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earth4angels · 5 days ago

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WINTER LETTERS

SUMMARY: you will only find true love once in a lifetime. you claim to have seen it through the craft of art, but when you met the boy who laughed at your dad's jokes and waited for you in front of history class with a bag of cherries, love was marked differently for you. TAGS: friends to lovers, fluff, modern setting, slightly aged up characters, nerdy/popular history major jacaerys. corny, slight cliches. golden retriever boyfriend. based on this idea WORD COUNT: 3k

The music was loud to the point it vibrated against the wall in small rhythms, matching every beat of the sounds blasting through your record player. You hummed to the song playing, your right hand moving more delicately and intricately. A soft whine awoke you from the bubble you always created whenever you worked. In the figure of a small, one-year-old puppy sat Vermax who opened his mouth as he yawned, his nose twitching as a cute sneeze came upon him. You laughed softly, reaching down to cuddle the poor thing into your arms.

“I’m sorry buddy, mama has been mean to you huh?” you said as Vermax attempted to bite your fingers that now reached to ruffle the small ears of the golden retriever pup - his tailed waggled in annoyance. You swore you saw him frown. You feigned an offended gasp, “Oh my bad, I didn’t know the sir wanted attention.”

Vermax barked as he licked your face before resting his small head on your chest. It was a sign he wanted to stay by you. You grinned. Vermax was incredibly clingy and a needy dog, at times you thought Jacaerys - your now one-year boyfriend - influenced his behavior.

Your head tilted to the side, behind the canvas, onto the clock mounted on the wall. You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “You’re late.”

As you resumed to continue painting with a now snoring puppy on your lap, your phone rang. The flutter in your stomach made you grin, forgetting the small frustration that Jacaerys had not stopped by.

Before the words slipped out of your mouth, the rapid chatter of your boyfriend rang through your ear beautifully making you chuckle.

“I’m so sorry baby!!”

You heard panting and harsh heaving as he apologized before the sound of the slamming of a door. You figured he ran to his car after class was over. You shook your head in amusement, listening to the ramble of your never-ending chatty boyfriend.

He took a deep breath, “So, I meant to finish with the class before 4 but Professor Adams wanted to give us a surprise pop quiz before the finals next week! I swear that old lady wants to murder me! Can you believe she called on me five times in a roll attempting to embarrass me? Bad for her because I know the material, but couldn’t she call on fucking Lannister?!” Jacaerys rambled. You wondered how in the world did he talk so fast without breathing for air. You did not mind; in fact, it made your day whenever Jacaerys Velaryon spoke to you.

“Jace,” you said attempting to talk but your boyfriend was not done. Your mouth twitched, stifling a very heavy laugh now.

“Anyways! I’m sorry baby! I will be there soon! I hope Vermax wasn’t too much, I swear he likes you more than he likes me. But who can blame him? You’re amazing and beautiful. Kind. Did I say beautiful?” His chatter all landed in one breath.

You laughed hard, “Jacaerys breathe!”

Jacaerys paused before he took a big breath of air, “Seven hells… sorry. I did it again.”

“Apologizing for just telling me about your day? You must be insane now,” your fingers tangled themselves into the soft fur of Vermax as you continued, “I miss you. Vermax is okay, he slept all day and ate. He’s currently on my lap sleeping once again after throwing a tantrum of not being held. You are influencing him.”

Jacaerys laughed, “I didn’t! He just loves you as much as I do,” he paused, “Actually no, I love you more than he does, don’t let those big eyes of him fool you.”

The sound of your boyfriend’s voice echoed through your body, as if swimming, the waves relaxed you, floating through the deep waves. The grin never slipped.

“Drive safely Jace,” you said, “I miss you.”

The next words that came automatically had your heart jumping out of your chest like a rubber ball. You almost, almost, wanted to scream. You composed yourself.

“I will, I’m rushing to be yours soon, I love you.”

You released a small squeak, Jacaerys smiled smugly knowing you were blushing, the red staining your cheeks that began to hurt from all the smiling you held. He prided himself on such power, he was the only one who would ever make you swoon, and he swore to be the last.

“I love you more,” you squeaked, the heat of embarrassment overcoming the flatter as you cleared your throat to be heard as normal, “See you soon.”

Jacaerys chuckled, his laugh deep, “Bye my love.”

You hummed in response, knowing if you spoke another word, it would put you as a fool. You hung up after, your hand flying to your chest where you felt the rumble of your heart beating against your chest like hard slams against a drum. Get it together, you thought.

Vermax was awake now, his blue and green eyes shining bright as they eyed you. You felt judged by his stare. Even more so when he tilted his head to the side, his tongue licking his nose before continuing with his stare.

“What are you looking at you clingy baby? Your dad is silly! If you want to find a girlfriend Vermax, don’t be like your dad, your girlfriend will bite you,” you spoke to the child on your lap who continued to stare, his eyes holding a hinge of judgment, so you claimed, “I hate your dad.” You hmphed.

Vermax barked, his eyes rolling slightly. You gasped, a pout on your lips, “You traitor,” you picked him up before placing him on your bed where he laid his head on his paws as he stared.

You checked the clock on the wall if you calculated correctly, Jacaerys would be here in 20 minutes, which meant it gave you time to shower. You grimaced when you looked down to judge your state. You were wearing an old jumper, stained with paint everywhere, your hair was pulled back, held by a big hair clip. Quite frankly, you looked like a mess, but when you painted the outfit never mattered. You knew Jacaerys would never mind the way you looked, he never did, he would always receive you with a big smile that made his glasses slide up his nose and a kiss. A kiss that left you breathless every single time.

This time, however, you needed to change, so you rushed into a quick shower and a rapid change of clothes which was your boyfriend’s frat sweater and warm sweats as the weather was getting colder. Winter was here. By the time you finished combing your hair, the door locks being unlocked was heard and suddenly barking - excited barking. You rolled your eyes, of course, Vermax would make a ruckus over Jacaerys.

You applied lotion on your hands before hands wrapped around your waist, a low rumble was enough to make your knees weak. The power of Jacaerys Velaryon. You cursed inwardly. You feigned to be angry knowing it would not last more than ten seconds.

Jacaerys sighed into your neck, “I’ve missed you today.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, tapping his hands where they lay on your stomach.

Through the mirror you saw the way Jacaerys frowned, his bangs hanging over his eyes. You stifled a laugh.

“My love?” he attempted to coddle you, his voice softer, whinier, “Babe… I’m sorry! I should have called you earlier to let you know I was going to be home late.” His hands tightened around your waist when you showed no reaction; he began to press kisses on your neck. “Please don’t be mad,” he pouted.

You giggled, your body twitching as he pressed another kiss on your neck which tickled. He exhaled a breath of relief, “Don’t do that!”

You laughed, twisting around to meet him face to face, your hands wrapped around his neck as he leaned you against the bathroom sink. “Why not? I think it’s funny.”

“Not,” he said, his eyes shining with mischief, a smile on his face as he softly stared. The feeling returned then, the feeling of wanting to scream.

You nodded your head with certainty, a serious look on your face as you tried to hide the loud beating of your heart, “Oh yes.”

His eyes shifted to something dark, he licked his lips. Jacaerys scanned you, his eyes moving to trace the details of your face, memorizing every freckle, the shape of your eyes to the faint hue of his favorite color on your cheeks. His eyes stopped on your lips that were parted. His fingers dug into the sweater you wore, a sharp intake from his nose was all it took for you to know.

Jacaerys raised his eyebrow, the motion sending you into an immediate heart attack.

“Oh yeah? So do you think it will be funny if I,” he leaned towards you, a smirk on his lips as he saw you dazedly lean in, “… do this?” You were ready. Always ready. You needed it. The substance of his love and his dedication. You closed your eyes waiting for the flesh that melted against your lips, the taste of his cherry Chapstick. Jacaerys hummed, you felt his breath giving you a whiplash. He was so close. Suddenly he chuckled.

In a flash, you opened your eyes, and you saw your boyfriend leaning against the wall, a smirk on his lips. You growled in annoyance, jumping on him. A loud ‘oof!’ was heard.

“You evil!” you exclaimed as he held the flesh under your thighs to push you against him.

Laughing he looked up at you, “What? I think it’s funny,” he recalled the same words you gave him. Your eyes flashed with jest, “I hate you,” you pouted, your fingers into his small curls. You knew if he let his hair grow, the curls would be bigger erasing the flat of his hair.

“You know they say opposites attract,” his lips in a wide grin, “because I love you.”

Your face scrunched before groaning, “Ugh.”

Jacaerys raised his head to reach you, “Gimme kiss, I missed my girl.”

Your hands laid on his cheeks, a soft smile now rested on your lips, “You saw me this morning doofus.”

He peeked an eye open, before he whined, “Gimme a kissssssss.”

The explosions erupted, as it always did every single time you kissed Jacaerys Velaryon. His lips covered yours with such fire that left a tingling feeling after. You molded into his body as he did yours, your legs wrapped around his figure as it gave access to his hands that moved to rest on your back and another into the wet strands of your hair. A groan was heard as his hands pressed you closer. You smiled.

Jacaerys softly bit into your bottom lip before he smiled into the softness of your mouth, “I love you.”

To love Jacaerys felt easy for you, it was as if breathing. You loved everything about him, he was kind, patient, loving, a family man who fought for what he believed in, and he held such fire when it came to defending his family and loved ones. Cregan Stark once told you, “An angry Jacaerys is like watching a dragon feed on a sheep.”

You remembered how you looked at the tall man, you stared at him dumbly, “Cregan what the hell? How do you even know what a dragon looks like or how they hunt?”

Cregan only shrugged as he sipped on his beer, “Look, all I’m saying Jacaerys is scary. I feel for the people that cross him, shorty got fire.”

Jacaerys was very responsible, and calculative and walked with such confidence that made you wonder how in the hell you managed to grab his attention, but he claimed it was love at first sight. What you will never know was how Jacaerys admired you on the first day of orientation when you wrapped your hand around Alysanne, Cregan’s girlfriend, as you chatted about how excited you were to join the art club. He will never tell you how amazed and inspired he felt when he saw your artwork displayed in a gallery, your picture with a small introduction next to it was enough to send his head in a spiral. You were talented, quiet, and reserved, but you were also kind, as he often heard of a girl who helped the elderly in a local shelter that his family often helped out.

History was something he took pride upon, he loved to study, to learn of his ancestors, the history of his people, and the treasures lost but soon to one day be discovered. He took a lot of pride in his eagerness to expand his knowledge despite the person he looked like on the outside. Popular, rich, soon-to-be co-president of the frat house, a nerd? That was a contradiction, out of the status quo. However, he cared about nothing other than succeeding and making his family proud, the opinions of his family never made him hesitant or ashamed. He carried his last name with pride.

During the first year, Valyrian history was a class he excitedly enrolled in, and he almost broke his legs coming down steps to his seat when he saw you sitting in the second roll of the grand hall. He told the old gods how thankful he was to share a class with you. More he thanked the gods when the professor assigned a teammate project. There you sat, an awkward expression on your soft features, you looked around in anxiety, you knew no one and you had no idea how to approach someone new.

You jumped when a soft voice spoke from above you, “Do you want to be my partner?”

The book in your hands slipped as the stranger stood confidently, waiting for your response. Your cheeks became hot, “Uh… yeah., of course! I’d love to.” You cringed at the stutters and the disorganization of the spot where you sat. Jacaerys only smiled, though inside he was doing cartwheels.

“I’m Jacaerys Velaryon, first year,” he said as he smiled softly towards you. You organized your books, before eyeing his hand that reached for yours. You smiled politely as you gave your name.

“That’s a pretty name,” he said before he focused on the board as he listened intently. You blushed.

“Thank you,” you mumbled quietly, your face feeling like it was going to melt.

A friendship grew then, and in two weeks, you and Jacaerys became the biggest friends. You always thanked him for helping you with your history homework, but the only response you got was a shake of the head and a wave. He was more than happy to help you. Every Tuesday and Thursday in the mornings you met Jacaerys on the stairs to the main hall where the history lecture was held and in his hand was always a bag of cherries. Your favorite. The color stained your lips just as the color of your cheeks never left when you were beside him.

“Here,” you said one day before class. Jacaerys pushed his glasses up his head to hold his bangs back. His eyes rounded with confusion. You chuckled, “This is for you, as a thank you. You know… for being a good friend and helping me every single time.”

Jacaerys heart felt as if it was going to be heard by you, uncovering the deepest feelings he felt for you. In his hands now laid a handmade ceramic piece in the form of a dragon. The details were very defined, and he wondered how long it took you to finish, it looked professional, very rich in the colors, and you spent dedicated time crafting all the details onto the piece. He gasped as he saw the hidden message.

From you, comes the blood of the dragon.

His head snapped to meet you, his expression tender and appreciative, “Thank you, y/n.”

You smiled widely, your toes curling into the soles of your shoes as you beamed proudly, “You’re welcome Jace.”

The term ended but your friendship with the man you grew feelings for did not. In hidden messages, you showed your love through crafts, taking every technique, you learned in your studio classes to craft small things for the friend who held your heart. Jacaerys cherished those gifts more than his life, proudly showing it off that Cregan called him “Lovesick Romeo.”

Whether he kept the gifts or not, you will never know, but you hoped that he did, they were messages of your love for him.

During midterms, you jokingly mentioned his name sounded so ancient.

“I’m telling Mom you’re calling her old,” was all he said before he smiled when he saw you stop your giggles in fear. Rhaenyra adored you, often did she texted you a good morning and a wish for you to have the best day. To you, she was your other mother, and never did she let you call her Rhaenyra or Ms. Targaryen, nagging your ear off to be called mom.

“You know, as ancient as it sounds, it does look pretty in cursive,” your eyes shined with intrigue, Jacaerys knew already your small habits, the expressions you pulled whenever you switched moods. He knew that now you were about to tell him about art. He only leaned back on his chair, his arms crossed against his chest as he softly smiled, his full attention on you.

You grabbed your drawing pad and your bamboo brush; your small tube of black ink was uncapped as you excitedly showed him what you meant. He watched as you concentrated, your hair falling perfectly around your face, your eyes focused as the inner of your forehead creased and you frowned. He only watched you counting down the days for the perfect time to ask you the big question.

“Okay! Look!”

Jacaerys leaned over you, your hands touching sending your skin in goosebumps. You cleared your throat to show indifference. “Your name is beautiful,” you mentioned softly. Jacaerys locked eyes with you, his brown eyes so glassy that you saw your reflection through his. You gasped softly.

“You made it beautiful,’ he said, “Your writing is beautiful, are you learning that now?”

You were thankful he switched topics as you swore you almost puked from the overwhelming feelings that consumed you whole. “Yeah,” you cleared your throat once again, “Typography, though it’s in digital, is something about tracing different fonts and all that helps too and is effective in the real world.”

Jacaerys hummed, his long fingers tracing the ink on the paper, “Sounds cool.”

You smiled, “It’s very cool.”

You were finally done with finals, cheering softly into the softness of your pillow. Vermax jumped on you, his mouth nibbling on your hair, “Vermax,” you groaned when he pulled a little too hard, “You evil baby.”

A soft ‘roof,’ was heard before he flopped beside you to chew on his plushie Jacaerys had gotten him from Dragonstone.

You flopped on your stomach, your arms hugging the pillow closer to your face, your brain empty, enjoying the comfortable silence. Jacaerys was at his last final of the semester, he left for school after you did so you took the time to relax before going out later that night. Cregan and Alysanne along with Benjicot and a few other friends of Jacaerys invited you both to the bar to celebrate the end of the semester.

As you stared around the bedroom you noticed a shiny box hidden under the cabinet where you and Jacaerys stacked a collection of films and books. You raised an eyebrow, watching the box glimmer against the light of the room. “Huh.”

You stood up to approach the box you had never seen before. As you were about to open it, the phone rang making you jump in fright. “Seven fucking hells!”

Eyeing the box you answered the phone, “Hello?”

“Hi baby, sorry! Just a quick question before I head to the test hall. Mom invited us to the city for a family dinner and she asked if you were up for it. Joff has been whining her ear off how much he misses you,” Jacaerys spoke quickly and quietly, you knew he was outside the hall.

“Absolutely! Yeah, I’ll call her right now actually.”

“Okay, that’s all. I’ve gotta go, the professor is here, I’ll see you soon. I love you!”

You smiled, the hold on the phone tightened, “I love you so much more, good luck!”

The phone call was cut short, you prayed he did well, but you never doubted he would do terribly. Jacaerys was very much a nerd hidden behind the popularity of his name and the circle of friends he had. He loved his books more than anything, always eager to know more.

Your eyes went back to the box that tempted you to open, you clicked your tongue. Untying the ribbon, you lifted the hard lid off, your jaw dropping at the contents of the box. “What the -”

Inside the box held every piece of love you ever crafted for Jacaerys, every piece you made with a small sticky note with a date. Your eyes watered, he had kept it all. For two years, Jacaerys Velaryon kept every message you gave him, the small dragon you gifted him sat by his bedside with a picture of you and him. He claimed it was to keep you close whenever you went to work or class. The tears ran down your cheeks as you went over every piece, every painting, and sculpture, until you stopped at a note.

“Oh, my g-”

Jacaerys.

The piece of paper was old, the edges where it seemed to have been ripped off a book glared at you. The memories flooded upon you. You recalled how angry and sad you were when the paper you wrote his name in calligraphy disappeared from your drawing book. In your hands laid the same people you mourned over. On the bottom relied on a new message. A message that made you choke on the sob you released. One of full love and happiness.

February 8th, the day I began counting down the days I would ask her to be mine forever.

☆ jace nation taglist (open): @vividxpages @writtenapoiogy @smurfelle @number-0-iz @peri4stral @girlthatislost @agqrtz @thenotesapppoet ☆ natties angel list (open): @aemondvelaryon @fleurbies @yohanseyebrowmole

☆ slutcult/mooties: @mattnott @manhandlememando @bucksplum @housetargaryenloyalist @xxselenite @vee-mage @v3lary0ns @hxtd @eldrith @bryscorner @princessbellecerise

#𓇼 nattie's works #jacaerys velaryon #house of the dragon fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys valaryon x reader #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys x you #jacaerys x reader #— natties winter wonderland 🎄

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s-4pphics · 7 months ago

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A/N: me vs writing what i’m supposed to aka moth aka vampire possession aka anyway here’s post santa barbara angst don’t ask questions im not really sure LOL

“You’re back.”

Determined hands freeze in the dirt, the freshly watered daisies glistening under the beaming sun rays. Your soiled fingers halt all movement at the soft acknowledgment from behind. A sigh leaves your lips.

“… I am.”

An exhausted one, and it’s not from your strenuous labor in the garden. Your body refuses to turn, but holes burn in your spine, leaving behind lasered streaks of green.

“Can you look at me?” Ellie pleads gently. The softest you’ve heard her be in months.

What she doesn’t know is that you’ve been back. For a week actually, hiding out in other people’s homes throughout Jackson, assisting in places where Ellie’s least likely to go. The garden in particular; Pollen makes her sneeze.

Time is vital and interesting; Dina left her and Ellie’s farmhouse with her son when you fled Jackson. She sought you out, but you weren’t there. You spent most of your time alone, walking, running, killing what you had to. Searched for peace, internal and external. The sight of the waterfall was worth the months-long trip. Your home is different now. Eerily quiet. The kids you helped teached to read don't play outside or laugh as often anymore. You hardly see Tommy or Maria around. Jesse is dead. Joel is dead. Dina isolates with JJ. Hugs him like she’ll die if she lets go.

Ellie’s forever changed. The town’s forever changed, and you’ve finally accepted that it’s for the worse.

“Is listening not enough?”

Cordiality is beyond you. Spite is evident. Even the flowers can feel it.

You tried to be patient, to coddle, to mourn and aid and tend. Sacrifice your own wellbeing for the sake of hers. You tried, Dina tried, Tommy didn’t but he did at the same time. Oddly, destructively, but in his own way. You blame him and don’t. Hate him and don’t. He’s violently and permanently scorned, but so are you. So is Ellie. She says nothing from behind you. You rise with a pop in your knees and an upturned lip.

When you face Ellie, your knees wobble. Scarred: emotionally, physically, mentally. Permanently. Her eyes are more breakable than glass, the shattered hand that displays defeat hid shamefully behind her back. But her cheeks are fuller, no longer the hollow vacancies they were before she left. Maria was always on her back about finishing her meals.

Grief is complicated. Hurt. Anger. The flowers wilt. Listening isn’t enough, and neither is sacrifice.

Ellie’s nose always twitches when she thinks. Your heart gives a sporadic pulse, but not enough to revive the shell you're trapped in.

“I don’t want an apology from you.”

She shakes her head, “I know.”

“Then why are we talking?”

Another twitch of her nose. She searches for something. “I—“

But then she flinches away from you, a bent arm coming up to cover her nose and mouth when she sneezes. A painful jerk thrums through your chest, but still not enough.

“Bless you.”

One more sneeze, but softer. A bit squeaky. Remnant of when you first met her at 13 and she followed you out to the greenhouse to watch you water the orange trees.

“Thanks.”

You nod stiffly. When she doesn’t say anything, you move to leave. Your work is done and she knows you’re back; There’s no point in being alone with her.

Ellie doesn’t follow, but she does speak.

“I’m trying.”

You pause, one foot in front of the other. A doe learning how to walk for the first time.

“I’m trying to be normal. I’m trying to be okay but it’s not working.” Her voice trembles.

You weren’t expecting a confession. Normal. An interesting use of the word. No one feels that anymore.

“It probably won’t for a long time.” You state, just as quietly as she, “But if you stop trying, you’ll rot from the inside. If that’s what you want, then fine. But if not… That's all you can do now.”

“Will we ever be okay?”

‘We’ means many. ‘We’ means two. Your back’s to Ellie, but you can see her. Unmoving, but frantic. Her mind cranks at a million miles a minute. You feel her eyes on you. Too familiar.

You’re not sure how to answer, so you don’t. You take one last look at her before you walk away.

Flowers never look the same the next day.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams angst #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x you #ellie the last of us #ellie williams au #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪

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goldenempyrean · 3 months ago

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Hey there, I have a specific Nat request! Natasha and the reader both come down with a nasty case of the flu but are determined to join the rest of the team on a mission. However, Tony, known for his germaphobia, firmly refuses and quarantines them in their rooms for their own good. Left alone in the compound, Natasha and the reader care for each other and grow closer as they bond over their shared illness. When the team returns, they find Natasha and the reader fast asleep together on the sofa, having found comfort in each other's company during their time of need.

Stuck With Me

〚 Notes - I feel like I haven't written Nat in ages, I was meant to post this ages but never finished! Hopefully you enjoy :D 〛

〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - You and Nat both get sick and can't go on a mission with the team. At least you can keep each other company 〛

〚 Wordcount - 2300 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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It wasn’t supposed to go like this. The team was buzzing with excitement as they prepared for the upcoming mission, the air thick with anticipation and purpose. Everyone was in high spirits, except for yourself and Natasha, who were huddled together in the corner of the briefing room, looking utterly miserable.

A couple of days ago, the whole of the Avengers had been made to be some PR, and as such you and the rest of the team had spent the day interacting with the public. Everything had seemed fine at the time. Oh how that’d change.

That morning, you had blinked slowly as you woke up and instantly regretted it. The first thing you registered was pressure, deep throbbing pressure nestled behind your sinuses snd temples. You rubbed your eyes and groaned quietly. This couldn’t be good.

Beside you, Natasha stirred, you could hear her groan too followed by a deep, rough cough as she pushed herself to sit upright. She cleared her throat and looked down to you, her expression noticeably softening when she took in your flushed features.

“You too?” She asked quietly, you could tell from her voice she wasn’t feeling well. Her tone was quieter, more reserved. Not to mention the thick congestion which blurred her words.

You shivered and shuffled up to her, through the thin fabric of her shirt it was hard to miss how warm she felt and you let your head rest against her, “You’re warm.” You mumbled, pushing the back of your sleeve against your nose as you felt it run a little.

"I think we caught something," Nat grumbled, her voice coming out raspy and sore.

"No kidding," You mumbled hoarsely in agreement, “But from where?”

She thought for a moment, eyes narrowing. "PR day. All those handshakes, the photos... people everywhere." She scrunched up her nose before she stifled a sneeze against the back of her hand,  "Did you get your flu jab?” She sniffled, the question popping into her mind. She’d been meaning to get hers but life was just busy and she hadn’t gotten round to it yet.

Your eyes widened and you gave her a knowing look, “Oh shit.”

“Oh shit indeed.”

If only this hadn’t happened today. Today, yourself, Nat and the rest of the avengers were meant to be setting off on a mission to Wakanda to assist in the ongoing vibranium crisis. It was to be an all hands on deck affair, every last pair of hands needed.

So instead of curling in bed where you should’ve been, the two of you decided it would be better to drag yourselves down to the meeting room and sit through debriefing like absolutely nothing was wrong.

You honestly don’t know how you’d thought that you’d somehow get away unnoticed. It was painfully obvious something was wrong. Natasha was as white as a ghost and couldn’t go more than a few minutes before giving into a liquid sniffle, all just to keep her nose from running. Just beside her, you were shivering, visibly and helplessly, all while you couldn’t stop beads of sweat from forming on your forehead. 

“Oh no, absolutely not.” Tony had almost yelped when he entered the room and caught sight of the pair of you, “These two are absolutely not coming anywhere near this mission.”

You groaned inwardly. Of course, Tony would be the first to notice. He had an uncanny ability to pick up on things he didn’t like - germs being at the top of that list.

Natasha didn’t haste to shoot him a glare, usually in any other circumstance this would’ve been enough to make him back off but the effect was ruined when her breath hitched and she immediately curled into her hoodie with a series of damp sneezes.

Tony visibly flinched, his hand already reaching for a sanitiser bottle he seemed to have materialized out of thin air. He pointed toward the door. "Out. You two are quarantined," He decided firmly in a tone that read there was no room for argument. "There's no way I'm letting you infect the rest of us, especially me.”

Steve and the others had arrived by this point and were murmuring agreement. Somewhere in between Steve trying to rationalise with an ever, stubborn Natasha and Tony shrieking about infection, Bruce had ran down to medical and grabbed a first aid kit.

When he returned, he kneeled down and pulled out a thermometer from the box. “Alright, let’s see what we’re dealing with here.” He reached forward to take her temperature but she held a hand out to stop him from getting closer.

“Wait.. I need to-“ Her eyes fluttered shut as she quickly turned to the side, burying her face into the crook of her elbow just as a series of harsh sneezes burst out of her, “Hh'kshhh! Hih'tshh! Heh’ktsch!"

“Bless you.” You murmured softly. You tried to close your eyes to get some relief from the throbbing in your temples but you jumped a little at the feeling of a thermometer being rolled over your forehead. You had forgotten that Stark had insisted on buying the fancy kind.

The device beeped its verdict and Bruce sighed, shaking his head in disapproval as he stood back up, “Nat 38.2, Y/N 38.5. In no way shape or form are either of you up for this. You’re both at serious risk of dehydration. You need to rest.” 

“Quarantine. Both of you.” Tony repeated though he’d noticeably taken a few large strides backwards. He pointed towards the door wrinkling his nose in disgust before looking up at the ceiling, “FRIDAY, disinfect the room after they leave. Use the strong stuff.” He exaggerated a shudder as Nat fell into a particularly rough coughing fit.

“Scratch that, disinfect everything they’ve touched. I want this contained.”

The system announced a “Yes, sir.” and you couldn’t help but groan in defeat. There was no way the two of you would be able to get out of the now and you shivered once more as you dragged yourself up out of the chair you’d being huddled in, pulling up Natasha to stand up next to you.

Natasha looked like she wanted to argue, but the effort of coughing left her too exhausted to put up much of a fight. Her posture sagged slightly as she stood, clearly feeling every bit as lousy as you did. You gently nudged her, signaling it was time to go, and she gave a reluctant nod. Neither of you were thrilled with the idea of sitting out on such an important mission, but it was becoming increasingly clear there was no way around it.

You caught Nat by the arm gently as she wobbled on her feet. Before the pair of you left, she shot Tony one more withering glare, though it had less of its usual sting. She stifled another sneeze into her elbow, her breath shaking as she sniffled miserably. Tony, ever the kind, sympathetic gentleman of course, took another step back, waving his hand in the air like he could physically push the germs away from himself

“What are we meant to do now.” You mumbled after you’d left the room. When the others left you’d have the whole compound to yourself, usually in any other scenario the two of you would make good use of the alone time but there was no way either of you for feeling up for that.

"I don't know," Natasha rasped, her voice was sounding a little worse from coughing, "Sleep, I guess." She sniffed again, her nose still red from the constant sneezing and rubbing. “Or we could stage a jailbreak. Sneak onto a jet before they leave.”

You chuckled quietly then coughed and chuckled again, “Sorry love but if you think we’re gonna be able to sneak past them while coughing up a lung then you’re more feverish than we thought.” You reached out to rub her back when she started coughing again, “Besides I don’t think you’re up to flying, do you?”

“Maybe not.” She rasped after catching her breath. The pair of you were just about to turn to make your way to your bedroom when you had a different idea.

“How about we grab some blankets and cuddle up in one of the living rooms, grab some supplies and camp in there? That way we can watch some movies or something if you’re feeling up to it.”

Natasha gave you a tired but grateful smile, her green eyes heavy with fatigue. "That... doesn't sound half bad," she admitted in a hoarse whisper, sniffling again as she rubbed at her nose with the back of her hand. "But if we're doing this I wanna rewatch the Star Wars movies.”

You shot her a knowing grin, “My, my. Natasha Romanoff, the great Black Widow is a secret nerd. Who would’ve guessed?” That earned you a small nudge in reply and on the way, the two of you headed to a storage closet to grab 

as many blankets as you could carry without falling over whilst Nat grabbed a large box of tissues and headed off to get some medicine.

You’d just settled down on the sofa of the common room when Nat shuffled in holding a bundle of things in her arms. Tissues, cough medicine, a thermometer, two hot water bottles and your matching water bottles. 

Originally, you had seen them being sold in a little shop whilst you were out one day. A clear, hard plastic bottle but with a little cartoon of the Black Widow on it. You’d bought it instantly and it had become the main bottle you’d use. 

Of course Natasha had blushed with embarrassment the first time she’d seen it but she couldn’t deny the action was adorable. So the next time she went out, she had gone out of her way to buy a matching bottle. This time one with a little cartoon of you in your fighting outfit.

She set the supplies down on the coffee table in front of you before flopping down on the sofa next to you, immediately she regretted letting go of her hot water bottle and grabbed it, cradling it for a moment as she got warm before tucking it under her hoodie.

“You need anything else?” She shook her head and you cleared your throat before reaching to pick up the remote to start the first movie before handing it to her as you remembered that you had no idea which order the movies went in.

The corner of her mouth quirked a little as a smile played on her lips, “Episode IV, no prequels first.” She began to explain why it was so important even though it went right over your head anyway, “We watch in release order, we’re not heathens.”

You nodded along, pretending to understand the logic of watching the Star Wars movies in release order, though to be honest, most of the reasoning had gone straight over your foggy, headache-riddled brain. She rambled on for a little, and you occasionally nodded to signify you were still listening until she eventually pressed play, and the familiar fanfare and iconic text crawl started to roll up the screen.

For a moment, you both just sat there, quietly watching, the only sounds in the room the hum of the TV and the occasional sniffle from Nat. Her head slowly started to lean onto your shoulder, and without even thinking, you shifted slightly to let her rest more comfortably. The warmth from her hot water bottle radiated through her hoodie and into your side, a comforting presence.

"You okay?" You murmured softly, glancing down at her. She looked exhausted, her eyes half-lidded as they flickered between the screen and you.

"Mm-hmm," She mumbled, though her voice was so thick with congestion it came out as more of a hum. She snuggled in closer, her hand absentmindedly toying with the sleeve of your shirt. "This is perfect," She whispered hoarsely, her body sagging into yours with that telltale heaviness of someone about to drift off. She was perfectly still for a few minutes until you felt her chest rising suddenly as she sat up quickly and rubbed at her nose, “F-fuck I-” She tried to warn, luckily you knew what she needed but you still barely had time to pass her the tissues before she set off into a flurry of sneezes.

“Bless you,” You replied softly after each one, watching as she blew her nose and gave you an apologetic look afterwards which made you respond with a gentle kiss to her forehead, “You can’t help it love, don’t worry.”

The rest of the week was spent the same way, the two of you cuddled up on the sofa together. You’d hold her close when she was shivering and she’d periodically swap out a cloth to place on your forehead. Napping had become the biggest part of the day, the two of you sleeping with arms wrapped around each other. It had been during one of these naps when the team had finally arrived home. Clint had come clambering in, looking to kick back and watch some trashy TV after days of concentration but what he was met with instead was a huddle of blankets and two sniffly girlfriends tucked up in each other's arms.

He couldn’t resist snapping a quick photo, one which he totally wouldn’t use for blackmail in the future. He smiled softly as he saw how relaxed the both of you looked and quietly tiptoed out of the room, closing the door softly and writing a note not to enter. There was no point waking the pair of you up, not when you both looked so peaceful. He’d simply wait to tease the pair of you when you were feeling better.

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#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff comfort #natasha romanoff fluff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #mcu #marvel #blackwidow #natasha romanoff imagine #sickfic #natasha romanoff sickfic #caretaking

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bananababblegigglemuffin · 1 month ago

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Claws, Diapers, and Daddy Duty

Logan’s gruff voice boomed from the nursery. “Darlin’, is it supposed to smell this bad?!”

I chuckled from the kitchen, setting down the baby bottle I’d been warming. “Welcome to parenthood, Wolverine!”

Let’s back up a bit. Being married to Logan wasn’t exactly what I’d call conventional. For one, his idea of “domestic bliss” involved flannel shirts, beer, and the occasional uninvited guest in the form of a random mutant needing help. But when we decided to adopt a baby—because Logan swore he wanted to give someone the stability he never had—life took a turn I never expected.

Daddy Logan: The Adjustment Period

From the moment we brought little Ellie home, I saw Logan try harder than he’d ever tried in his life. I mean, this is a man who’s fought Sentinels and survived wars, but one tiny infant had him more rattled than Magneto ever did.

The first night was… interesting. Logan insisted on taking the first shift, grumbling something about how he “never sleeps anyway.” I woke up to find him sitting in the rocking chair, holding Ellie, his claws accidentally out because he was too tense.

“Logan,” I whispered, trying not to laugh, “she’s not gonna hurt you.”

“She’s tiny,” he muttered, staring down at her with an expression I can only describe as pure terror. “What if I drop her? Or—or sneeze? Do babies survive sneezes?”

I kissed his forehead. “Relax, tough guy. She’s sturdier than you think. And you, believe it or not, are softer than you look.”

Diapers and Danger

Day three was when Logan truly met his match: diaper duty.

“Alright, bub,” he said, rolling up his sleeves like he was about to take down Sabretooth. “How hard can it be?”

Turns out, very.

I peeked into the nursery to find Logan standing there, holding Ellie at arm’s length, his nose wrinkled like he’d just walked through a sulfur pit.

“She pooped up her back,” he said, looking at me like I was supposed to explain how this was biologically possible.

“You’re the one with the healing factor, Logan. You’ll live,” I teased, tossing him the wipes.

It took him twenty minutes, two shredded diapers, and one very judgmental look from Ellie before he finally got the job done.

Superheroes Don’t Do Nap Time

Logan was not a fan of nap time—mostly because Ellie refused to go down without a fight. And by fight, I mean she screamed like a tiny banshee every time we put her in the crib.

One afternoon, I came home to find Logan sprawled on the couch, shirtless, with Ellie snoozing on his chest. His claws had popped out and were stuck in the arm of the couch, presumably because he’d been startled by her screaming earlier.

“You good there?” I asked, trying not to laugh.

“Don’t say a word,” he grumbled, though the corners of his mouth twitched. “She’s finally asleep.”

I couldn’t resist snapping a photo. “Superdad, saving the day one nap at a time.”

The Soft Side of Logan

For all his grumbling and growling, Logan had a way of melting whenever Ellie giggled. One evening, I found him sitting on the floor of the living room, holding one of Ellie’s stuffed bears and making it “fight” her other toys.

“Take that, bub!” he growled in his Wolverine voice, making Ellie squeal with laughter.

“You’re ridiculous,” I said, leaning in the doorway.

He looked up at me, a sheepish grin on his face. “Yeah, well… she likes it.”

A New Kind of Hero

One night, after Ellie had finally gone to sleep, I found Logan standing over her crib, his arms crossed.

“You okay?” I asked, stepping beside him.

He nodded but didn’t take his eyes off her. “Just… didn’t think I’d ever get this.”

I slipped my arm around his waist. “Get what?”

“This,” he said, his voice soft. “A family. Someone to protect who’s not a mission or a fight. Just… her.”

Tears stung my eyes as I rested my head against his shoulder. “You’re doing great, Logan. She’s lucky to have you.”

He snorted. “Lucky? Kid’s stuck with a grumpy old man with anger issues.”

“She’s stuck with someone who’d claw through hell for her,” I corrected, squeezing his hand.

He looked down at me, his smirk softening into something tender. “Yeah… guess she is.”

And that’s how I knew Logan wasn’t just a dad—he was her dad. The kind of dad who’d grumble about diapers but stay up all night to rock her back to sleep. The kind of dad who’d teach her to fight but cry when she scraped her knee. The kind of dad who’d make you laugh, cry, and want to throttle him all at the same time.

Logan wasn’t perfect. But to Ellie—and to me—he was everything.

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woso-dreamzzz · 11 months ago

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Grouchy

Katrina Gorry x Baby!Reader

Summary: You're not very happy

With Clara taking Harper to kindie, it meant that Katrina could focus on the sobbing baby that refused to settle.

You'd woken up in a foul mood with a sniffly red nose and a persistent cough that had you throwing up so much phlegm that even Harper knew something was wrong with you.

"Okay," Katrina says softly as she gently pats your back to help you clear your throat," How about a bath, huh? Would a bath be good, bubs?"

You screech in answer and try to push her away with your little uncoordinated limbs. You whine loudly when she takes you out of your onesie and slips into the bath behind you.

You usually take your baths with Harper so having Mummy sitting in the bath with you is different and strange. You screech even louder when lukewarm water is gently poured over your body in an attempt to cool you down.

You're overheated and your head is stuffed full of cotton. You try to wiggle away but Mummy's got a firm grip on you.

"You're a little grouch today, huh, bubs?" Katrina says softly when you out a particularly loud cry followed by kicking your little legs in a chance to escape. "What is it? Are you missing Harps? You know she's got kindie now."

You huff a little bit when you don't get free and opt to go limp instead. That relaxes Mummy a bit, you think, because she finally gets up out of the bath and wraps you in one of the towels nearby.

She holds you up at a distance from her as you begin coughing again, shaking her head softly. "Harps gave you a cough, huh?" She coos as she heads back into the living room," I told your Ma that kindie was a bad idea. Look at you, all sick and grouchy."

You huff again after another round of coughs.

"How about we get you a bottle, bubs? Nice, warm bottle of milk."

That's usually enough to stop whatever icky feelings you've got but you just refuse to take it today, turning your head away and forcing the nip out of your mouth whenever Katrina puts it in.

Katrina laughs slightly at your stubbornness and puts the bottle aside. You stare at her with unblinking eyes. You're still visibly sick with your cheeks burning red, bags under your eyes and the way you're taking big deep breaths through your open mouth instead of your nose.

She wipes the snot away and you scrunch your whole face up like you're insulted that she's even touching you.

"Ooh," Katrina coos softly, more than a little endeared at the little faces you're making," You're very grouchy today, bubs. Look at this little pout." She thumbs your bottom lip and you open your mouth.

She knows that this is her chance and she pops the bottle back into your mouth. Your eyebrows scrunch up at being tricked but you don't try to spit it out again while still making sure Mama knows you're angry at her as you stare unblinking up at her.

Katrina just smiles at you. Your little scrunch is just like Harper's and your even tinier hands are scrunched up like you're about to start swinging.

You break away from the bottle to drag in breath and sneeze.

"Oh! That's a big sneeze!"

You sniffle as Mama wipes your nose again and tries to give you the bottle. You refuse again and stick your tongue out and Mama laughs at you.

She's not yet gotten you dressed yet, just put you in your nappy, so you do tummy time like that.

You're not particularly enjoying it though and you make sure your annoyance is known again by letting out your signature screech.

Katrina rolls her eyes but still keeps her smile. You must be feeling pretty bad because you usually love tummy time but you keep smacking your hands on the ground and crying.

"Okay," Mama says as she picks you right back up. You don't settle quickly or easily but you're certainly calmer now that you're back in her arms rather than on your tummy time mat. "What are we going to do, bubs? You're a little funny today."

You grunt and lean against Mama's collarbone.

Katrina can feel the fever still racing through you but it's less hot than earlier. She knew that this sudden wave of sickness came from Harper's first week of kindie when she came home with the sniffles.

It hit you particularly hard because of how much younger you were than Harper and how much she loved you. Every time she went away, she came straight back home with cuddles for you and so many kisses that Katrina and Clara both had to drag her away at times to not overwhelm you.

"Are you just going to stay here? All nice and snuggly, huh?"

You grunt again but don't really do anything else and Mama has to reach down to grab a blanket and wrap it around you. She wipes your runny nose again and goes back into her bedroom.

Mama lies down in her bed and positions you so you're horizontal again. The change makes your eyes droop closed instantly, like suddenly your limbs are all weak and tired.

"That's a good girl, bubs," Mummy says, her voice low and soft as she runs her nails up and down your back softly," I think a little nap is all you need, huh? A nice nap to get this bug out of your system."

A small whine comes out of your mouth when she stops as she leans over to flick on the white noise machine. Her nails resume their gentle patterns though when she notices that you're fighting sleep again.

You drop off soon after, a combination of the soft hum of the machine, Katrina's gentle hands on your back and your general sickness.

She smiles softly at you, gently readjusting you so she can snap a picture to send to Clara. It's not often that she gets private time with you.

Harper's been enamoured with you the moment you were born, stuck to your side like a little shadow while Clara held you like you were surgically attached.

It was nice, sometimes, to just have you all to herself.

Even if you were a little grouchy.

#woso x reader #katrina gorry x reader #katrina gorry #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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anisespice · 1 year ago

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“ the fuck-it list ” || hq! pt. 3

one || two || four

synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list.

pairing: various x gn!reader [ osamu, sakusa ]

warnings: cursing, suggestive language, MDI. literally can’t be bothered to think of anything else, but feel free to let me know lol

notes: sooo i lied <333 i’ve decided to give suna his own chapter later on (srry suna lovers !!!!) i just wasn’t satisfied with how his was turning out, and it was the only roadblock delaying my progress soooo figured we’d just put a pin in his for now lol especially for those who were FROTHING for these two in particular (this for y'all ✨) hope you enjoy :)))

notes ii: nobody LOOK AT ME, this took me an embarrassingly long time lol. i’m not familiar with them, personality-wise, but i tried ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

notes iii: this one’s got atsumu written all over it LMAOOO

tagged: @daedaep69 , @ahahadumbo , @viktoryn , @mdsb , @ourgoddessathena , @ushygushybaby , @hyori2 , @lumpywolf , @fantasycantasy

“Aht-CHOO!”

The bowl of popcorn nearly flew out your lap when you shrieked bloody-murder, body in fight or flight from the abrupt sound happening moments before a jumpscare in the movie you were watching. Head on a swivel, you soon realized the culprit wasn’t a psycho-killer in a ghost mask, but your darling OSAMU with his lawnmower of a sneeze coming through your front door.

You exhaled, relieved, but scared shitless. After pausing the movie, you glared down the hall leading to the door. “Seriously? You had to do that with your entire chest?”

Osamu sniffled, then muttered. “…Y’supposed to say bless ya before scoldin’ at your sweet and thoughtful boyfriend, y’know…”

“Aw, bless you, my love. And, fuck you.”

The brunette snorted, no doubt rolling his eyes as he toed off his shoes. Coming down the hall to soon reveal his handsome face, illuminated only by the bright tv screen, Osamu held up a large plastic bag filled with something greasy and delicious as the smell traveled up your nose. He grinned smugly at you intently eyeing the bag. “Fuck me, huh?”

You immediately doubled down, waving your hands. “Waitwaitwait I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it as in…fuck you’RE so sweet and thoughtful, and I love you so much..?”

Osamu hummed, taking off his ball cap to place it on your head. Shaking it a little by the brim, he winked. “Nice save, darlin’.”

He made way for your inspace kitchen to get dinner assorted with you trailing not too far behind. Your eyes eagerly ate up the widespread of all your favorites displayed on the countertop, practically hanging off his back since there was barely any room for the both of you in the tiny space. Popcorn long forgotten, your stomach sang a symphony for some real food, Osamu saving you the trouble of eating instant noodles for dinner yet again.

And without you even having to ask him for any of it, too.

Your gaze eventually locked onto the former volleyball player, eyeing him up with a newfound hunger that he was quick to pick up on while he popped a piece of fried chicken in his mouth. Looking down at you with a raised brow he patiently waited for you to voice your thoughts, a boyish grin growing on his face as he chewed.

You blinked. He blinked back, then chuckled lightly. “We communicatin’ telepathically, or somethin’?”

“If we were, you’d know I wanna suck you dry right now.”

Osamu.exe—E R R O R.

Man straight up inhaled the little that was still in his mouth, hurling him into a fit of hacks as he turned away from the food to fight for his life at your sink. Coughing up what he could into the drain with you behind him hitting his back for support, you couldn’t stop the evil, little laugh from slipping out seeing this as a form of karma for the scare earlier. Osamu fixed you with a weak glare once he calmed down, reaching over to pinch your cheek. “A warnin’ next time, would’ya?…”

You winced, but mirth still swam in your eyes. “Your only warning would’ve been your pants around your ankles-”

“Oi, quit that.” He gently grabbed your jaw to squish up your mouth, though it didn’t repress the cheeky grin you wore. The brunette did his best to remain unfazed, but the flush across his face was evident, your words clearly effecting him. “…Jeez, at least ask me how m’day was before ya slut me out. Soundin’ like all them thirsty-ass comments floodin’ my socials all damn day.”

Osamu let go of your face to grab plates from your cabinet, leaving you standing there, dumbfounded. Pursing your lips, you crossed your arms with a raised brow. “‘m sorry…the what flooding your socials?”

He busied himself with fixing your plate, nonchalantly recalling the very incident that occurred the other day, “That dumb fuck-list or whatever, mixed up me ‘nd ‘tsumu in their little post. Had his ugly mug front ‘nd center, but had my name attached to this long-winded thread ‘bout me basically being better in the sack than him. Shit’s wild.”

“The fuck-what now?” Osamu handed over a healthy plate full of food, you absentmindedly took it but made no move to eat. He started fixing his own, acting as if he didn’t just delay your appetite with this information. “Y—…you’re joking right? There’s no way something like that exists.”

“Oh, t’s very much real. Read it with my own eyes,” he licked the spoon he used to spread sauce across his chicken. “What, ya sayin’ ya haven’t heard of it? Seriously?”

“You know I don’t care enough to keep up with the trends that go on around here. And with good reason, clearly. What’s even the purpose?”

He shrugged. “Beats me. But it’s got ‘tsumu givin’ me the silent treatment, so maybe it’s not that bad after all.”

“Pfft. He’s pissy because some random on the internet said you’re the better lay? How would they know?? You’re both happily taken, and I wish a bitch would.” You smugly declared, bringing your food to the living room.

Osamu grinned at your possessive tone, trailing behind you holding plate and soda cans in either hand. “Damn straight. But, wasn’t just some random, babe. We’re talkin’ millions.”

Had you not already gotten situated on the couch, you would’ve surely spilled food all over yourself. Jaw nearly to the floor, you blinked up at him, bewildered. “Nuh uh.”

“Yuh huh.”

“Holy shit.”

Osamu took his usual spot next to you, large frame nearly taking up most of the couch. With bellies empty, knee knocking against knee, and elbow nudging elbow, the brunette hummed contently as he soaked in his favorite atmosphere—Your voice, your warmth, you. Though too busy monologuing about the absurdity of such a thing going viral to notice his fond gaze, Osamu silently listened to every word as he began eating from his plate. Although, all that mushiness is soon pushed to the back of his mind when the next sentence fell from your lips. After you eventually found said post to see it for yourself, needless to say you had some…hot takes.

“How could someone write this and not cringe? I mean, I love you ‘samu, but a Dom? If only they knew how nervous you were our first time, it was so adorable.” You giggled, tossing some chicken into your mouth. “You are not that guy.”

Osamu’s chewing paused. Your laughter eventually died down.

You didn’t feel his stare earlier…but you were definitely feeling it now, Mr. Krabs. Suddenly, the same dread you got when anticipating a jumpscare resurfaced. A sinking pit in your stomach like a rabbit stumbling upon a fox—Cliché aside, you fucked up. And you knew it in your bones the second your eyes locked with his, void of fondness and full of hunger despite his plate being half-eaten.

He swallowed the bit in his mouth, then spoke. “Sure ‘bout that?”

You mouth moved, floundered even, but nothing would come out. And Osamu didn’t rush you either, if anything he gladly watched you struggle while he continued munching away. “I—..I-I mean..I was just saying. Because…y’know, you never…we never really-”

“Mm. Jus’ cause we usually take things slow doesn’t mean you can’t get a hole fucked into your mattress, sweetheart. Keep tryin’ ya luck, ‘nd ya just might. Finish eatin’ first, though. Ya gonna need your energy.”

SAKUSA couldn’t give a flying fuck about the list. He would literally walk away from someone mid-conversation if said topic got brought up. And don’t think that you’re the exception, either—Man parked and got out of his OWN CAR during the drive back to his place, refusing to get back in until you dropped the subject entirely.

“Omi-”

“No.”

“C’monnnn.”

“No.”

You giggled, “I won’t talk about it anymore, I promise.”

He had his back to you as you spoke through the rolled down, driver’s side window, trying to ‘pspspsps’ him back into the car like a stubborn cat. Sakusa knew he was being ridiculous, but he just couldn’t stomach anymore nonsense. Plus, there’s a bit of suspicion on his end whenever it came to talking about the accursed list—Sakusa saw it as a bad omen.

Anyone who talked about it within his circle, be it teammates or personal friends, miraculously found themselves posted up the following day like fresh meat on the market. Once he caught wind that not even taken people were spared from being thirsted over, his disdain merely amplified, as did his precaution.

“Baby, I’ll burn some sage back at your apartment to scare away the bad energy from my filthy words. Would that make you feel better?”

Sakusa huffed, looking over his shoulder to give you a good ole stank face—One you barely paid any mind to as you batted your lashes at him. He glitched. Had it not been for the mask he was wearing, you’d see the harsh flush that spread across his face. Too bad his neck was exposed, giving him away as you grinned knowingly. But, you weren’t about to distract him from the issue at hand, you temptress.

“Don’t patronize me. Besides, you didn’t say it at my apartment, you said it in the car. Would completely defeat the purpose.”

You blinked.

There was no stopping the laughing fit you fell into when his words eventually processed, borderline cackling. “I-I’ll sage the car then, how ‘bout that?”

The ravenette squinted, marching up to the car to stick his head in before pulling his mask down so you could see his heavy frown through your tearful hysterics.

“You’re laughing. You’ve doomed me to becoming targeted by perverts, and you’re laughing.”

“‘yoomi, PLEASE.” You wheezed, waving a hand at him for mercy. With a couple stuttered intakes of air, you did your best to pull it together. “Don’t you think…you’re being a little paranoid?”

Amusement colored your features when you made eye contact with the outside hitter. Sakusa rolled his, tugging his mask back on before re-entering the car. “We’ll see how funny you find it when we can’t be seen together in public anymore.”

“And why not?” You raised a brow, still giggly.

Sakusa buckled in, taking the car out of park. “Because. When I do get posted, I won’t be leaving the safety of my room until that shit gets banned.”

“Oh my god, honey, I promise. You’re worrying over nothing. If you were gonna be on the list, don’t you think you would’ve by now? I mean, c’mon, even Hinata got on it before you. Majority of your teammates did!”

“That’s exactly my point. I’m the only one left.”

The two of you continued a playful back and forth pretty much the whole drive, more so you teasing him than anything else. After a while, having had your fun, you gave it a rest much to Sakusa’s relief. “Can still burn some sage, if you want-” “You’re not funny.”

Your evening continued on as normal, him taking a shower while you busied yourself by looking for a show the two of you could binge. Although, even after the discussion from earlier had been dropped, your boyfriend’s words still echoed in the back of your mind like a mantra. ‘I’m the only one left.’

As much as you’d hate to admit, though never to his face, your over-suspicious companion had a point. Without the safety net of his more extroverted teammates being in the spotlight of rabid fans, what’s delaying the swarm of unsolicited desires now? Even with his sourtude, Sakusa was an attractive individual—The dark curls that frame his face perfectly, his piercing pools of obsidian that shred through you like paper, the beauty marks above his brow, his THIGHS. And those were just surface-level things.

Being one of the privileged few who’ve seen all layers of Sakusa, you couldn’t blame them for wanting to explore deeper into who he was beyond that cold exterior…in more ways than one. Who better to fill those burning questions than some horny randos with too much time on their hands?

But, he’s made it this far without issue, what’s there to worry about now?—*Bzzzzt*

You jolt slightly, the harsh vibration coming from the sofa table breaking you out of your thoughts. With a short glance at your phone, the lit screen revealed an incoming call from Sakusa’s cousin, Komori. You exhale a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, reaching over to grab the device and answer it. However, as your thumb hovered over the green button, a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder…why would he be calling you?

You shook your head, answering the call before your mind could wander. He probably just wanted to catch up, make small talk. A smile graced your face as you happily greeted him, “Mori! Hi, what can I do ya for-?”

“Has he seen it?? Am I too late??”

You froze, blinking widely in stunned confusion. Your silence must have been loud enough for the man to grow more anxious, calling out your name to regain your attention. “Uh…has who seen what?”

Komori exhaled, in what you could only assume was relief. “Thank God…you sound blissfully unaware. That means there’s still time. You’re at his place, right?”

You blinked, eyes looking around as if he could see you.

“Kiyoomi’s? Yeah, I am. He’s in the shower at the moment if you were trying to reach him. Is everything okay?”

Now it was him who turned silent. You waited with bated breath, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt as you wracked your brain for every worst case scenario…but a small part of you already had an idea.

“It’s the complete opposite, I’m afraid.”

‘Kiyoomi Sakusa. 6’2ft of ?????. An enigma. We had to take our time this one. This tall, personification of a hand sanitizer bottle may appear to be disgusted and disinterested, but once you get past those disinfectant defenses of his…Lady in the streets, but a freak in the bed. Why else would he keep so clean all the time? It’s ‘cause he’s hiding an absolute FILTHY ANIMAL behind his mask (literally and figuratively) you cannot convince me otherwise. Definitely a Hard Dom, would degrade you for making a mess all over him even though he’s the one to blame; THRIVES when you get messy for him tho. Firm believer that he’d spit in your mouth, both as punishment and a reward. He won’t make much noise, you’ll think he’s doing taxes while deep in your guts, but just watch his face; homie is EXPRESSIVE. Aftercare could go either way, but he’d probably focus more on getting the sheets changed than cleaning you up. 7/10.’

You clenched the phone in disbelief, eyes watering due to the sexual word-vomit burning them the more you read on. It didn’t even take you long to find the dreaded post you were convinced would never manifest, refreshing the page multiple times just to confirm its existence. “Shit. I really did doom him to being targeted by perverts…”

“Huh??” Komori voiced. You merely brushed it off.

“Nothing,” you sighed. Taking the conversation out on the balcony in case Sakusa overheard, you had Komori on speaker as you attempted to do damage control. “Do the others know about this? Oh God, does Atsumu?? Knowing him, he’d surely jump at the chance to tease Omi with something like this.”

“Dunno. Just found out myself, and you were the first person I thought to call.”

You looked over your shoulder, peeking inside to see if the outside hitter was roaming around. There didn’t appear to be any movement, but there’s no doubt he finished showering by now.

Exhaling, you began sifting through your contacts. “We need to do whatever it takes to make sure he never finds out about the post. I’ll text everyone I know to help flag it down, but I’m not sure how long it’ll take before-”

“Who’re you talking to?”

Startled, phone nearly tossed off the balcony, you turned toward the sudden appearance of your freshly washed boyfriend, towel around his neck and adorned in lounge wear. Komori held his breath, as if he also were caught in the act even though he could easily escape with a mere press of a button. “Um…your cousin.”

“Okay, but…why’d you come out here? You wouldn’t have disturbed me if you took the call inside.” Sakusa raised a brow at your stiff posture, perplexed but concerned. “Something the matter?”

“No!” You winced at your own volume. His eyes widened slightly, making you nervously chuckle. Clearing your throat, you attempted to play it cool. “No, uh…just wanted to get some air while catching up with Komori, that’s all. W-why d’you ask?”

Sakusa squinted at you. “You’re jumpy.”

“J-Jumpy? Me? Uh.. that’s because…” Searching your brain for an excuse, luckily Komori had your back with his quick thinking.

“B-Because! We’re talking about the list! And t-they figured you wouldn’t wanna hear us, so-” SLAM!

Before he could even get the rest of the explanation out, Sakusa had already closed the sliding door. You and Komori shared a sigh of relief. You watched Sakusa’s back retreat into the living room as he sat on the couch, flickering around for something to put on to pass the time.

Just as suspected…still paranoid.

“That was close…”

“Super close. Think he bought it?”

You groaned, hesitant to take your eyes off him. “Won’t matter if he decides to check his phone at some point…”

It didn’t appear to be anywhere in sight, hopefully charging in another room. But, there was no point in wasting time worrying about that. You had some flagging to do. And as long as he had no reason to look at it, you’d be fine.

Sakusa, now bored with you occupied by something else, couldn’t help but to watch you longingly from the couch. You were speaking so animatedly, using your free hand to gesture, pacing back and forth. He frowned—How can that stupid list be more important than snuggling up with him? Yet another reason to hate it.

Exhaling through his nose he leaned back on the sofa, remote in hand as he looked for something to help pass the time. However, before he could get very far in his search, his phone rings.

Confused, he reached into his pocket. Instantly, his mood went from neutral to shriveled when he read the caller ID—Miya.

He had half a mind to ignore it, but knowing Atsumu he’d probably just keep calling until the inevitable happened with him turning up on his doorstep. Sakusa gave an annoyed huff, reluctantly answering the phone.

“Better have a good reason to be calling me this late, idiot.”

“Oh ho ho. Believe me, Omi-Omi. You’ll wanna see this.”

Back on the balcony, after the sixth time flagging the post for misinformation and harassment, you suddenly felt a shift in the atmosphere that wasn’t there moments before. Halting your frantic thumbs, you slowly looked up from the screen as a cold chill ran up your spine; something didn’t feel right in the force.

You weren’t sure what made you turn back to look inside the room, but the moment you did…it was like the world had gone into slow motion—Komori’s voice faded into the background as he called out your name, drowned out by the sound of your heart pounding through your ribs at the sight of Sakusa on his phone, face contorted into what could only be described as pure humiliation as he stared into the endless abyss while on his knees.

Probably should’ve burned that sage when you had the chance.

#🍁wasabi #‼️PT. 3‼️#*posts it and runs*#hq #hq scenarios #hq smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smut #hq osamu #hq sakusa #the fuck-it list

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spicycinnabun · 10 months ago

Text

pt. 1 2 3 4 6 7 💐

Eddie turned around, finding none other than the flower nazi. His nametag actually said Steve.

He had a leaf stuck in his hair, and his nose was abnormally rosy. Going by that and his nasal tone, he clearly had a cold. He sneezed, then looked annoyed at himself for doing so. “Ugh, sorry,” he apologized.

He was fucking adorable. It made Eddie smile. “Don’t be. I don’t really need help.” Not with flowers, anyway, just with everything else about his life. “I’m only browsing.”

It was a weird response, he realized. A guy like him, who looked like he belonged anywhere else, loitering in a shop like this. Just browsing. Right. Steve probably thought he was a creep.

Steve was surprised to hear that the man wasn’t looking for anything. Last time, he had bought something, so Steve had assumed he was a returning customer. He had been staring at the wedding arrangement, so maybe he was trying to figure out if Harrington Floral was the best place to get them from.

“That’s some talent you’ve got,” Eddie added, pointing to the display.

Steve felt himself flush. “Thanks,” he said softly, ducking his head bashfully. It wasn’t usually guys who were doling out compliments on the displays. Typically, they just asked for his advice on what they should buy for their significant others.

The redness that bloomed on Steve’s cheeks was just plain delightful. It could have been due to his illness, but Eddie was pretty sure it was a reaction to his compliment. His smile widened. “You made it, right?”

“Yes, I did. I make all the displays.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, missing the leaf by a mere centimeter. “I think I saw you last month when I was building one in the window over there. Are you sure you’re not interested in anything?”

Instead of answering, Eddie reached out and plucked the leaf out of Steve’s hair. “Sorry, you had a little bud-dy trying to catch a ride there. Was distracting the hell out of me.” Eddie showed him the small, curvy leaf.

Steve laughed, which made him cough a little. After clearing his throat, he got back to business. Steve was all about closing a sale, so he pushed a little. “Are you or someone you know getting married? I can, uh…” he thought quickly, “give you a free bouquet as a testimony to how well our flowers will hold up. I was just pruning the roses before you came in. What do you think about a bouquet of them?”

Steve remembered Eddie. And he’d laughed at Eddie’s horrible pun. But Eddie was caught off guard by the questions and the offering. Steve was observant. “I can’t let you do that,” he said. “My uncle is getting married. Hopefully. He hasn’t popped the question yet.”

It would be kind of terrible of him to accept free flowers if it didn’t work out and they never ordered any.

“That’s exciting,” Steve responded.

Genuinely, he felt like it was. Steve loved love. Working in a flower shop would be hard if he was bitter about being single. Also, the fact that someone else around his age wasn’t getting married made him feel a bit better about his own love life. Lately, it seemed like all his friends were getting hitched.

Eddie twirled a piece of hair around his finger, contemplating. He pocketed the little leaf. “I’m meeting the bride-to-be tonight. I suppose making a nice first impression wouldn’t be a bad idea.” He could give the flowers to Wayne to present to Kathleen when she came over. “How much for half a dozen?”

That was probably all he could afford, but he would be paying.

Eddie wasn’t selling as much anymore. Just weed, no powders or pills. Not since he’d discovered that one of his regulars had recently overdosed on Molly. He was at least partially responsible for that. He should have questioned the steadily increasing amount the guy was buying, but he had only been thinking about the money.

“Wouldn’t be a bad idea at all.” Steve had no intention of taking any money for the bouquet.

He walked around the store and started building it. Steve picked out four roses in red and pink, then added two pastel-dyed Asiatic lilies and sprinkled in a few strands of baby’s breath.

When he was finished, he went to the counter to put them down. He grabbed the twine and unrolled some tissue paper. “I’m sure there won’t be any more customers tonight. I’m kind of in charge, so I can totally give you these for free. Because I want to.”

Eddie pressed his lips together briefly, walking over and planting his forearms on the counter. He wasn’t some charity case. He didn’t like having debts, either. Maybe Steve had seen the type of clothes he wore and automatically assumed Eddie was trailer park trash who couldn’t afford it.

But Steve was smiling at him, looking sweet as a goddamn sugar cookie, and Eddie relaxed, rejecting the thought. That just didn’t seem right.

(Though why Steve wanted to give anyone, let alone Eddie, free flowers was a mystery.)

“You’re the boss, huh?” Eddie said. Steve looked young to own the shop, but maybe he was one of the Harringtons.

The name rang a bell. Steve Harrington. Dustin used to talk about a Steve during D&D. Gushed more than talked, really. Was he the same one?

“Technically, it’s my mom’s shop, but I’ve been running it for a while now,” Steve said. He couldn’t take all the credit.

Eddie gently drummed the counter, rings click-clacking as he watched those nimble fingers cut, tie, and wrap. His mom’s store. Well, wasn’t that precious.

Steve gave the bouquet one last critical look and a fluff with his fingers before handing it over. “With these, I think you’ll make the best impression. Maybe your uncle will even pop the question tonight!” Steve was excited for the groom to be even though he didn’t know him.

Eddie accepted the bouquet and looked down at it. “Thank you. It’s stunning.” Kind of like you.

He didn’t say that last part out loud, though he thought it hard enough that he’d probably projected it into Steve’s head.

Steve felt his face heat again. He didn’t know why he was reacting this way to the compliments. When women complimented his arrangements, he barely blinked.

Eddie brought the bouquet to his nose to smell its perfume. It brought another smile to his face before he lowered it. If Kathleen didn’t end up liking them, she was crazy.

Steve watched Eddie, grinning. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

Eddie’s gaze flickered up. He lowered the bouquet. Why were they both smiling like fucking idiots? “Eddie.”

��It’s nice to meet you, Eddie. Let me get you a card—you know, in case your uncle does propose and will need flowers from somewhere.” Steve grabbed one of the embellished business cards from the stack beside the register.

Eddie reached out to take it, and Steve sneezed again just as their fingers brushed. It was a big sneeze that made his face screw up and nearly blew him backward. Luckily, he managed to cover his nose before he bombed Eddie. Eddie tried not to laugh at his irritated expression and soft whine as he sniffled.

Eddie pocketed the card and tugged his handkerchief out at the same time. “Here,” he offered kindly, holding it out to Steve.

It was his favorite hanky, his pirate one with the skull and bones, but it was the least he could do.

Without thinking much about it, Steve took it and blew his nose. He let out a soft sigh, feeling a little better. Then he realized what he’d done. “Sorry…this is kinda gross now. Do you want it back?”

“Oh no—no, that’s yours now,” Eddie said hastily. “I insist. Consider it a token of my gratitude.” He lowered himself in a teasing bow. “Farewell, Steve, fine sir.”

So, so fine. Even with all the snot.

Eddie backed out of the store, still bent over for extra theatricality. When he straightened up, Steve looked confused but was red in the cheeks again. Score.

On the ride home, Eddie almost missed a turn because he kept glancing at the bouquet.

🌷🪻🌻🌹

co-writing this with @batty4steddie ��

#fic #wybmb #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steddie au #florist au #florist!steve harrington #🌹🌹🌹🌹

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kairismess · 10 months ago

Note

Hayoo!! Can I request Sakusa enemies to lovers?? I love the man sm :'))

hearts' day 009.

in which kiyoomi's got a soft spot for his favorite pain in the ass.

"i didn't hear a flush."

his deep, stern voice filled your ears as you exited the restroom, with sakusa about to use it next. his dark, wavy hair did nothing to obscure the total judgement he had written all over his face as he scrunched up his eyebrows and nose, practically glaring down at you as you exited the washroom with... wet hands, much to his disdain.

"...and you didn't even dry your hands?" he asked you with a slight scoff in his tone as his gaze darkened. you sighed and unceremoniously wiped your hands on your shirt, making sakusa part himself away from you even more. "that's even worse." "you're quite chatty today, omi, don't tell me you picked today to be a huge bitch." you retorted with a sly smile on your face, taunting him as he sprayed some sanitizer on his hands before opening the door to the comfort room.

"it appears your hands aren't the only body part you need cleaning today. i have a good mouthwash i could recommend you, i feel like you'll be needing it." he spoke with a condescending tone as he glared at you from underneath his dark bangs.

"and i think you need some bug killing spray. not for the roaches in the locker room, but for the pest i see in front of me right now." you retaliated, smiling widely and innocently as a vein popped up on sakusa's temple.

he wordlessly shut the door to the comfort room to do his business, making you chuckle a little under your breath as you mentally tallied your score against him for the 'greatest comebacks of all time' (in which, he was in the lead by about... 5 points).

you didn't exactly loathe sakusa, it was just so much fun to piss him off and make him walk away. he was always an interesting guy to you, just a little bit of... 'a bitch', as you loved to call him. to sakusa, you annoyed him more than the three thorns by his side: bokuto, hinata, and atsumu–and that was a great feat, because nobody in the history of ever has provoked sakusa to continuously answer back and one-up you more than they have.

you made sakusa feel like there was a little more to life than going to volleyball games, fan meet-ups (which he barely attended anyway), and just... anything else. you gave him some spice in his life, and though he had a preference for the bland, everyday he was so used to, it felt nice to have a little kick in his day when you start it off by giving him a backhanded compliment or a sly middle finger with a cute smile on your face.

when he entered the team's gym one day and didn't see you in your usual spot by the treadmills at the usual time you were there. he found it a little strange, but decided not to question it; he decided to text you after his training.

and true to his word, he had a brown paper bag full of bottled waters, fruits, and vitamin supplements. he handed you your favorite scented spray of his, he only knew it was your favorite when you asked him if he was wearing any perfume or where he got that scent from and presumed you took a liking to it.

you told sakusa weakly, and repeatedly, that you didn't need any help, that you were fine, despite being stuck to your bed and coughing and sneezing up a storm. "just shut up and let me take care of you. i'll help you get back to your snarky little self in a few days." he said with a softer voice than normal, about to spoon-feed you some homemade chicken soup that he made specifically for you.

you felt a little taken aback at his kindness, your eyebrows raising involuntarily at his act of charity. you decided not to fight it and give in to trust him and in his caregiving methods. he was surprisingly gentle with you, for a guy who would constantly chide and judge you to get back at you, he did do a good job of being sweet and caring at times.

maybe you wouldn't mind seeing this gentlemanly side of his more often now...

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bvidzsoo · 5 months ago

Text

Love Me Like A Rockstar (12)

ー☆ Chapter 12: Shame On Me

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cursing ー☆ Word count: 5.5k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hiii, my lovelies! Shorter chapter but you won't have to wait too long, I'll update next week again! I don't think there will be any more updates to my other stories this week because I'm going to visit my bestie on Thursday and I only come home on Sunday (can't wait to see you again Orsi *cries*). You know the drill, please listen to Shame On Me before or while reading, thank you!! So, uh, you all will hate me after this chapter, I'm sorry in advance, but you can go scream at me in the notes and reblogs! <3 However, I promise the angst won't last for too long :D Thank you all for reading and always leaving feedback, I appreciate it a lot! I hope you enjoy this chapter, don't hate me pls. divider

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf @hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380 @xciiiomwliah @vixensss @catchingskzzzs @tesssaurrr @ginger-mingi @mingisbbg

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

It was quite ominous how well I had slept last night, and despite feeling my eyes burn from staying up too late and not getting enough sleep, I felt well-rested. Perhaps the unusual warmth engulfing my body had something to do with the way my muscles seemed to become one with the mattress, and the comfortable weight around my waist also made me want to give in to the calling of another slumber. I had woken up a few times before, trying to find new comfortable positions as I could hear the birds chirp outside and the sweet cologne that clung to my clothes and the sheets tingled my nose in a way I had to suppress a sneeze. But the sun was high up in the sky already, the blinds open as I felt the warmth of the sunlight on my face. I released a content sigh as my muscles begged for a good stretch, making me groan when I felt a few vertebras pop, tension releasing between them. Gosh, I wish I could wake up feeling this refreshed every morning.

The covers were thick, and thus, the non-existent melody of the bed calling out to me to stay for longer won as I melted back against the pillow, licking my dry lips as I was mildly surprised that there was no impeding headache. I would usually feel hungover even if I drank only a little—hence why I preferred staying away from alcohol—but maybe that hot chocolate I had last night was some magic drink. There was a low groan next to me and I smiled for a second, feeling thick fingers tangle into the waistband of the sweatpants I was wearing, definitely not mine as they rode a little too low on my hips. The strings must’ve come undone in my sleep as I kept shifting around. Not really thinking as I was still under the blissful grip of a good night’s sleep, I sneaked my right arm underneath the covers and gently traced the warm skin of the arm pressing against my torso. There was another low hum and I smiled as I turned my head to the left, eyes protesting as I tried to peel them open. Perhaps that can wait until my brain is fully functioning.

“Good morning.” Mingi’s voice was husky and it covered my arms in goosebumps as I felt butterflies in my stomach, the heath of my cheeks unnatural once again.

“Morning.” I whispered and bit my bottom lip, feeling the bed shift again as Mingi’s hand now held my waist firmly, fingers rubbing circles into the skin where his borrowed t-shirt had ridden up. Feeling eyes on me, I opened one eye and chuckled as I saw Mingi’s puffy face, halfway hidden into his pillow as he lay on his stomach, red lips swollen and platinum blonde hair disheveled in every possible way. Mingi’s cheeks tinged pink and he grumbled something intangible as he hid his face into the pillow, feigning a tickle at my waist as I squirmed and pushed his hand off, heartbeat picking up as Mingi caught my hand before I could pull it away and interlaced our fingers. My eyes were painfully dry but I rubbed them with the heel of my left palm, rubbing my face afterwards as the haze of sleep slowly had started dissipating.

So, turns out all of this wasn’t a dream. I did go to Outlaw to watch Mingi perform, I did get drunk and got into a tiny argument with Mingi, and he did drive me home afterwards. And apparently, I did sleep over wearing his clothes and using his toiletries and we did—we did kiss. I gulped and licked my dry lips again, feeling the butterflies dissipate in my stomach as instead a lump formed in my throat. I released a shaky breath as I felt Mingi caress my knuckles underneath the covers, and then he turned his head to look at me. He looked—content. He looked happy. His face was serene and he looked like he has been waiting for this moment for ages. Something in my chest ached at the thought and I gulped, feeling the blissful morning daze dissipate completely and get replace by a slowly impeding dread. I released a shaky sigh as a heartbreakingly beautiful smile graced Mingi’s lips, mouth forming a boxy shape that showed all of his teeth—the protruding front ones that I grew to adore—his nose wrinkling and eyes creasing. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so good anymore, I felt like I wanted to cry.

Why was Mingi so perfect? Why was he so kind to me? Why did he treat me so well? Why was he so patient with me? Why did he stick by my side for so long? What was it about me that he liked? What did Mingi want from me?

I froze as suddenly Mingi pushed up onto his elbows and started leaning over me, that smile still present on his lips as he released my hand to caress my cheek. My hands trembled as I tried to hold his eye contact, but all of a sudden I felt sick. I felt dirty and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Everything smelled like Mingi, everything felt like Mingi—it was too much. Perhaps he saw the subtle shift in my expression as he stopped for a second, eyebrows slightly furrowing, but then his warm lips touched the corner of my mouth and it made my muscles tense up and send my mind off into an alarmed frenzy.

I couldn’t be here, I had to leave. No. What was I doing? How could I do this when I knew Mingi is Yunho’s best friend? How could I hide something like that from him? Why did I let him kiss me and why did I kiss him back? Why have I—why the hell have I started liking Mingi so much that having him next to me suddenly felt right and being away from him made me anxious, made it feel so wrong?

Unable to control myself anymore, I sprung up from the bed, trying to keep my breaths labored as Mingi sat up alarmed, eyebrows furrowing as he watched me scramble around his room looking for my clothes. I couldn’t remember where he had placed them last night—whether I had left them in bathroom or had brought them to the living room. I heard the sheets crinkle as no doubt Mingi was getting out of bed too, I could feel his piercing gaze follow my every move.

“You—” He hesitated for a second, “You don’t have to leave so early—I mean, it’s not that early, but I want to make us breakfast. I promise I’m not a bad cook.”

I bit my lower lip as my eyebrows furrowed, my body freezing as my heart clenched. I wanted that, I wanted to stay with Mingi and eat breakfast and laugh and just let go of everything and forget every single one of my worries, but I couldn’t. I felt so guilty, I couldn’t even turn around and face him. I had to leave and I had to get rid of him, it would be best for the both of us.

“I’m not hungry.” My voice was barely above a whisper, cold, and distant. I finally spotted my clothes sitting neatly folded on Mingi’s desk chair and I leaped towards them, my fingers curling tightly into them as I cradled them into my arms, somehow hoping that it would bring any sort of comfort. It didn’t because I could still feel Mingi’s eyes on me and hear the way his steps faltered.

“Oh, then…” He fell silent and I felt my hands’ tremors worsen, making me bite into my bottom lip to try and keep myself level-headed. It was hard, and I was failing at it, “We could grab some coffee and—”

“I’m going home, Mingi.” I snapped, cutting off his rambling because I was unable to listen to his warm and soothing voice anymore, now laced with obvious hurt and dejection. I wasn’t only hurting myself anymore, I was hurting him too. And I hated myself. He deserved better. Mingi deserves someone who cherishes him and makes him happy, not someone who brings his hopes up and then stomps on his heart like it means nothing. I didn’t want to do this, but I felt like I had no choice. I had dug my own grave by indulging into his little games—they weren’t games, Mingi has been genuine from the get go—and now here I was, suffering the consequences of my own actions.

“I—Y/N.” I froze as my hand reached for the handle to open the door, I couldn’t face him, “What we did—what happened last night, I—no, the kiss, we can’t just glaze over it, I can’t—I can’t do that anymore. Please, what are we?”

I squeezed my eyes shut at the sudden tears in them and inhaled a long breath, slowly twisting the handle of the door so that I could flee easier, “The kiss was—a mistake. We were both caught up in our feels and I—I didn’t mean to do that. I never wanted to kiss you. I don’t—it means nothing. We are nothing, Mingi.”

If the same words echoed in my mind but sounded a lot more masculine and venomous, puppylike eyes narrowed and glaring down at me, I gulped and repressed the memory, rushing out of Mingi’s room in a panic. I didn’t want to hear the way Mingi gasped nor the way he called out in confusion after me as I made it towards the shoe rack, finding my boots placed neatly next to his. It took everything I had in me to keep it together, to swallow the tears that wanted to escape my eyes, to keep my voice firm.

“What do you mean it meant nothing?” Mingi didn’t even sound angry, he sounded so utterly hurt, that a tear unintentionally trickled down my cheek, “It couldn’t have meant nothing, Y/N, we’ve been dancing around each other for too long for it to mean nothing. You’ve—I’ve kissed you before, not like this of course, but we did kiss and we’ve held hands and you—you can’t just fucking say it means nothing when it means everything to me!”

Fuck.

Perhaps it was good that he was finally showing any other reaction than disappointment and hurt, perhaps I pitied myself less if he was angry at me and shouting—I deserved it. I really did, every mean thing he’d hurl at me, I deserved to hear them because he was right. He was, he had always been. I’m a horrible awful being and I played with his feelings just like Yunho had played with mine. How could I hate Yunho so much when I was just like him?

“We’re both honest and blunt people, Mingi, there’s no reason to dance around this.” My voice sounded leveled, calm, almost as if it was mocking Mingi’s despair and I felt like complete shit, “Quite frankly put, I don’t want to see you again. This everything—whatever the hell we’ve been doing for the past three months, it was a shitshow. I don’t know what your purpose behind your actions was but I know mine and it has nothing to do with—whatever we’ve done last night. There’s no such thing as friendship between a girl and boy, it never works out, somebody always gets heartbroken and that’s exactly what’s happening right now. I think we both mislead each other, which led to this misunderstanding, so yes, it means nothing because I don’t want anything from you, but you clearly want something I cannot give you.”

The deafening silence felt like a slap to my face and it almost made me whirl around to apologize for my harsh words, to tell him that it was all a lie, that I liked him more than who I thought was my first love. I had always thought I loved Yunho with my whole being, that I gave him all of myself, but that wasn’t true. Yunho had never seen me at my lowest, Yunho never tried to fix the issues between us, he never reached out if he knew he did something wrong, he never even tried to pursue me—it was all me, all along. I was the one fighting for us and Yunho just went along with it because it was comfortable, because I was a stable point in his chaotic life, somebody he knew he could come back to. And I was treating Mingi as if he did the same thing to me, as if he was just another replica of Yunho—when he wasn’t. Mingi was so much more than Yunho would ever be, and I ruined everything in the span of five minutes.

I didn’t even bother lacing up my boots as I stepped into them, afraid to look back, but unable to stop myself when the silence just continued to stretch on. I didn’t expect to see Mingi’s eyes bloodshot, nor his bottom lip red and swollen from getting chewed on too much. Fuck, why did my heart ache more than when Yunho left me?!

“I never wanted to be your friend, doll.” The way his tone was emotionless yet his lips uttered the nickname, it made my lungs constrict as the lump got bigger and bigger in my throat, “But I knew you needed time, so I gave it to you. Perhaps—perhaps I shouldn’t have, maybe I should have been cleared with my intentions—”

“Mingi.” I snapped, eyebrows furrowing as we made eye contact. I couldn’t listen to him anymore; I couldn’t bear to hear him make up excuses for the sake of me. Why was he not screaming at me, why was he not hurting me? This is why he was too good for me, why I didn’t deserve him, “Delete my number.”

“You know your way out.” And I did know it. Without saying anything else, I unlocked the front door and ripped it open, slamming it shut behind me as I raced towards the stairs, hissing as my eyes got blurry and obscured my view of where I was stepping. But I had to get out of the building as fast as possible, scared that Mingi would race after me, that he’d try to reason with me one more time because it would work. It would work and I would give in. I would tell him the truth and then everything would be more painful. I was saving him from the betrayal he didn’t deserve, I was saving him from me, who never treated him right. I thought he was an asshole, an arrogant guy who yearned for attention and validation from every breathing female. But that wasn’t true, Mingi was a selfless and hard-working man who put others above himself, he wasn’t greedy and he wore his heart on his sleeve, ready to offer all the love his body contained without expecting anything in return. And I was a horrible human being because I took advantage of his kindness and goodness, because in the process of trying to get rid of him—I fell for him.

I was gasping for air by the time I stumbled out of the building, the wind harsh and cold as I scrambled to wear my jacket over Mingi’s thin t-shirt. It did nothing to shield me from the harsh weather and perhaps I deserved it, perhaps I deserved to be stared at by the passerby people with questioning or judgmental stares. I had no idea where I was, but thankfully finding my phone in my pocket, I was able to walk myself to a bus station and wait for a bus that would take me home. Mingi lived almost thirty minutes away from my place, but that was fine, I could keep it together for so long. I wouldn’t cry, I refused to cry, this was my own punishment. As I sat on the bench at the bus station, the heather above head lessening the chill that seemed to bite at my body, I closed my eyes and wallowed in the tumultuous emotions I felt.

This was far from how I wanted things to go, I thought I was better, that I could control myself and keep everything in check, but at last, I failed. I failed and now I hurt the guy I had fallen for. I was scared, I was afraid of getting left behind like it previously had happened, and so I wanted to protect myself. I struck before he could. I thought I would be protecting my heart and getting the upper hand, but then why was my heart aching and my stomach clenching so hard that it made me feel nauseous? Why do I always mess things up when they finally go right? Can’t I have something good for myself? Is it so hard to believe that not all guys are like Yunho? But Mingi is his best friend and it started getting easy to spot similarities between them the longer I hung out with Mingi. So could he really be much different from Yunho? I wouldn’t know, now, I would never find out.

I felt numb, both physically and emotionally, by the time I made it home. The house was empty and dark, rainclouds had gathered outside and I was thankful that I made it home before the downpour. It reminded me of Mingi, everything seemed to remind me of Mingi. I hated it, it made breathing harder as I peeled his clothes off myself and went into the shower, probably staying underneath the spray of the hot water for too long. My skin was all wrinkled by the time I got out and the rain came down heavily against the roof of the house, forcing me to dress up warmly and wear the hood of my hoodie as I was too tired and lazy to dry my hair. I was craving something hot to drink, but when my eyes fell on the hot chocolate in the cupboard I suddenly felt sick to my stomach and had to rush to the bathroom, heaving and heaving without throwing up anything. I felt like I was borderline dying, and I deserved it. I knew I did.

And when I was feeling my utmost worst, there was only one thing that could help. Drawing and painting. I stared at my sketchbook longingly, but decided to use a different one as that one was filled with sketches of Mingi’s eyes, and him performing on stage, him driving or him laughing with his boxy and gummy smile, his hands that were littered with rings, his peaceful face when he had fallen asleep once in the library while we were studying. But something that hasn’t happened before did happen now. No matter how much I stared at the blank paper, nothing came to me. My mind refused to conjure up any images, my hands refused to move. My grip on the pencil turned painful and I hissed as I pushed the sketchbook off my lap, throwing the pencil against the wall in frustration. I pulled my knees up to my chest as I listened to the heavy rain, staring at the window, watching as big drops rolled down quickly. The silence, the darkness, the numbness…it was beginning to be too much. I wished to see Mingi, I wished to talk to him, I wanted to fix this, but I couldn’t. I was an asshole and going back to him just hours later after being a dick and probably hurting him beyond forgiveness was an even bigger dick move. I just couldn’t do it, so, I closed my eyes and waited. For what, I didn’t know until my phone rang loudly, making me jump out of my skin.

I was stupid for feeling a flicker of hope that it was maybe him, but my heart settled when Seulgi’s smiling face greeted me once I grabbed my phone. I sighed and picked up, beyond grateful that she probably had a feeling that things weren’t going so well anymore. I could feel the small smile stretch onto my lips, the greeting on the tip of my tongue, but Seulgi beat me to it.

“What have you done.” I froze, heart falling into my stomach at the harsh tone of my best friend, eyebrows furrowing in worry. Seulgi never spoke like that to me—to anyone—she was a ray of sunshine and she never got angry, she was never disappointed, she never treated anyone roughly, “Y/N!”

I jumped at the way she yelled my name, gulping down nothing as my mouth had gone dry, “I—nothing. I did nothing—”

“You’re full of shit.” Seulgi snapped and I felt my lips tremble as her voice raised in anger, “How can you say you did nothing when Mingi has been at Wooyoung’s ever since noon and hasn’t stopped bawling his eyes out?! He’s not speaking, he’s not eating, he’s not even moving, Y/N. What did you do?”

“I—” I gulped, voice faint as I felt my eyes fill with tears, “I didn’t mean to, I—I told him it was nothing. That I—didn’t want to see him again. I just—I’m scared, Seulgi.”

“You’re the fucking worst, Y/N.” Seulgi’s tone didn’t soften, if anything, it got harsher and I heard someone in the background call out her name in a quiet warning, “How could you say that to Mingi out of all people?! Are you seriously joking right now?! Did you feel good playing around with him when he has made it so fucking clear that he was into you? That he likes you? That he wants to be with you? You aren’t even dense not to see things like this, Y/N, you straight up played with his feelings and then crushed his heart like it meant nothing.”

“I’m sorry.” I whispered, sniffing loudly as Seulgi scoffed. Hearing everything out loud and getting scolded by my best friend probably was the worst feeling ever. I knew I had fucked up colossally if she was taking Mingi’s side, rightfully so.

“I can’t believe you treated him like nothing,” A slight pause and then her voice dropped to a low whisper, “Like Yunho has treated you. You said the same thing to him, Y/N, aren’t you ashamed of yourself—”

“I fucking hate myself, Seulgi!” I exclaimed, frustrated and panicked and annoyed and wounded, “I didn’t mean for this to happen, but I’m scared! I can’t—what if he leaves me? What if he’s worse than Yunho’s ever been?!”

“We were teenagers back then.” Seulgi sighed and her voice softened the slightest, “And Yunho was an asshole from the very beginning, you just refused to see it. Mingi has always been genuine with you, fair, and kind. Yet you saw that and still threw him to the curb.”

“I’m sorry.” I felt a tear trickle down my cheek and I quickly wiped it away, refusing to cry. I didn’t deserve to cry.

“You should be saying that to Mingi, not me.” There was light shuffling in the background and then I heard different voices talking to Seulgi, “Seonghwa is here too now, I have to go. You better fix this even though I don’t know if you deserve his forgiveness at this point.”

“Don’t say that.” I whispered, but Seulgi hung up without saying goodbye, and suddenly I didn’t know what to do anymore. The phone fell from my hand as I stared with tear filled eyes at my mother’s guitar, flashes of Mingi’s excitement upon seeing it fresh in my mind, making my throat close up. I couldn’t breathe. Mingi wasn’t talking to anyone and it was because of me, I did that. I made him feel like that and I didn’t even know how to fix this anymore. Could I fix it? Or have I fucked up so badly that he’ll never forgive me? I knew for a fact that if I were Mingi, I wouldn’t forgive myself no matter how much he would’ve begged or tried making things right. Just as my head fell onto my knees and I squeezed my eyes shut, annoyed that the unshed tears kept persisting, there was a knock on my door. I hadn’t even heard my mother get home.

She gently pushed the door open and peered inside with a curious look on her face, looking excited as I turned my head to look at her. She grinned and suddenly stepped inside, holding up a small box in excitement. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched her grab a paper out of it, giving me a cheeky smile as she cleared her throat, “‘I hope every time you drink your hot chocolate out of this mug you’ll be reminded of me, doll – S.M.’”

I suppose that was all I needed for the cup to be full, to be tipped over the edge as the tears suddenly sprung free, ripping loud sobs from my throat as I grabbed at my hair, yanking on the strands harshly. My mother gasped in fright and I heard movement behind myself, then I felt hands untangle my fingers from my hair, placing them in my lap with one hand as with her other hand she cradled my head against her chest. She smelled like the sanitizers they used at the hospitals, infused with a little musk as it was my mother’s favorite scent, and I was suddenly so grateful for having her. I turned my body to hug her tightly, crying into her chest like I was a little girl once again. My mother sighed as I felt her pat my head and rub my back up and down, humming a song I knew all too well as we used to listen to it a lot while I was growing up. The weight of her chin felt comforting against the top of my head and I gripped her work clothes perhaps a little too tight, but I didn’t care. I have missed her embrace, I missed laughing with her and crying with her, I have missed talking to her. After Yunho left me, I became closed off. I didn’t let anyone know how I felt or what I was going through, and despite my mother being a nurse, she could only help me if I let her—and I didn’t. I was repulsed by any closeness and I needed to be on my own. Days turned into months and those into years, and it took me this long to realize I wasn’t doing as well as I thought I was.

“Mom,” I was still crying, but my sobs have stopped, “I messed up so bad.”

She hummed as her fingers tried to untangle the knots in my hair, “Does it have to do anything with whom the mug is from?”

I nodded wordlessly and she hummed again, tapping my thigh for me to pull back, “Is it that tall boy with sharp eyes, cute glasses and sweet smile, fluffy dark hair?”

“He’s blonde now.” I muttered as I sniffed loudly and disgustingly as I pulled back, letting my mom wipe my tears off my face.

“You hate blonde guys, though.” She muttered with her eyebrows furrowed as I sheepishly looked up into her eyes.

“I know.”

A beat of silence passed and then she started giggling, prompting me to giggle along, my heart still aching but the relief of being in her arms made me feel like I could breathe once again, “Well, that is no good then. I hope you aren’t crying because this S.M. boy went blonde—”

“Song Mingi, his name is Song Mingi.” I whispered as I chewed on my bottom lip, averting my eyes, “I can’t believe you already forgot his name.”

“Well, I’m particularly bad with names, starlight.” My mother chuckled and I felt a smile tug at my lips. She always found peculiar nicknames to call me by, “And he never came over for dinner, that was my trick to remember his name and well—get to know him better, I suppose.”

“He’s not coming over for dinner—like ever.” My tone was grim as I grumbled, picking at my cuticle as I looked down at my lap, avoiding the look of confusion on my mother’s face.

“So, things didn’t work out…” I hummed and sighed, pulling away completely from my mother’s embrace.

“I’m a fool.” I muttered as I pulled my knees up to my chest again, staring at my socked feet. My mother placed her hand on my shoulder and massaged it softly, “I hurt him and now he hates me. I said what happened between us meant nothing, but I was lying. I think I’m in love with him, mom.”

“Has he said that he hates you?” My mother raised her eyebrows in question and I shook my head, “Then he doesn’t hate you. Yes, you hurt him with your harsh words but if you really love him—what’s holding you back, my starlight? You’re a smart woman and you know how to fix your mistakes, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you. So don’t just sulk and wail and make him hurt for no reason—”

“He’s Yunho’s best friend.” I whispered, peeking up at my mother’s face, surprised to find a smile that looked both comforting and amused.

“And does he know that?”

“What?” I asked confused, making my mother chuckle, “Of course he knows he’s Yunho’s best friend.”

“That’s not what I asked, starlight.”

“No, he doesn’t know.” I muttered and grimaced as my mother shook her head at me, “I never found the right moment to tell him, actually, things were never supposed to get this far, mom.”

“I see,” My mother hummed and leaned closer, “You know, I’m speaking based on many years of experience, but this Mingi boy doesn’t seem like the type to hold grudges for too long or judge you for your past. Sure, it must feel weird knowing your current girlfriend has dated your best friend, but that was like ages ago—and you’re still making a big deal out of it—”

“Mom.” I groaned, giving her an unimpressed look, but she only giggled.

“You know, you didn’t take after me for being so dramatic.” She pursed her lips and suddenly pushed me over, making me fall to my side with a loud gasp, “It’s one of the few reasons your father didn’t stick around for long—he was too dramatic.”

“I thought he left us.” I muttered as I sat up straight, making my mother roll her eyes at me.

“He certainly did after I told him I didn’t need a junkie in my house while I was trying to raise my child—” She rolled her eyes then stood up, extending her hand out for me, “And then he thought I tried to baby trap him—huh, what an idiot. Who wants to baby trap a broke dude who’s doing nothing with his life while I was in school learning to be a nurse and girlbossing my way through life?!”

“Don’t ever again say girlbossing, mom.” I groaned embarrassed as I let her help me up.

“What?!” She chuckled, holding my hand gently, “It’s cool, everyone at the hospital says it—well, the younger generation. Anyways, we’re going to cook yummy dinner together, and then I’ll magically make some ice cream appear from our fridge and I have some really nice wine hiding in the cupboard, waiting for us to consume it while you tell me everything about this Song Mingi guy. We haven’t had a girl’s night in so long, I missed you, Y/N.”

“I missed you too, mom, but,” I frowned as I let her pull me after herself, “you do realize I’m suffering and am on the verge of having another break down, yet you still want me to talk about Mingi?”

“It’s called therapy, honey, even if I’m not a therapist.” She shrugged as we walked down the stairs, “Besides, I’ve got some bomb advice to give you to win this boy over. I can’t believe I managed to raise a strong and independent woman that’s emotionally constipated!”

“Oh, my God.” I muttered under my breath, wondering just how many of her coworkers were too young for her to be hanging around, and why on Earth were they teaching my mother cringey slang.

But she was right. I did need her advice, desperately so, and having a girl’s night while I can talk about Mingi without feeling embarrassed to admit I am into him sounded nice—especially now that I have successfully fucked everything up.

『You run away when you just can't face it

Hide in the dark, but you know you hate it』

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fbfh · 2 months ago

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hmm more leo valdez x reader as parents..

You both knew being parents would have ups and downs, but to your surprise there really weren't that many low points. Your daughter, Sophia, is two, and your well into your second trimester with her soon to be baby brother. Leo thinks the problem started at the park, but you're sure it must have been the playdate with the kid who picks his nose. Either way, your little angel now has a terrible cold.

"Seriously, Annabeth," you sigh into the phone, "poor thing's sick as a dog."

Phia is laying on your lap in her favorite jammies while you rub her back. She can feel the soothing warmth of your hand through the fleecy fabric with little sheep printed on it, and she sighs, coughing a little. Your phone buzzes with an incoming call from Leo, so you say goodbye to Annabeth and hang up, taking your husband's call.

"How's she doing?"

Your heart swells. Despite all the stuff going on in your personal and professional lives, the first thing he asks is if your baby girl is okay. You consider for a moment, looking down at her.

"She's okay," you say, "as much as anyone would be."

"Good." He nods, relieved that she isn't feeling worse than she had been when he left to go to the store. "I'm getting the popsicles now, what flavor did she want?"

You smooth down the flyaways in her hair that looks so much like Leo's, getting her attention.

"Daddy's at the store, bubs. What popsicles do you want?" You ask softly. She sneezes and sniffles before answering.

"Summer-sicles..."

You smile sweetly, turning back to your phone.

"The red white and blue bottle pops." You say. She first tried them on a visit to Camp Half Blood, and they quickly became her favorite. She ate them all summer, hence the nickname summer-sicles.

"Got it." Leo states, and you know he does. "I'll be home in 10. I love you both so much, give her an extra snuggle for me till I get back."

She climbs up into your lap a little more, groaning and rubbing her nose. You place the back of your hand on her forehead, thankful that her fever isn't any worse. The front door opens, and before you can wonder if Leo somehow made it back in a fraction of the time he predicted, you hear a familiar voice.

"Mija!"

Thank the gods. Esperanza is here. You scoop up your daughter and walk to the door to greet her.

"Oh honey..." she coos as her grandbaby reaches out for her.

"Hi 'buela," she sniffles. Esperanza scoops her up and brings her back to the little nest of plushies and blankets you'd made on the couch.

"Ay, mi vida... Mírate, pobre bebe," Esperanza fusses over her, laying her down on the couch. She takes one look at you and can tell how tired and worried you and Leo have been. She reaches out, caressing your cheek.

"You go take a break, mija. I brought everything we need to get our little girl up and running again."

To your surprise, she's actually able to make Sophia giggle. You think it's the first time she's properly laughed since she came down with this bug, and your relief is palpable. Esperanza stands back up, digging through the bags she brought. She pulls out a few containers of food, a tub of vaporub, and a bottle of sprite.

She scrunches up the ankles of Sophia's pajamas and rubs some vaporub onto the bottom of her feet, then grabs a pair of her socks from a laundry basket you forgot to take upstairs. You give her a hug from behind, appreciating everything she does for you, for Sophia and Leo, for bringing Leo into the world in the first place. You thank her, then take the tupperwares of food into the kitchen to start heating up. Soon the kitchen will be filled with the smell of Esperanza's soup, Leo will be home with the popsicles, and after a solid nap you know your girl will be right as rain.

#drabbles #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez drabbles #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus drabbles #father of the bride 2 #dad!leo #parent au #GOD I LOVE HIM

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justalittlelilac · 27 days ago

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Hiii! Since you're asking for prompts... how about sick step 2 Qiu with a high fever? Being clingy and accidentally confessing their love for the MC? 🥺

This is so cute, I'm going to lose my mind.

Caring for a prickly, clingy Qiu Lin

Barely revised and edited. If you see mistakes, no you didn't <3

It wasn’t uncommon for Qiu to not answer when you knocked on their bedroom door, but this was concerning. You shifted the food tray in your hands, trying not to spill the steaming chicken noodle soup that Mrs. Lin had carefully prepared. The familiar smell of ginger filled the hallway, reminding you of all the times you'd eaten dinner at their house.

Silence was still your only greeting from behind the barrier separating you and your friend.

“Qiu? It’s me. Your mom sent me up with some food and medicine for you. Can I come in?” You asked, concern lacing your words. You pressed your ear against the cool wood of the door, straining to hear any sign of life within.

There was a beat of quiet, but from the other side you heard shuffling, something toppling with a hollow thud, and the distinct sound of papers and pens falling to the wood floor. Qiu’s voice reached you, except it sounded more like a muffled groan. You took that as enough acknowledgment to breach the quarantine zone.

Qiu’s room was usually messy, but that could be an understatement compared to the scene you were met with now. Beyond the typical scattered clothes and notes, tissues covered every surface like confetti after a party. Wrappers from various types of snacks and cough drops, and the occasional water bottle were like little islands everywhere.

Extra pillows and blankets were strewn about the floor as if Qiu had rotated between their bed and the cooler surface of the hardwood. Your eyes traced a path to their mattress, which housed a rather miserable looking lump. The top of Qiu’s head was the only thing visible from the blankets.

Approaching slowly, you placed the food tray down on their night stand, nearly knocking off half empty water bottles and their journal. Qiu was turned away from you on their side, eyes closed, cheeks red, and their dark hair loose around their face.

"I'm dead. Go away," they grumbled softly. Their form remained turned away from you.

"That's weird. Dead people don't talk," you quipped, making yourself comfortable on the edge of the mattress. Qiu's face didn't change, not even an eyebrow twitch to indicate they heard you. "I really don't want to bury you," you added when they didn't respond, clearly taking your point into consideration.

After a moment, you shrugged your shoulders and rose, giving a dramatic sigh. "Alright, I guess I'll go get the shovel. I was really hoping it wouldn't have to come to this." You turned to head to the door, intending to just venture downstairs to let Mrs. Lin know you had made the successful delivery.

You hadn't taken three steps before Qiu Lin's head popped up, their hair sticking out every which way and glassy eyed.

"Wait," they croaked. You turned back, trying not to smirk as they avoided your eyes. "I may not be dead, but I am definitely dying," they declared, then sneezed into their elbow as if to prove their point. They flopped back onto the bed like a deflated balloon.

"Ew," you responded with another laugh, returning to your previous sitting position. With a sniffle, they stretched their arm, fumbling around on their night stand, and nearly landing their digits in the bowl of soup. You acted fast, reaching over to supply a clean tissue to their hand. Their tired eyes met yours with a small, grateful smile.

"Thanks," they said, before blowing their nose like trumpet. "What are you doing here anyway?" They blinked at you like they'd completely forgotten about the tray of food right next to them.

"You were dead, remember? Your mom let me in because she knows you'd want someone to mourn you properly."

Qiu rolled their eyes, but their smile stuck around. "She probably would rather have you around anyway." They pushed themselves up against their pillows, which took way more effort than it should have.

"Maybe, but I think she'd miss her only child," you assured optimistically, poking them in the leg. They winced, and you immediately felt bad. "And I would too," you added quickly.

Qiu's cheeks grew redder, though with their fever it was hard to tell if you'd actually made them blush.

"I have been sick for years," they insisted, but their tone was a little lighter than their previous attempts to convince you of their demise.

"You're so dramatic. Here, eat and take your medicine. I command it." You placed the tray in their lap like a stern head nurse. They blinked down at the contents, not realizing it was there until now.

"Chicken noodle soup?" was all they asked, eyes shifting from the steaming bowl of broth, noodles, and veggies to your face.

"Your mom said it's your favorite," you shrugged, watching their expression carefully. They didn't react any further than that, and picked up the spoon to begin eating.

The room grew quiet aside for the occasional slurp, but it was a comfortable kind of quiet, the kind that happens when you've known someone long enough that you don't need to fill every silence.

When they finished, Qiu wiped their mouth with their sleeve, then noticed the napkin on the tray and gave you a sheepish look. You just shook your head and handed them their water bottle and the medicine. Once they'd taken everything, you helped move the tray away.

Qiu shuffled in the bed, sinking back down into the blankets. You assumed that was your cue to leave and stood to do so. Subtly, you felt a tug on your pant leg. Turning to look down, you found Qiu's fingers pinching the fabric. Their eyes were closed, but where their face should have been relaxed, ready for rest, was the furrowed brow of confliction.

"I don't want you to go, but I don't want you to get sick too," they muttered into their blanket.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" You couldn't help grinning. Even sick, Qiu was too fun to tease. Their brows furrowed even harder and the corners of their lips pulled down slightly, as if the pain of repeating themselves was greater than the fever ache.

"I said, I don't want you to go, but I don't want you to get sick," they grumbled out, just slightly clearer than before.

Oh.

You had half expected them to ignore you in favor for not having to repeat themselves. Qiu's eyes opened, and they peered up at you expectantly. It took you a moment to realize you needed to respond.

"Oh, well, I guess I can stay for a little while." You tried to play it cool, but it was hard to ignore the feeling in your chest, a mix of flattery and the excitement that came with having a crush.

"Besides, I have an immune system of steel. I'm pretty sure I have ancestors that were impervious to the black plague or something," you added casually as you sat back down.

You were trying to keep the mood light, remembering how your mom would say that laughter is the best medicine. It was also to reassure Qiu that if they wanted you here, you would stay, sickness or not.

It may not have cured them immediately, but you did catch their smile as they scooched over to give you more room. Their bed wasn't huge, but it was big enough that you could fit next to them with while they propped themselves up again.

There was a beat of silence as the both of you were not quite sure where to go from there, but then Qiu Lin broke the pause.

"Sorry," was all they said. Their eyes darted to your face, and then back down to their lap. "About the whole thing," they tacked on after a pause.

"What?" You asked with your head cocked in confusion. Qiu rolled their lips into their mouth, you could feel the heat radiating off them. Hopefully the fever medicine would kick in soon.

"I just don't want you to be bored," they explained, looking at you with an expression that seemed to be asking more than their words were saying.

"Qiu, you are literally my favorite person to be around, you know that," you said it so simply, like it was a universal fact. "I do have my phone though. We can watch videos or something." You reached into your pocket to pull out your mobile device and wave it subtly.

The tension in their shoulders loosened and they nodded at your suggestion. Qiu was a bit slow, but they eventually settled against you. Their body was burning up against your skin, but you didn't mind. You could handle it.

You pulled up YouTube and clicked on a video you'd watched recently. After a while, Qiu's head dropped onto your shoulder, their breathing getting slower and steadier. When you glanced down, their eyes were closed, face finally relaxed instead of scrunched up in misery.

They let out a content sigh, snuggling closer like your mere presence was the cause of comfort and not the ibuprofen they'd taken.

"Your my favorite person too...you're always there for me...that's why I love you," Qiu murmured so softly, so gently, that it came out like they were expressing it more to themselves than to you. As if they had intended it to be said in their fevered mind than out loud.

If the sound of your video hadn't been playing, one would be able to hear a pin drop. That would be due to your halted breath. Your wide eyes lingered on their relaxed, sleeping face.

"I love you too, Qiu," you whispered the words back to them. They didn't respond. Sleep had claimed them once more. Your attention turned back to the video, dissecting what hat just transpired.

Eventually, you did leave Qiu and the Lin residence when you were sure your friend was deep in sleep. Your thoughts were scattered, unsure if Qiu's words were that of a friend or more.

But you didn't get a chance to bring it up, because two days later, the tables turned completely. You and Qiu had switched places as the patient and caregiver.

You were convinced your friend must have had the plague with how bad you were feeling. They called you dramatic in return.

"Maybe it's not the plague, maybe it's a different disease," you mumbled incoherently into your pillow. You were sweating like no tomorrow and the only reason your face was pressed to the soft surface was because it was cooler than the air around you. "Now I'm the one who is going to die and it's going to be all your fault Qiu Lin," you groaned.

Qiu laughed, crawling onto your bed to sit beside you, a mirror image from when they were sick.

"You can't die. If you do, how will I tell you 'I love you more' when you say 'I love you too'?"

You turned your face to theirs, the heat rising in your cheeks was absolutely definitely from the fever, and not from what Qiu had just said. They were giving you that soft lopsided smile they always did as they brushed a piece of hair from your sweat drenched forehead.

"Okay." It was all you could respond for the moment. "I won't die then."

#idk how to write a short response sorrryy #thanks for the prompt!#our life #fanfic #olnf #our life: now & forever #our life now and forever #qiu lin #qiu lin x reader

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tarantulasnot · 3 months ago

Text

Sudden ramble because I want to.

Hi! This is the snot that the original tarantula did not expect to sneeze out and it became way more drawn out than I thought it would!!

Content Contains: Yearning, rushed slow burn, Leon is an alcoholic, masturbation, Leon thinks about how much the reader cares and pops a wad, but it means something chat, will have a part two.

Imagine like an old vendetta Leon that lives in a small apartment. Something cheap. After all, it's not like he's going to have any time to actually take care of it. Just dump some of the useless amount of money he has into it every month and crash every once in a while. It's simple, and it keeps his alcohol in a safe place.

But then there was you. The sweet girl next door, barely aware of the horrors of the world. So naive, so God damn innocent with your bright eyes and big dreams. He never expected to see a little ray of sunshine living so close to him. So, it took him by surprised when you greeted him old-fashioned. An apple pie you baked on your downtime to relieve stress from your college life.

Your voice was so sweet. So open-hearted he almost wanted to vomit. "Hi! I'm your next door neighbor (Y/N), and I figured I'd bring you a welcome gift." Your hands gesture the fresh pie towards him, and his nose scrunches up at the sight. What was this? Some kind of cheesy rom-com? What was your angle? Why were you buttering him up like this?

"Thanks." His voice was gruff and low, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation, so you were quick to let it go. "Oh yeah, of course. I live right across from you, so feel free to stop by anytime. I make enough pastries to make a dentist rich." Ah, what a jokester you were.

Still, his blue eyes never left your face. You were such a pretty little thing. So unreal, so contrasting to him. It almost felt impossible. To have such... normalcy in his life.

"Yeah, okay." He took the pie from your hands, and he gave a short wave good-bye before he closed the door. First day here, and he was already feeling like his simple apartment was going to be a hassle. He had to avoid you.

But later that night, he stares down at the pie in front of him. Still in its tin, glaring at him as he sits down across from it. It's clear you put in great effort, and he fiddles with his fork. He can't let it go to waste, and it's not like it was bad. But a part of him felt so wrong. He didn't deserve this. This sweet pastry as opposed to gas station snacks and whatever rations the government decided to supply him with while he was on missions. If those ran out? The fish he'd pick up or the animals he'd shoot down.

The creatures he'd shoot down before leaving them to rot. Not quite that deprived yet.

He took a swig of his flask, relishing in the burn down his throat... and then he dipped his fork into the pie.

Leon had a mission today. Quite literally. Some stupid bio-terrorism somewhere he didn't really pay attention to but would be debriefed on again when he got there. He spent his morning equipping himself with his knife, his gun, some ammo, and whatever other necessities would be most likely to ensure his survival.

He doesn't own any mirrors. He doesn't care to if he's going to come home fucked up anyway. Leon exits the front door, locking it behind him and he heads towards the stairs.

And he sees you again.

Your appearance is so vastly different from his. Your hair has been styled in a way that fits you perfectly, your makeup flawless, and a fresh clean outfit adorns your body to match the messenger bag strewn over one shoulder. Then you smile at him

Did you always smile like that? This frequently?

"Hey again! Did you like the pie last night?" That voice brings him out of his fleeting thoughts, and he nods as you slow your descend down the stone steps. His pace ambling down to match yours.

"Yeah, I did." If Leon had the mind to, he would have given a more sociable, reciprocal reply. However, that's not him anymore. He doesn't care to find the him that would anyway.

"Well that's good. I'm glad." You reply, now walking side by side with him. His icy blue eyes graze over you, the warmth that seems to just radiate off of you.

Eventually, you both reached the bottom, and he finds his bike was parked next to your car. It fits you, and it fits him. Your car, with interior decorations and even a padded steering wheel cover for extra comfort. His bike, which is so easy to flip and likely to be hit. So easy to be in the wrong place at the right time.

"I didn't catch your name yesterday." Good. You didn't need to know it. In the same hand, why was it such a problem? It was just a name.

"Leon. My name's Leon." He replies simply, throwing his leg over his bike as you unlock your car.

"It was nice talking to you again, Leon." You reply with a goodbye wave, and a smile.

Something in his chest leaps. There was something about the way you said his name. It wasn't beckoning him to follow along some plan he wasn't aware of, and it wasn't ordering him to do something. Its just...

Fuck.

Leon rarely ever gets back from missions during the day. However, a week later he does. In a way, it's like a little reprieve. Enough time to patch himself up and relax (to the best he can with the help of alcohol) before he goes to sleep.

So today, as he sits on his couch staring mindlessly at some movie playing on the cheap cable the complex provides, his thoughts wandered. Blurred and aimless as the alcohol continues to pump into his bloodstream. However, he thinks back to the pie that night.

It was the best, and the first one he's had since he was a boy. Did he like it, you asked him. God, he loved it. After the first bite, he was like a man starved man. His mind practically left him as he took bite after bite after bite until there was nothing but tin and crumbs in front of him.

If he wanted to be existential, he felt in some way like he was eating a part of you. It was authentic. Peeled honeycrisp apples not totally softened from the heat, the crust so obviously hand kneaded by the uneven and plushness of it. Plush, like you. Like your cheeks when you smiled. They seemed so soft.

Calloused fingertips came up to his own face, grazing over the stubble and wrinkles there. He clenched his jaw, slamming his hand down and throwing back his flask once again.

Then, his thoughts returned to other things.

To Leon's surprise, there was no call at three in the morning demanding his help with some bio-terrorism or some cooky scientist. Instead, after he'd woken up and began to spike his own coffee, there was a knock at his door.

Well, the good Lord gives, and the good Lord takes away.

Maybe if he didn't see things that God could not have possibly allowed, he might have actually sought the deity out.

Footsteps trudge to his front door, swinging it open and looking down at his visitor. It's you. Of course it's you.

His hands flex on the edge of the door, and his eyes look down at you. "Hi, (Y/N)." He greets you, and once again you give him another smile. God fucking dammit, are you even capable of feeling anything other than optimism?

"Morning Leon! Well, I know you didn't ask, but college has yet again led me into insane amounts of baking. I know you liked the pie last time, so I was wondering if you'd like some breakfast? I have a surplus over here..." You let out a soft laugh at the end of your sentence, tucking hair behind your ear. God your face, the one he'd been thinking about last night.

Mulling over the thought, he agreed. "I don't see why not."

It truly wasn't a long visit. You weren't lying about that, or the surplus you'd whipped up. He wondered how much you spent on ingredients for these little concoctions you made. Maybe he'd give you some money. He had enough of it laying around. Practically useless.

He sat at his table. Staring at the treats you'd covered in saran wrap. It wasn't just pastries either. There was shepherd's pie in a Tupperware dish, chicken pot pie, and he wondered what you did with all this food. Maybe you handed it out to all the neighbors you knew.

Oh. He didn't like that.

He'd already finished his spiked coffee, and was now sipping on straight vodka as he glared down at the sweets. He knew what people were like. He betted they all wanted a piece of you. God, why wouldn't they?

You were sweet, kind, gentle, and you had that fucking smile... looked at him like he was special. Something to care about. Were you pitying him? No, you wouldn't do that.

You were just a good person.

You were gorgeous, too. Such a lethal combination, and you didn't even know it. He wondered if you had a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend.

He took another swig, his brows furrowing as he tried to think about something else. But alas, he couldn't.

Who wouldn't want to snatch you up? Come over every now and then to look at your smile and your pretty face, and eat the stuff you baked so impulsively.

Who wouldn't want you?

You were young, you'd probably want to do something with a lover. What kind of lover were you? Were you shy and timid? Blushing and moaning softly as someone fucked you?

If he fucked you?

You'd want to settle down probably... you seemed the type. He couldn't settle down, though. Not with all these grueling missions he's forced to do.

But wouldn't it be nice to come home to someone like you? A pretty smile waiting to greet him with food in the oven and a house that wasn't dusty. Full of the life he was missing from himself?

His breathing unconsciously became more labored the more he thought about it. You'd have a limited amount of time with him. He'd make the best of it. Eating the food you made and thanking you. Helping you clean and relaxing with you. Something to keep him company besides the steel flask he brings to his lips again.

He'd fuck you.

His hands would dwarf your thighs as he lifts your hips up and down on his cock while his own hips snap up into you, your warmth. His hand leaves his flask to his forehead as his other hand drifts down his abdomen, skin twitching under his own touch. His brows furrowing as a low groan escapes him.

Would you beg him to slow down? Cry about how full you felt with his cock pressing against every soft contour your cunt had to offer him. Only for him. You'd look up at him with half lidded, fluttering eyes and swollen, parted lips as he fucked you like he needed to.

His head was already muddled from the alcohol, but the lust only made his head swim further and further into untouched depths until he's palming himself through sweapants, his hips shifting and twitching in excitement. A groan tears from his throat. Would you press your palm against him like this? Feel him up with curiosity, unaware of how fucking good it felt?

Would you put him past your lips? Sweet words interrupted by his cock, soft cheeks red and stained with tears as he fucks your throat.

His hand dipped below to his waistband to his throbbing cock. His tip already leaking with anticipation as he spreads the essence over his length.

You were nice, but maybe you weren't as naive as he's making you out to be. Maybe you'd have him laid out on his back, situated between his legs as you stroke him, making him groan and grip the bedsheets because your hands would be so fucking soft. So experienced, gliding over his cock as he's helpless to it. Watching you as you work his old cock with enthusiasm only young girls like you had.

His hand pumps faster, and he's borderline whimpering at the thought. Maybe you'd take care of him. Pin him down with your hands on his chest while your hips slammed down on top of his like your life depended on it. His hips would twitch uselessly, too focused on your cunt sucking him in and the gloss decorating his cock as you used him to make yourself cum. It's the least he can do, after all these pastries you've made him.

Only him.

You'd treat him so fucking good.

"F-Fuck!" Leon can't help himself when a strangled groan escapes his lips, cock shooting white hot ropes into his hand and onto the floor as he cums, thighs twitching and chest heaving as he comes down from his high.

It takes a second for him to get over the aftershock before his eyes flicker open, and he states at the cooling food in front of him. With a sigh, he tucks himself into his pants, and grabs a brownie. His other hand picking up his flask again.

I will make a part two but it's getting late and I'm moving in two days so erm yeah eat your food. The next chapter will be from the reader's perspective muehehe

#leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #resident evil #resident evil vendetta #vendetta leon #vendetta leon smut #vendetta leon x reader #leon x reader smut #vendetta leon x reader smut #leon is an alcoholic #send him to rehab #or send him to the reader

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