your mouth tingling as it brands itself to your soul. 

“Hmm?” Too consumed by him to form words. 

“You can call me Javi from now on.” There’s a permanence in the way he says it, something you both have to discuss once the hangovers have worn off tomorrow. 

“Kiss me again— Javi.” And he does well into the next morning. 

[causenessus]

try again

part 0.7. MY PERSON

“today he is sitting across from a mother and kid. he is thankful that they chose the other wall to sit against, and not his seat by the bookshelf, but he’s a little unsure what to do himself, for once not alone in the waiting room. it’s not as if he ever does anything alone, but he doesn’t feel like he can drown in his own thoughts and curiosities. instead, he’s been sneaking glances towards them. if a mother and her kid are waiting outside, who are they waiting for? he wants to know what their lives are like. what happened that brought them here? what is the mother thinking right now? does she blame herself for whoever she’s waiting for? he needs to stop assuming things. he tries to focus on the music instead. it’s much different from songs he’s used to hearing, in a good way. it makes him wonder, is this what her usual playlist is like? is she queuing up songs for him? or maybe she plays specific songs for all her patients. this particular song is quite universal: “i’d like to walk around in your mind someday." that was something everyone wished they could do. maybe she knows that this mother waits outside the door every therapy appointment, and plays music that she likes, "i’d like to walk all over the things you say to me." the sound of a doorknob twisting interrupts his thoughts, and he can’t help but look up as they walk out the door. they’re younger than he would have expected, but their eyes look aged and tired; so do his. "i'd turn away the sad impossibility of your smile.”

“so, you decided to come back?” she’s the one who speaks first this time, and it’s almost more venomous than the words he first spoke to her upon their meeting last week. the multiple implications underlying the sentence are obvious to both of them, cutting through the air and only leaving silence behind.

he can only nod awkwardly, unsure of what he could possibly say back in response to the rightful accusation. he sits down stiffly onto her couch like he did before, around a week ago, waiting for her to sit across from him.

‘you decided to finally text back? did you decide you didn’t want to actually abandon me again? did you miss me like i missed you?’

she’s holding back every urge to ask him why he hasn’t talked to her until just now. her thoughts quickly turn from angry to petty claims. 

she feels like shit as soon as she says it, already wishing to take back the only six words she’s said to him today. six words and she’s already fucked up. it feels nearly impossible for her to maintain a stoic face and pretend like nothing’s wrong. she hopes that if she can remain a professional pillar between the two of them, acting like there weren't actually multiple meanings to her question, they can both look past it. she needs to put him before her own feelings of anger, hurt, obsession, whatever the fuck they were. she’ll deal with herself later, she needs to be here for him first, as a therapist, not as herself.

“what’s up? are you thinking of coming in regularly or just whenever you need it?” she asks, pulling her computer from the table next to her into her lap as she sits down. 

he blinks once, “i want to come in regularly. like i told you before, i want to see you. and if that means forcing you to see me for just an hour every week, i’ll take it.”

‘oh for fuck’s sake.’

her fingers freeze over her keyboard, looking up at him. he was making this incredibly difficult and she was so weak when it came to him, she couldn’t even keep her own word. she couldn’t understand his duality, or the reason behind his actions. was there even any reasoning? he was always so calm and collected, calculating each and every one of his actions; he had to have a reason for ghosting her and then acting like he cared. unless he didn’t understand his own feelings, because hell if she did.

“okay,” she chooses to say, not addressing the statement nor blatantly ignoring it. she averts her eyes back to her computer screen. it was blank, deride of any thoughts. she knows his charcoal black eyes are still on her, and they weigh heavy on her. she can barely think, feeling vulnerable under his gaze as if he can see right through her. he’s the patient here, she’s the one who should leading him through the session, and yet he’s still commanding the room.

she tries her best to stand back up to him, “well, if you have anything on your mind you wanted to talk about in particular today, we can start with that. or we can pick up where we left off last week, with you just trying to update me on what’s currently going on in your life. this is your time, so just tell me what you want.”

he takes a moment to respond, thinking about what’s pressing on his mind most at the moment, “i do have something i want to talk about, but it loops back in to what’s been going on recently as well.” he waits for her to stop typing, for her eyes to flick back up to meet his before he keeps going, “i told you last week about the day how getting benched has messed with me. i tried to write down everything that was stressing me out like you said to, which helped a bit but it really only made me more aware of all my problems and how they’re not getting better. i’m still shoving down all my anger every day, and maybe i’m not doing a good job of it, or i'm just reaching a breaking point because my teammates–they always give me these looks after games. they know me, and i guess they care about me. they always check in on me, but i hate that they can tell, and i hate the way they look at me, even if they mean well. it’s like they’re scared of me getting mad and blowing up. i've been talking to them less so that they don't worry about me but then i get scared that i’m losing them. i just don’t want them to be scared of me or worried about me. i don’t want their pity, i want them to treat me normally. not like i’m gonna break if they say one wrong thing to me.”

“well first of all, be confident that they care about you. don’t say you think they do. you just acknowledged how they're always checking in on you, and it's obvious you care about them, too. you value their friendships and comfort or else you wouldn’t be stressed about what they thought of you. it’s not weak of you to be cared for or to have breaking points. everyone has a limit to how much they can take, but you’re not supposed to just hold it all in until you can’t possibly take anymore,” she advises back, eyes focused on her screen as she types away while talking. “that’s why atsumu recommended for you to talk to someone. because if you’re not going to talk to them–which it sounds like they’re willing to listen but it’s all about who you’re comfortable talking to–you at least should talk to someone else. instead of holding in all your anger, find a way to get it out. set boundaries with your coach, practice spiking and receiving volleyballs without him around, and hit those fuckers as hard as you want. maybe give atsumu a broken nose,” she looks up with a cheeky smile on her face, the both of them sharing a small laugh, and things start to feel more natural as they talk. “or you could find something to do outside of volleyball so that you don’t burn out. find someone to hang out with, outside of your teammates, so that you have an area or relationship in your life not associated with your job. things like that, does that make sense?”

he nods again, and she finishes typing out her notes, which served as a good distraction to stop herself from focusing too much on him. “do any of those suggestions feel right for you? if you’re stressed about how you have all these problems that aren’t getting fixed, i'm trying to brainstorm ways for you to improve them.”

 he replies with the response he’s been formulating in his head to address all of her suggestions, “finding someone or something to do outside of volleyball would be nice, and i think i’ve already found that person, but i always get stuck in my head about how shitty i am. no one actually likes me, everyone’s just tolerating me. maybe my friends care about me, but eventually, they’ll get tired of my problems or how i treat them so horribly. i'm my own reason for why everything in my life has gone to hell, and it makes me feel like i don’t deserve anything good. i’m too scared to ever speak my mind, and i end up hurting everyone i’ve ever cared about, including you. i left you when you needed me the most.”

her fingers have been flying across her keyboard, but they freeze, splayed out hovering above the keys at his last sentence, “what are you talking about?” she asks her throat closing up.

“atsumu made me realize it was my fault we got distant, and it was when you needed the most help, too. i never said anything first when you started to drift, and you thought it was your fault. i’m sorry,” he answers, hooded eyes boring into her own. they’re as passive as always, yet she can feel how genuine his words are and can’t find it in her to look away.

she shakes her head, trying to force herself out of the daze, “sakusa– don’t– focus on you. don’t talk about us right now.” she makes herself look back down at her computer. she’ll makes a note to chew out atsumu for being an instigator, but for now gives him her full attention. she listens to the rest of his anxieties, reassuring him while holding back things she wants to say that are too personal and emotional to be professional.

she wants to stand up and hug him. tell him that he deserves love and he hasn’t ruined anything. that even if he’s made mistakes, that’s normal, and it’s not the end of the world. she wants to tell him that she forgives him and that none of his friends are looking at him in fear; they just want to know how best to support him, but he isn’t telling them how. he’s sitting in her office, apologizing and bringing himself down for not supporting her when she needed it, and he thinks he's selfish.

he couldn’t be more wrong. she wants to tell him how well he’s doing, acknowledging his problems and trying to save his relationships. she’s been crying for a reason as to why he left her for years, and here’s his apology now. she couldn’t be more moved by his words, and it’s like all this time she’s spent, hoping he would come back into her life and truly be there has paid off. although he left for a time, he came back. he didn’t leave her when times got tough purposely, it was just a typical case of miscommunication, which she admits was also partially her fault and apologizes for.

they go 15 minutes past when their allotted time should’ve ended, and it takes all of the strength in her to set her computer aside and signal that their time is up. they agree to meet again next wednesday, and then he asks her one more question that makes her freeze, hand wrapped around her door handle.

“is it okay if i text you outside of therapy? and not just as a client?” he’s too nervous to finish the question, but the implication is clear: ‘can i text you as a friend?’

she wants to say yes, but the question weighs heavy in her mind, and she stops to really consider it. is it right for her to keep in such close contact with a patient, and regard them as more than such? she thinks it’s okay. atsumu and her have been fine. it’s not the same as with sakusa, because her feelings for him go deeper than even just being friends, but it’ll be okay. because most of all, she wants to be a root for him. if he needs her to keep listening to him, she will always listen to him and be there for him, outside of their hour or not.

“yes, that’s fine,” she finally answers, turning to him. “and maybe that’ll keep this from becoming a habit. i’m not supposed to keep you past your appointment so long, you know,” she scolds playfully, a small smile on her face. she opens the door for him, holding it open with her back pressed against it as he walks past her.

there’s a smile on his face, too, and it doesn’t feel so scary anymore when he stops in front of her, his head tilting down to look at her, “you’re the one who suggested for me to have someone outside of work to talk to. i want that to be you.”

she tries not to let the words affect her too much, but a chill runs down her spine under his piercing gaze. she crosses her arms, looking back at him, ignoring how he towers over her as best as she can, “you’re surprisingly bold and demanding for someone who was just mulling about how no one likes you.”

“wow, do you talk to all your clients like this? listening to them and then turning around and using their insecurities against them on their way out?” he teases, and she swears he leans closer. there’s a tension between them, but it’s different than before. it's not bad, they're joking with each other now, they're just looking at each other like they want to say something more.

“just you and atsumu,” she shoots back, and for the first time since their fingers brushed the night he walked her home, she touches him, a hand on his chest to push him back before she overheats from his proximity. “you both have rubbed off on each other too much, all sass and no bite. you need to go, or else i’ll get in trouble.”

he obeys her touch, turning back to walk out the door as he chuckles, “with who? no one’s waiting out here. you’re just kicking me out to be rude.”

she waves him off, shooing him out the room, “just text me. i’ll respond, i promise.”

he turns back to her once more, a look in his eye that she almost wants to describe as gratefulness or adoration. she can’t say she’s not looking at him the same way back, or deny how her heart’s beating rapidly in her chest.

they’re going to text. they’re going to talk again like friends. they’re going to try this again.

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

CRANKED THIS OUT IN ONE DAY SO IF THERE'S MISTAKES I'M SORRY

lots of yapping i'm sorry <3 i just really wanted to develop and add depth to the both of their characters!! with them having actual feelings and y/n giving actual advice rather than skipping over what their therapy sessions look like!!

and the parallels of their first meeting to their second one <3 who talks and says something they don't mean first <3 omi walking past y/n the first time vs. when he does actually stop in front of her <3

yeah they were def looking at each other when he stopped in front of her

all of y/n's plants are named after like carpentry/construction tools

my favorite is dewalt cordless hammer drill 20v

taglist: @eggyrocks @wyrcan @guitarstringed-scars @strawberryuri @violetesensou @kakeru-eem @glmge @heytheredemonsss @mollyrolls @bemebiu @daszy @snail-squasher @0moonii @thiisisntlovely @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @iiwaijime @iatethemochi @yuminako @savemebrazilhinata @kismyscars @bokutoko @nobodybutnnoorr @wolffmaiden @daisy-room @softpia @lees-chaotic-brain @v3nusplanetofluv @crispchocolates @phoenix-eclipses @hhoneyhan @encrypta @rockleeisbaeeee @cr4yolaas @zombriesworld @localgaytrainwreck @moucheslove @hibernatinghamster @notverymarley @certaindreampost @akaakeis @ciderscape @lucien-luna @strawbrinkofdeath @wave2mia @samuel1004 @01trickster10 @dazqa @cosmiicdust @chemiru (form to be added to taglist! <3)

[hsangel64]

bandmates pt. 7 !

pairings: bassist!ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: it’s been a couple of weeks and you and ellie were officially together but ellie has been acting suspicious and it feels like you're together only behind closed doors.

warnings: angst angst angst (sorry !!), cussing, slight smut, use of y/n

a/n: i am trying my best to be back and write, ive been in the process of moving and i just got in the mindset to write!! I had a plan for this and then stopped writing this for a while so this series will have more than just a couple of chapters left, i'm not sure yet!! anyways good to be back hope you enjoy!!

you and ellie were doing fine, great even! but only in your guys' room. you have been so happy the past few weeks, but it was starting to feel a little off. you didn't think much of it but that still didn't stop that small anxious pit in your stomach from forming. you liked ellie so much and was so happy this was finally reality that you didn't see the red flags ahead of time.

"do we really have to go to this stupid get together?" ellie whined and you giggled.

"yes unfortunately we do, speaking of which we need to get up really soon to get ready." ellie groaned and turned away from you and got out of bed. she walked over to her closet while pouting and grabbed some clothes considering we were only in underwear....

you sat up and grabbed an outfit from your closet. ellie came up from behind you and kissed your cheek and made her way down to your neck. you giggled and squished her face in your neck, you tried to push her away, but she fought against your small weak nudges.

"ellie we can't, we have to go dina and jesse really want us there to meet these people."

"we could be late." she said in that sultry voice she puts on. you felt a shiver down your spine and so badly wanted to fall for it but you knew how much this meant to dina and didn't want to let her down.

"no els we gotta go i don't want to let dina down." you laughed as she kept kissing you neck and reaching down you back. she turned you around and kissed your lips, you melted into her mouth and couldn't resist the urge to just go for yet another round of the day, but you fought back and slowly pulled away. you gave her that look a sad puppy dog would give and she groaned and then smiled at you.

"ugh fine, only because you're cute and i love you." you let out a small gasp, ellie hadn't said i love you yet. a small smile made it to your face and she smiled back.

"i love you too." you smiled at each other and kissed again, you both went on and got ready for the get together.

----

you two were sitting on the couch together next to dina and jesse at someone's house you didn't know, you just wanted to be home with ellie. the air felt super awkward and ellie felt a little distant. you didn't think much of that until you all introduced yourselves.

"this is ellie and y/n!" dina introduced us to everyone else and they all collectively said hello.

"how did you all meet?" one of the girls asked and ellie answered.

"y/n and i have been friends since before we could remember and met dina and jesse in high school band class. we all became really good friends and formed our band, coastal."

"that's really cool, you guys all seem so close is it just dina and jesse together? some girl asked while making flirty eyes with ellie.

"yeah it is, me and y/n are best friends and i wouldn't have it any other way." your face shifted and you gently whipped your head towards ellie in a questioning way, she was already looking at the girl with that same flirty look and you turned away and excused yourself to the bathroom. dina noticed your change in behavior and decided to follow after you. you quickly made your way to the bathroom before dina could make it in and you closed the door in front of her face.

"babes are you okay? what happened?" you tuned her questions out and your mind drifted. you could tell something was wrong, you knew it felt weird that you two weren't going on dates or that she acted different outside of the dorm. you saw all the red flags but was too oblivious to see what was going on. your eyes slowly filled with tears and you didn't even realize you were crying until you snapped back into reality and heard dina bang on the door.

"hey, are you okay what's going on??" you turned and opened the door, dina gasped and pushed her way into the room seeing your state.

'what's going on, talk to me." she held your face and wiped your tears, you felt so overwhelmed with emotions and couldn't make out the words so you said.

"ellie is an asshole." she looked at you saddened and nodded her head saying i know, she grabbed you and pulled you into her. you silently cried into the crook of her neck and just felt so angry. you were mad at yourself for thinking this was going to work. you didn't want to cry anymore about it so you gently pulled away and turned to the faucet and wiped your face down of the mascara streaks. dina helped you pull yourself together and you both made your way back into the living room. everyone was preoccupied with mario kart on the tv and didn't even notice you two coming back. you sat down on the couch next to jesse and dina occupied the spot next to ellie. she turned over and looked at you and nodded her head asking if you were okay. you looked away and dina pushed her head towards the tv and diverted her attention away from you.

for the rest of the time you guys were there you sat on the couch with your back against the cushion and your head slouched. dina tried her best to stop ellie from talking to you and left you alone till you guys left.

----

when you guys were getting ready to leave you all said your goodbyes and you saw ellie and that girl exchange numbers, you felt sick to your stomach and didn't want to face her in the car. you turned away and walked out of the house without anyone, you guys weren't to far from the dorm so you just decided to walk on your own.

as you walked you made it to the gas station right by the school so you stopped for a slushy. you walked in and grabbed the biggest size, you needed this. you also grabbed some ice cream and made your way out. you sat on the curb for a little and pulled out your phone to a million notifications.

40 texts from ellie, 20 missed calls from dina, it all felt too much. so you texted dina and said you were fine and just decided to walk home. dina proceeded to cuss you out in your texts and raved about how dangerous that was for you to walk alone by yourself. you rolled your eyes and got up from the curb and walked to rest of the way towards the campus.

you found your way back and checked their locations to see they were home so you just knocked on the door. ellie answered and quickly let you in. you made your way to your shared room and grabbed some clothes.

"hey what happened back there?" she quietly asked and you rolled your eyes. you made your way to the shower but not before ellie squeezed her way through the door.

"bee what's wrong?" she grabbed your arm and you felt sick, you pushed her away and started to take your makeup off before your shower. she put her hand back on you and you pushed her away again getting frustrated now.

"why do you keep pushing me away, what happened back there?" you pushed her away hard and felt that tickle in your throat. you grumbled and said wouldn't you like to know under your breath, but it wasn't very quiet, so she heard.

"what do you mean? i would like to know. what's up with you?"

"i don't know ellie you tell me."

"I don't know y/n that's why i'm asking." you rolled your eyes starting to get more frustrated with her.

"maybe it was the fact that you just called me your friend and not your girlfriend?? i guess i missed something but i thought us having sex all the time and calling each other girlfriends meant just friends."

"i just called you best friend it isn't a big deal i'm sorry." she didn't sound sorry.

"it's a big deal to me ellie."

"well, i'm sorry." she shrugged and you scoffed at her nonchalant movement.

“i really don’t want to deal with this can you please leave i want to shower.” she didn’t pick up a fight and left. you sighed and wiped your face from any left over tears. you made your way into the shower and let the warm water help you forget about your thoughts for just one second.

————

a/n: i’m sorry this was short !! it was more of a filler before we get into some good angst and drama!! chapter 8 and possibly 9 will be out tomorrow!!

taglist:

@gold-dustwomxn @lil-elliesgf @hopelesssheaven @elliestears @cjrights

[sissylittlefeather]

Let's Forget About the Stars: Chapter 11

A/N: I'm back! Maybe. But I wrote this and I really love it, so I hope you will too. Here's another chapter of our lovely Dovey and Jumbee. We pick up with Gladys in the hospital and Dove sitting on a big secret. Enjoy!

Need to catch up? Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, but also pregnancy, morning sickness, illness and death

Word count: ~2.6k

"It'll be okay, Jumbee. Whatever happens, I'm here. It'll be okay."

But she's not sure she believes it either.

******

Elvis sends Dove to Memphis immediately to be with his mama and promises to follow her as soon as he can. In an unfortunate twist of events, her morning sickness begins on the train to Memphis and she's ill the whole time. When she finally arrives and Vernon picks her up at the train station, she's pale and weak and sweaty. He does his best not to notice as he drives her to the hospital to see Gladys. She manages to compose herself enough to make it into her room, but the second Vernon leaves the two women alone, she rushes to the bathroom and vomits.

“You sick, baby?” Gladys calls from her bed. Even ill, she's caring for everyone around her.

“It's nothing catching, Mama. I promise.” She comes out of the bathroom and sits down, pulling a mint from her purse. Gladys looks her up and down and suppresses a smile.

“How far along are you?” Dove’s eyes flick up to meet the older woman’s quickly and she shakes her head.

“I-I-I-no-I’m just… food poisoning…”

“Right. And I've got allergies.” Gladys purses her lips and gives Dove the look.

“Almost 12 weeks.”

“Does Elvis know?” Dove shakes her head and tries not to cry.

“He said he didn't want this yet.”

“Oh, baby, c’mere.” Gladys pats the bed next to her and Dove perches on it gently, letting her take her hand. “He will be happy as a clam. Once he gets over his initial shock, that is.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” Gladys pats her hand softly and then grins broadly. “I'm gonna have a grandbaby!”

Dove laughs. The older woman’s joy is contagious.

“Yes ma'am, I suppose you are.” The two women spend the next half hour or so discussing plans for a nursery, baby names, and the merits of breastfeeding. When Vernon returns, Gladys puts her finger to her lips and Dove smiles, enjoying their secret.

******

Elvis arrives a couple of days later and immediately meets his family at the hospital. He spends the next day and a half by his mother’s side. That night, she encourages him to take Dove out and then sleep at Graceland. She's hoping that the next time she sees him, he'll know about the baby and they can share in the joy together. But there's something else, too. Something dark and looming and she doesn't want him there for it, just in case.

Everything about the night feels off, though. For some reason, Dove never seems to find the right moment to tell him. She's filled with a kind of nervous energy that doesn't fade no matter what she does. Elvis tries to settle her, completely unaware of anything at all. He kisses her neck gently and tries to slide his hand up under her skirt, but she pulls away.

“Not tonight.”

“Aw Dovey, why not?” He looks at her with his blue eyes pleading.

“It just doesn't feel right. I can't say why.” She sighs, flustered by what she's feeling and he caresses her cheek gently.

“Whatever it is baby, it's okay. I'm here. Let's just get in bed and I'll hold you. Okay?” She nods and they both put on pajamas to settle into the bed. Dove is filled with thoughts about the future and she has a hard time relaxing. Something is wrong, but she can't figure out what it is. Praying it's not the baby, she tries to go to sleep. Elvis is wrapped around her, breathing quietly in her ear and she focuses on matching her inhales and exhales to his. Before too long, she drifts off too.

They're not asleep for very long before the phone rings. Elvis groggily curses and drags himself out of bed, ready to berate whoever is on the line. Dove rolls over and closes her eyes, but she freezes when she hears him.

“Oh God, no.” His knees hit the floor and the phone receiver hangs by the cord as he immediately weeps. Dove is out of bed in a second, pulling Elvis to her chest with one hand and picking up the phone with the other.

“Hello?” She hears someone crying on the other end and her stomach churns.

“Dove?”

“Yeah, Vernon, it's me.” Her blood runs cold when he sobs again.

“She's gone.” That's all he can choke out, but it's all he needs to say for Dove to understand that Gladys is dead. Elvis wails even louder, hearing it again and Dove hangs up the phone without even saying goodbye.

“Oh, Jumbee…”

“I should've been there! I'll never forgive myself for leaving.” He soaks her chest with tears and cries uncontrollably like a child. Dove’s body is wracked with sobs as well, but she tries to focus on Elvis's grief.

“No, Jumbee, there was no way of knowing this would happen.”

“Why did she tell us to leave?! Oh God!” As Elvis clings to her, weeping, she starts to wonder how he will react when he finds out the baby is the reason she wanted them to have a night alone. All of a sudden, she's crying for two reasons as she holds the shaking frame of her shattered husband.

This becomes a familiar position in the days that follow. He spends most of his time crying, either next to Gladys’s casket or, after the service, in Dove’s arms. She does everything she can to be what he needs, but what he needs is his mother and she can't be that.

Elvis is broken and Dove is broken watching him. Her helplessness overwhelms her and she hangs on by a thread. The thread is Elvis's need for someone to stay strong. The only thing that carries her through is the knowledge that he needs her.

People try various things to cheer him up, but Dove doesn't. She simply is for him: a safe place for him to fall apart as often as he needs. And he does, frequently. It takes every ounce of her strength to keep herself together for him.

In what feels to Dove like not nearly enough time, Elvis is called to go back to Fort Hood. She follows him to the house in Killeen, but nothing feels the same without Mama. Somehow, her morning sickness subsides as quickly as it came on and she's fine, albeit a little more tired than usual. She mopes around the house when Elvis is gone, carrying his pain deep in her chest.

And then one particularly bad night, the night before he's set to take the train north to sail to Germany, Elvis is wrapped around Dove crying as she strokes his hair.

“I jus’ don't see the point without Mama. I don't wanna be here no more. It hurts too bad.” Elvis groans into her chest. Dove tries to hide the sob that comes out of her, but she can't. The thought of being without him is too much. And the baby in her belly has her on the edge of a total and complete breakdown. He sits up when he realizes she's damn-near hysterical. “Dovey…”

“No. Ignore me. I'm sorry.” She tries to contain her sobs, but it's like the past few weeks are all hitting her at once and everything she's suppressed is pouring out of her like a broken tap.

“Dove. I'm not going to ignore you. Talk to me.” He reaches up to stroke her cheek from his place between her legs on the bed. If he was paying any attention, he would notice the changes in her body from this position, but Dove is thankful that he hasn't.

“It's fine. I'm fine. I'm sorry.” He sits up and pulls her into his lap and takes her face in both hands.

“Eleanor Morningstar Presley. I'm your husband. Tell me what's going on.” She looks into his eyes and it comes tumbling out of her before she can stop it.

“I'm pregnant.” He blinks a few times and she wants to scream and die and throw up all at once. “I'm s-”

“Don't you dare apologize. Dovey, how long have you known?” He tries to do the math back to the last time they had sex.

“Since July. I'm about 17 weeks.” His eyes widen in shock.

“Seventeen weeks?!” She nods slowly, bracing herself for some kind of negative response from him.

“I know, I'm s-”

“This is amazing.” She freezes with her mouth hanging open.

“A-amazing?” She looks at him as a smile, the first smile she's seen from him in weeks, crawls across his face.

“Yes. Amazing. Dovey, why didn't you tell me?!”

“Well, I was going to and then… Mama…” He darkens a bit.

“Did she know?” Dove nods.

“Yes. She did. That's why she sent us home that night, so I could tell you.” Understanding washes over him.

“Why didn't you?”

“I don't know. It just didn't feel right. I couldn't, knowing she was sick. Are you mad?”

“No. I'm glad she knew.”

“Oh yeah. We talked about all kinds of things, the nursery, names-”

“Names? Dovey…?” He looks at her with his eyes wide and pleading.

“Yeah, Jumbee?”

“Can we name her after Mama?” Elvis whispers. Dove sniffles as the tears fill her eyes.

“Her?” She looks at him lovingly. He nods vehemently.

“She's a girl. I can feel it.” She watches as he lifts her shirt to reveal her small baby bump. “God, how did I not notice?”

“You've been a little… distracted. It's okay.”

“No. You're my wife. This is our family. Mama would want me focused on this.” He puts his hand on her belly gently. “Our baby is in there.”

Dove giggles despite herself.

“Yeah, she is.” He leans forward and kisses her stomach gently and then whispers against her skin.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For giving me a reason to go on. I wouldn't be me without you. And now we have this to look forward to. Mama would be so mad if she thought I wanted to leave you both for her.” Dove breathes a deep sigh, releasing all of the stress and grief she's been holding on to.

“I love you, Jumbee.” He smiles up at her and kisses her belly again.

“I love you too, my Dovey.”

“We'll get through this.”

“Yeah, we will. All three of us.” He rubs his hand over the baby and nuzzles into her neck. “I'm so glad I married you.”

“Me too, Jumbee. Me too.”

******

The next morning, Elvis and Dove wake up early and lay in bed together dreading the time that they'll have to get up for him to leave for Germany. She's nestled into his side like she always is and he has his arms wrapped around her with his lips on her forehead.

“You'll be over there with me in less than two weeks. We've been apart before. We'll be fine.” Elvis sounds like he's reassuring himself more than her as he mumbles against her skin. Dove looks up at him and nods and he leans down to press his lips to each of her cheeks and then her lips. He pulls back a bit, blue eyes sparkling with affection and something else. She knows that look and it surprises her to see it, but she's not going to argue as he leans forward again, this time hungrily capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. It doesn't take long for the kiss to move into more, their tongues dancing wildly as hands slide over skin and up under pajamas.

He rolls over on top of her, sensually pressing his hips into hers as he drops a trail of kisses along her jawline and down her neck. She moans softly as he quickly unbuttons her shirt, but as soon as his hand touches her belly, he stops suddenly.

“Can I- can we- is it gonna hurt the baby?” He asks breathlessly. Dove giggles and kisses him gently.

“It won't hurt her. She's safe.” He nods and looks down at her tiny bump between them.

“That's good because I'm not sure I could stop now even if I wanted to.” He dives back into kissing her deeply, rolling his hips against her and letting his hard cock press into her center. “I need ya, baby. It's been too damn long.”

Dove whimpers as he finishes undressing her and strips off his own pajamas. He lays on his side and pulls her in close to him, throwing her leg over his hip. She sighs as he runs his fingertips over her body, stopping to squeeze her breast and her ass. He teases her entrance with the tip of his dick, slipping it around in her arousal.

“So good and wet for me, baby. You want this cock?” He murmurs against her lips. Dove whimpers and nods.

“God, yes. I need it.”

She moans loudly as he slowly starts to push into her, inch by tantalizing inch, his hand on her hip to steady her.

“Fuck, baby, you're so tight. I love this little pussy.” He groans as he bottoms out, his dick fully buried inside her. Dove’s eyes cross with the sensation of being filled as he slides out and rolls his hips forward to meet hers again.

“It's so good, Jumbee.” He kisses her softly as he picks up a steady rhythm of fucking into her slow and gentle. Maybe it's the pregnancy, or the fact that it's been so long, but when Elvis slips his hand in between them to rub circles on her clit, Dove cums almost immediately, moaning and grasping at his shoulders as her orgasm screams through her veins, lighting her on fire from the inside out.

The feeling of her pussy pulsing and squeezing his cock is almost too much for Elvis to take. He grunts and buries his face in her neck as his hips snap against her over and over again.

“Gonna… oh god, fuck!” He groans into her hair as his hips stutter against hers and he cums deep inside her. His body relaxes and he whispers. “I missed you.”

He lifts his head up and looks into her eyes, cupping her cheek with his hand. She smiles softly and kisses the end of his nose.

“I missed you too.”

******

At the train station, Dove stands on the platform watching as Elvis waves to fans. The Colonel has demanded that she stay back and let him be Elvis Presley. He even has his hand on her arm to keep her next to him. Neither she nor Elvis told him about the baby.

Just before the doors close, Dove yanks her arm away and takes off for the train. When he notices, Elvis's smile switches from the one he gives for pictures into his natural smile and he leans down, grabbing the back of her head and pulling her into a deep kiss. The cameras go wild, but they don't care.

The Colonel curses and Vernon just shakes his head laughing.

“Colonel, you lost. Elvis and Dove are gonna be Elvis and Dove. You might as well embrace it. He'll get rid of you long before he gets rid of her.”

The Colonel shoves his cigar in his mouth and turns around, huffing. He's beaten and he knows it.

As the train pulls away, Elvis is left with the image of Dove on the platform. He watches as she gasps and grabs her stomach, laughing with delight. That's the first time she's felt the baby move. She's lit up with joy and Elvis can't help but smile widely, knowing he'll never forget this picture of her with her eyes bright and her dark hair blowing in the wind. Dove looks down at her baby bump and runs her hand over it.

“Steady, little girl. We'll see daddy soon enough.”

******

Until next time...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69

[distorted59]

A Week In San Francisco pt.2

summary: after sharing a heated kiss the night before, James and y/n are a little on edge when they visit the beach.

pairing: Kill 'Em All!James x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw/smut, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, p in v, james likes to beg a little, cute lil' aftercare in the end

word count: 3344

A/N: sorry it took a while! honestly took me longer than expected lol. hope you enjoy it, babes! xo

part 1

✪

The fact that she even got a few hours of sleep is a fucking miracle itself. The butterflies in her stomach almost made it impossible to fall asleep. 

But, here she is. Sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a cigarette in her hand. She’s wearing a beach-sundress and a simple bikini underneath. And honestly, she’s really excited to go to the beach. 

Kirk shuffles into the kitchen, wearing his glasses and his hair is messy. His favorite ‘Dracula’ t-shirt is completely wrinkled and slightly raised, showing his belly. 

“Morning,” y/n grins. “I see you slept very well?”

"Mhm." Kirk kisses the top of her head and yawns. 

He goes over to the counter and pours himself a cup of coffee, he is a bit wobbly but he can still keep his balance. He goes to sit down next to y/n and smiles at her.

“How did you sleep? Did everything go okay last night?” 

She almost chokes on her coffee, but luckily she doesn’t. A slight blush creeps on her face. Y/n quickly puts out her cigarette in the ashtray in front of her and tries to hide her blush with a smile. 

“Yeah, I slept fine!” She assures him. 

"Great." Kirk moves his hand through his hair. “You know, James told me he spoke to you last night.”

“He did?” She looks into his eyes. “What did he say?” 

“That he told you we’re going to the beach today!” Kirk grins excitedly. “I see you’re all ready to go!” 

Y/n breathes out slowly through her nose. It would be kinda dumb to immediately tell a guy you kissed his sister, right? But, hey. Anything can happen with these guys. 

“Yeah, you know I love going to the beach!” 

They sit in a comfortable silence for a bit, sipping their coffee and enjoying the morning sun that is shining through the kitchen window. 

Until that is interrupted by a fucking war cry.

“Cliff! I swear to god, man! I claimed the bathroom first!” 

“You’re too slow, Hetfield!”     

Lars walks into the kitchen rolling his eyes, “Morning, guys.” He opens the refrigerator and grabs a carton of orange juice. “How did your first night in the Metallica Mansion treat you, y/n?” 

“It treated me wonderfully, thank you.” 

“Great!” He smiles. “That’s really good to hear.”

Later on, Cliff walks in with a big grin on his face. He sits down next to Kirk and looks at y/n and her cigs. “Good morning, can I?” 

“Morning! ‘Course you can.” She slides the pack towards him and he lights one. Cliff thanks her and shoots her a wink, y/n nods back and grins. 

“Dude, are you flirting with my baby sister?” Kirk leans back in his chair and raises his brows.

“Me? Oh, I wouldn’t dare.” Cliff grins, “Can’t say I’m speaking for everyone, though…” 

“Morning everybody!” James walks in, unusually cheerful for this time of the day. “Is there still some coffee left?” 

“Yeah,” Kirk says. “Over on the counter”

“Thanks, dude!” He grabs a mug and pours himself some, leaning against the counter and eying y/n curiously. 

It’s almost like she can feel it, because she turns around and smiles at James. She holds up her mug. “James?” Her voice is sickly sweet, oh yeah, today is going to be that type of day. “Could you pour me another one?”

His eyes almost popped out of his skull, he hadn’t even really noticed what she was wearing. The way she’s looking and talking to him is making James weak at the knees. 

“Y-yeah, of course!" He takes the mug from her hands and shakily pours the coffee in, trying not to spill. 

The other guys are talking about what they're planning on doing at the beach today. Kirk and Lars are arguing over something and Cliff doesn’t know what conversation he wants to keep up with. 

“Here you go.” He decides to sit next to her this time and puts on his best charms. 

“Thank you!” She grins. 

“So,” James starts. “Did you sleep okay, sweetheart?” 

Her heart skips a beat at the nickname and she looks at him without breaking eye contact.

“I slept great. How about you, sweetheart?” she grins playfully. 

“Me too, me too.” He looks into her eyes, not saying anything else. 

The argument between Kirk and Lars has quieted down and one of them lets out a cough.

“So, is everyone ready to go?” Lars speaks up. 

“Yes, more than ready.” Kirk eyes James and y/n suspiciously. “Let's get moving.” 

Everyone gets ready and grabs their stuff; towels, sunscreen, and beer. You know, the essentials. 

It’s a short walk to the beach, but the morning heat isn’t really working with them. James keeps trying to walk next to y/n, but Kirk doesn’t allow it. everytime James tries to pick up his pace, Kirk closes the gap between him and his sister. 

“What are you doing, dude?” y/n raises her brows at Kirk. 

“Just walking next to you, is that a problem?” He nudges her shoulder.

“No, but…” She starts.

“Good, we’re almost there.” Kirk cuts her off and smiles. 

They arrive at the beach and find a good spot, putting their towels down and enjoying the warm sun on their already tanned skin. 

Y/n takes off her dress and sits down on her towel, all of the boys take a quick glance at her and sit down as well. Kirk glares at the three, but doesn’t say anything. 

“Aw, man!” Kirk groans in annoyance. “We forgot the radio!” 

“What? No way, I definitely grabbed it before we left!” Cliff frowns and looks around. 

“Well, It’s not here.” Lars sighs. “We’ll go grab it.” He grabs Kirk’s arm and drags him along. 

Kirk protests and looks over at y/n, who is grinning at her brother and gives him a small wave. 

“Why do I have to come along?” He whines, but walks with Lars anyway. 

Y/n lays down and shuts her eyes. Feeling some movement beside her, she holds her hand in front of her face so that the sun won't bother her eyes, and looks up.

“Can I lay next to you?” James asks. 

“Of course!” She tries to hide her excitement. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He grins and lays down. 

Cliff starts laughing and lights another cigarette. He sits up and cracks open a beer. “You’re welcome, guys.” 

Both James and y/n turn to look at Cliff with confusion, this only makes him laugh more. 

“What?” He grins. “You got a little more freedom with Kirk gone, right?” 

“Dude, what the hell are you talking about?” James raises his brows.

“The radio, I hid it under my bed.” 

Y/n starts laughing too, she nudges James and hands him a bottle of sunscreen. “Could you get my back?”

“Yeah!” James' eyes widen and so does his smile. "Definitely!" 

She turns around and loosens her top, making sure he gets every inch of her back. James puts some lotion in his hands and starts putting it on her back, squeezing every curve. 

“I still don’t get the radio thing.” He whispers. 

“Babe, he’s buying us some time.”

“Babe?” James grins. “Time for… oh, oh.”

His hands go a little lower, they slide over her waist and his fingers go down to  her waist. He goes back to her shoulders and he gets closer to her ear. 

“Could you put your arms up for me, babe?”  He whispers. 

She complies as she simply can’t answer him. She wanted to reply with a snarky comeback, but she couldn't. His voice sending shivers down her spine, she can feel his breath against her hair. 

“There we go.” James gives the back of her neck a slight squeeze and his hands slide down her sides. He slowly caresses the side of her breasts and then quickly goes to her back, tying her bikini back up. “You’re all set, gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” She breathes out. Holy fucking shit, his hands feel good. 

He lays down on his stomach and scoots a little closer to her, his fingers playing with the back of her top. 

“Or do you want me to keep going?” He whispers. “I could if you let me.”

“Where are you getting all this confidence from?” She looks into his eyes, trying to read him. 

James smiles and his hand wanders lower, sliding to the side of her bikini bottom. 

“I finally figured out what I want.” 

“And that is?”

“You, y/n. I need you.” He looks at her lips. “The way your lips felt on mine is driving me crazy.” 

“Hm, you are a good kisser.” y/n smiles and turns to lay on her side. 

“So are you, baby.” He slides his hand over her waist and he stops at her hips.

For a moment, they just stare at each other, he leans closer to her face. James’ weaves his fingers between the fabric of her bottoms, his gaze wandering as he admires her curves. 

“Careful there, big guy.” She whispers, teasing him with a smirk. “We don’t want to give all these people a show here, do we?”

She glances at some beachgoers who are watching them fool around. She feels his eyes on her and turns to face him, raising an eyebrow flirtatiously.

“Hm, I don’t care.” James grins, leaning closer to her. “Please, I want you.”

“Don’t you think you need some too?” y/n grabs the sunscreen and holds it up, a mischievous smile on her face. “I wouldn't want you to get sunburned, baby” 

“Oh, you’re mean.” he groans. 

“So, you don’t want it?” She raises her brows.  

“I want… something.” James looks at her through his bangs. “Please?” 

She chuckles and lays down on her stomach again. The sun warming her skin and the waves crashing on the beach almost lull her to sleep. James huffs beside her and lays on his back. His hand creeps over her arm, tracing small circles over her soft skin. 

After a while of enjoying the sun and each other's company, Lars and Kirk finally show up with the radio.

“There you are, what the hell took you so long?” Cliff speaks up.

“Why’d you hide it under your bed, dude?” Kirk huffs, wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. 

“Dude, what?” Cliff tries to hide his smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, brother.”

The three bicker about the radio and y/n smiles, slowly closing her eyes again. The soft static of the radio and the crashing waves are really calming. She sighs softly and dozes off. 

Y/n wakes up a little while later, not knowing how much time has passed. Her back feels a little sore and she immediately winces, she still got burned. She looks over at James, who also fell asleep and gasps. 

“James!” She shakes him slightly. 

"Mhm?" He opens his eyes. “Yeah?” 

His entire chest and stomach are red, along with his face. This idiot didn’t apply any sunscreen at all. 

“Dude! You got burned!” Lars yells. “Like, bad!” 

“What?” James moves towards Lars and winces. “Ow, fuck! that burns.” 

“Yeah, no shit.” y/n sighs. “You are so fucking stubborn.” 

“It’s gonna hurt even more in the morning.” Kirk grimaces and looks at his sister. “You’re back looks fucked up too, sis.”

Y/n nods her head at Kirk. She stands up and puts on her dress, grabbing her stuff. 

“You have to get out of the sun, James.” She says. “I have some Aloe vera lotion in my bag at the house, you can use it.” 

James' eyes widen as he looks up at her, is this actually happening? 

“Are you going with him?” Kirk raises his brows.

“Yes, I am.” 

James doesn’t even speak, he is too busy grabbing his stuff. He’s almost like a madman, trying to find his shirt. 

“Okay,” Kirk kisses the side of her head. “Be careful.” He gives her a knowing look and squeezes her shoulder. 

“Ow!” She winces. “Kirk, that hurts!” 

“Sorry!” He chuckles. 

She walks away and nudges her head, motioning James to follow her. He doesn’t waste any time and runs after her. Lars throws him the keys to the house.

“Have fun, fuckers!” Lars yells after them.

“Dude!” Kirk groans and throws his shirt at Lars. “Please don’t!” 

James and y/n walk home together, the walk back almost seems slower than it was before. Their hands dangerously close to each other, every time their fingers brush they share a look. He shoots her a quick and excited smile and she returns it. 

James tries to unlock the front door but his hands are too shaky, eventually he gets the key in and opens it. 

“It’s in my room, come on.” She grabs his hand and pulls him down the hallway.

They both walk into her room and she pushes him to the mattress. “Sit.” 

James obliges and takes his shirt off, slightly uncomfortable with the feeling of the fabric against his sensitive skin. 

Y/n finds the lotion from her bag and walks closer to him, crawling onto the mattress and pushing him on his back. “Can I sit?” she motions to his lap.

James nods his head so hard it almost falls off. “Fuck yes, you can.” 

She smirks and straddles him, both of them letting out a quiet gasp. She can feel him hardening in his shorts and he can feel her heat. 

“Mmh” She hums softly and starts to put the lotion on his chest. 

“Ah!” He gasps. “That’s cold, y/n!” 

She giggles and continues to take care of his sunburn. Her hands slide over his chest, softly squeezing her fingers into his shoulders. James looks up at her with nothing but love in his eyes, he squeezes her hips making her moan softly. 

“Do that again.” James whispers. 

She grins and leans down to kiss his chest, making her way up to his neck. He lets out a growl and leans up, smashing his lips onto hers. She kisses him back passionately and smiles into the kiss. James’ grip on her hips tighten as he flips her around, laying her on her back. 

“James!” She gasps. “My back, remember?” 

“Don’t worry, baby.” He whispers. “I’ll take care of you.” 

He rubs the inside of her thighs and he goes a little higher, feeling how drenched her cunt already is. 

“You’re already so wet for me, baby.” He smiles and starts kissing her neck. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

“James, please…” She looks up at him, begging for him to stop teasing. 

“What? I have to prepare my girl, don’t I?” He smirks. 

She pushes him back and takes off her dress, along with her bikini top. James takes off his shorts, his cock springing free, begging for some attention. 

“Hmm, so pretty, baby.” He mutters, his eyes not leaving her breasts. “Fuck, you look perfect.”

James leaves another trail of kisses down her neck and breasts, his fingers playing with the hem of her bottoms. His other hand touching and squeezing her breast, while leaning up to kiss her lips hungrily. 

“Can I take these off, baby?” James whispers against her lips. 

“Yes, Fuck. Yes, you can.” y/n’s breath hitches in her throat. She looks up at James, her eyes glossy and her lips parted. 

He slides them off, desperate to feel her cunt around his cock. James slides his hand down her belly and starts to run circles on her clit. She gasps and reaches for his cock, starting with slow and agonizing strokes. 

“Fuck, you really like to play mean.” James stifles a moan and rubs his fingers over her folds. 

“Don’t hold your moans in, baby.” She pouts. “Wanna hear you too.” 

Y/n starts stroking him a bit faster, she feels her hand getting covered in his pre-cum. 

“Ah! ngh- Fuck!” James lets out the moan that has been stuck in his throat. “mhm! y/n… gonna… gonna prep you for me, okay?” 

She nods and kisses him again, moaning into the kiss as he slowly slides a finger into her drenching cunt. He starts finger-fucking her at a steady pace, the room is filled with sloppy wet noises and their moans. 

He adds another finger and goes faster, curling up his index and middle finger to hit the right spot. 

“Fuck, James!” She moans. “Your fingers… they… feel so good!” 

“Yeah? You like how I work my hands on you, baby?” He groans and goes faster. y/n’s hand starts tightening around his cock. 

“If you keep squeezin’ me like that, I’m not gonna last long.” James chuckles and leans down to kiss her again.

“Baby, ‘m close, please!” She moans and lets go of his cock.

“Cum on my fingers, baby.” He curls his fingers deeper into her and feels her cunt squeeze around them. All he can think about is how her pussy is gonna feel around his cock.

“Fuck!” y/n cums all over his fingers, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. 

James pulls his fingers out and sticks one of them into his mouth, tasting her juices. He lets out a delighted moan and sticks his other finger in her mouth. She sucks it clean without a single thought, looking up at him through her lashes. 

“Wanna be inside you…” He mumbles. “Please?” His face gets a little more flushed. 

“It’s cute that you ask so nicely.” She smiles up at him and guides his cock to her drenched pussy. “You gonna fuck me good, baby?”

“Mhm.” He slides his cock over her folds. “Gonna fuck you so good, baby.” 

He slowly pushes it inside of her and starts bucking his hips into her. Y/n cries out in pleasure, he’s hitting all the right spots. James leans down to kiss her again and thrusts a little faster. 

“Fuck!” James whines. “Been wanting to feel this pussy for so long!” He almost starts crying with how good it feels, how good she’s making him feel.

“James…” She moans “Keep going like that, please!” 

“I will, baby. I will.”

She doesn’t feel the sunburn on her back anymore, she only feels the incredible amount of pleasure James is giving her. She wraps her legs around his waist which makes James pound into her even harder. 

“Gettin’ close, baby.” James whispers against her neck. “I’m gonna need to pull out.” 

She just nods, she doesn’t care what he does to her. She just wants to cum around his cock. 

His thrusts are getting sloppier, meaning he’s gonna cum soon. He lets out some more strained moans and whimpers. 

“Gonna… gonna cum.” He pants.

“Me too, baby.” y/n whimpers.

He makes her cum, her stomach exploding with pleasure. She’s almost seeing stars with how hard she’s squeezing her eyes shut. James lets out a grunt and quickly pulls out, finishing all over her stomach. He keeps fucking his fist to ride out his high. 

“Shit…” James breathes heavily. 

“Yeah…” Her chest moves up and down, trying to calm down from the pure ecstacy sensation.

“I’m sorry for the mess.” James has a stupid grin on his face, but that can’t hide the tremendous blush which reappears on his face. “Let me clean you up.”

He grabs one of the beach towels that were scattered on the floor and starts wiping her stomach. He throws the towel on the ground and lays down on her chest. 

“You were amazing, baby.” y/n smiles and kisses him tiredly. 

“So, were you, babe.” James smiles into the kiss. 

They lay in each other's arms for a while, enjoying the comfortable silence between them. He has pulled her into his arms and they are softly caressing each other. 

“Can I sleep here with you tonight?” He whispers.

“What do you think, baby?” She giggles. “You just screwed me silly, of course you can.”