#so i just haven't shared anything or really kept writing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tetsumie · 1 year ago

Text

"𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘" 𝐏𝐓 𝟐

read part 1 here!

pairing: kuroo x reader & bokuto x reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content: the boys call you clingy but they don’t mean it

a/n: hello ahhh it's been awhile since i've posted but i'm trying to get back into the habit of writing again! someone in my inbox had requested me to add bokuto to this list so i tried my best but i hope you all enjoyed this and feel free to stop by my inbox to leave a comment, tell me your thoughts, or just lmk how it's going hehe :,)

kuroo tetsuro

"i'm home," a mumble echoed out into the empty living room.

at the sound of the door opening, you make your way out of your shared bedroom to greet your overworked boyfriend, kuroo.

"hi baby," you replied with a tired smile on your features.

the door closes and kuroo slides off his slacks, loosens his tie, runs his fingers through his hair, and sighs in exhaustion.

"hey."

"have you eaten dinner yet?" you start to ramble. " i can warm up dinner and we could maybe share a meal together?"

"we haven't spent much time together in a while so you know.. i was just thinking... we could do something small together?"

you continue to ramble about how you spent all evening trying a new recipe you saw on tiktok that really fascinated you.

but kuroo is not having it.

all he wants to do is just go to bed and forget the past couple shitty days he's had at work. today, especially, was stressful considering how nothing had gone his way and the higher ups just wouldn’t stop giving him a hard time.

he kept his frustration, tiredness, anger all bottled up for the past couple days and they were all about to boil out.

on top of that, your constant rambling isn't helping. you keep talking and talking and talking and his mind is beginning to get cloudy and his anger is about to boil over.

his voice rises and he finally speaks, "god y/n.. can you just shut the fuck up and stop being all up in my space? you're so fucking clingy just leave me alone."

oh.

you mouth shuts up mid sentence and you're looking down at your feet, too embarrassed to even look him in the eye after hearing his true feelings.

"sorry, i just wanted to spend some time and talk and relax with you..." your voice goes quiet. "you've been out really late for the past couple days so i was just hoping-"

however, kuroo's outburst isn't over yet. if anything, your little comment voicing your concerns seems to have make him a bit more upset.

"yeah, i've been out late because of how suffocating it is here at home with you. god, it's like you just can't take a fucking hint! just leave me the fuck alone!" he says and your eyes go a bit glassy.

"r-right," you say as you're turning around so he doesn't see the tears forming in your eyes. "sorry, i'll respect your wishes and give you your space."

seeing your hunched figure walking away brought him back to his senses.

what the fuck did i just say to them? oh my god.

"y/n wait i'm sorry-" he begins but is cut off.

"kuroo, i think you've said enough tonight."

the sound of his last name coming out of your mouth leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and he knows he's fucked up immensely. the door to the bedroom closes, indicating that you're clocking out for the night and you can't deal with this conversation any bit longer.

kuroo sits himself on the couch with his head in his hands, shaking his head.

what the hell did i just say to them? it's not even their fault... i just... how the hell do i make it up to them?

kuroo walks to the door and places three subtle knocks on the door, begging for permission to enter. he's greeted with no acknowledgement or response.

he turns the knob and to his surprise it opens. there, he sees you fast alseep in your comforter in a fetal-like position. he goes into the closet, changes into his pajamas, and immediately climbs into bed.

he brings you close to his side of the bed, specifically putting your head on his chest. he begins to stroke your hair and places gentle kisses on your head, mumbling soft "i'm sorry's" and "i love you's."

he's praying to whatever deity out there that this would blow over by tomorrow morning or something.

but kuroo wakes up the next morning to his worst nightmare: you're not in bed with him. he feels his blood run cold and he's running the worst case scenarios in his head.

he rushes out of the bedroom to see that you're nowhere in the apartment. he sees a bright colored post-it note stuck on to the fridge with a note scribbled in your handwriting.

"i'm staying at a friend's house for the next couple of days. i just need time to think for a bit. there's some leftovers from last night in the fridge so make sure you eat those.

love u always, y/n"

kuroo's hands shake as he's holding your post-it note.

of course, they'd leave. i treated them like shit and hurt them so badly of course they want to leave. but even after everything, they still love me… i don’t deserve them.

kuroo begins to spiral and the next couple of days aren't any easy for him.

every attempt at texting or calling you has lead to no response. he goes to sleep without you next to him, holding back tears every time. every morning without fail, he pats the vacancy next to him in hopes that you'll be there but to his demise, every time, you're not. work feels even more lethargic than usual. before, he used to look forward to coming home to you but now you're not even at home so what's the point in even trying. counting down the hours until he gets to leave his cubicle has become futile.

i just really want them back. please come back home.

but when he comes home from a pain achingly long day of work, he doesn't find you and his mood plummets even more.

that is until one day, kuroo is able to leave work early where he comes home and hears the familiar noise of the coffee maker brewing. his eyes shoot up from his slacks to look over at the kitchen where he sees you in all your beauty, fidgeting with the knobs on the coffee machine. your eyes both lock and you immediately look away.

kuroo thought you were gone for good. and the fact that you were only a couple feet away from him made his heart swell and his eyes water. there's so much to say but his not a single word is escaping his mouth.

"you want some coffee? i just started a new batch," you finally say to fill up the silence of the room.

he gulps, "sure yeah."

you grab a coffee cup and pour him a fresh cup of coffee and slide it to him across the kitchen counter, avoiding getting too close to him.

too nervous to even touch his drink, he begins to address the elephant in the room, "y/n, i'm so sorry for what i said that night. i had no right to speak to you in the manner."

"it's okay," you say in a curt manner. "i get it."

he shakes his head and tries to get closer to you to convey his feelings but is stopped when he sees you take a step back. his heart cracks.

"no it's not okay sweetheart. i've been so busy with work and i just got super overwhelmed with everything and-"

"kuroo, you know you don't have to make any excuses right?" you interrupt his train of thought.

he's confused now. "excuses? y/n what are you even talking about- "

"just end it with me already... i know you want to," you say, looking down at the fresh cup of coffee in your hands. "you made that very clear."

his world freezes.

the world becomes completely silent.

his mouth is slightly open, caught off guard. he doesn't know what to say.

however, you interpret his silence as him putting down the excuses finally and admitting that he doesn't want to put effort into this relationship with you anymore.

hell, he doesn’t even want this relationship with you anymore.

"right, if you won't i will so it's easier for the both of us. i think we should-"

"don't you dare finish that fucking sentence," he moves close to you all of a sudden and his familiar lingering cheap cologne smell takes up your senses. the gears begin to click in his head before you can respond to him.

kuroo's arms envelop you in his embrace. "i want you. only you. i'm sorry i made you think otherwise."

the tears you've been holding back for the past couple minutes standing in front of him overflow and you feel like the world is about to end.

you push kuroo off you slightly. "i know you've been busy with work and i just wanted to spend some time with you. i never meant to come off as clingy but clearly you thought so so-"

"i'm just a complete douche,” he interrupts. “you were trying to help me out and make me feel better and i was so caught up with work, i couldn't appreciate that."

"i never want to ever make you feel that way again. you never deserved to hear any of that from me and everything i said couldn't be far from the truth. your presence has never been a bother and if anything, coming home to you is the best part of my day.”

“i shouldn't have let my emotions get the best of me and i'm so sorry that it did and that i hurt you in the process. i hate that i’m the reason behind your tears and i’ll do everything to make it up to you to show you how much i love you."

the tears from your eyes continue to flow and he delicately wipes every single one from your eyes kissing your cheek every time without fail.

"are you sure you don’t find me suffocating? you said that you hated being home with me though so i just thought-" you start to say.

"i will spend my entire life reassuring you that it isn’t true. i promise you are never suffocating me and your presence never fails to make me feel better on a shitty day. i will do anything to regain your trust and faith in me,” he adamantly speaks with his hands in yours.

hearing his determined resolve, the tears flow even more.

"i love you so much, tetsu."

"i love you too baby," he smiles and delicately kisses your lips. "now let's go out. how do you feel about going out for dinner? i’ve got a lot of making up to you to do."

"i'll never say no to that."

bokuto koutaro

the msby jackals lost 2-0 sets and the entire team was taking the loss hard but no one as hard as bokuto.

"bokuto-san, what do you think went wrong today's game?" an interviewer asks with his notepad out, scribbling notes.

"er, uh, well, today was just a rough day and i had a tough time keeping up with the opponent's plays today... it just was not a good day."

"i have one more question," the interviewer asks.

"go ahead," he gruffs out.

"you are known for your infamous line shots especially during deciding moments of the game. you missed multiple of these shots during today's game. were you distracted during this game? is it because of your new relationship status or were-"

bokuto is now riled up. who the hell does this interviewer think he is to corner me and bring in my personal life???

"i'm leaving, fuck this shit," he spits out, trying his best to maintain his composure.

in frustration, bokuto storms out of the press conference room, slamming the double doors, heading towards the locker room to grab his stuff but is stopped by you, running after him.

"kou! wait up!" you say from a distance and he stops in his tracks to look at you. he's still internally raging from the provocative behavior of that interviewer and he feels like he just might lose it.

"what do you want," he says in an aggressive manner that catches you off guard.

you’re aware of the recent loss of the msby jackals. you know that's probably taking a toll on his confidence as a player so you're trying to be as supportive as you can.

"you wanna come back to my place? i was thinking we could watch that one disney movie you like and we could bake something together too? what do you think?"

"why do you always want to fucking hang out?" he says in the lowest tone of voice you've ever heard from him.

it sends shivers down your spine.

"huh?" you're just confused at this point.

"why are you so fucking clingy all the time? it's always 'kou come over!' or 'kou let's watch a movie!' or 'kou let's take a nap together!' like don't you fucking get that i have a genuine career that i'm working really hard to be successful in?"

so that's what he thinks of me.

"i know you want to be a pro volleyball player and i want to support you the entire way. i was just trying to be there for you and help you relax..." you trail. "i get today was really rough for you.."

"that's the thing you don't get it, y/n!" he says exasperatedly. "if you did want to be supportive for me and my career, then you would stop being so all up on me and give my space!"

he walks into the locker room, slamming the door, shaking you up.

in defeat, you begin to leave the stadium with tears brimming your eyes. as you get in your car, you put your head on the steering wheel and suddenly, the tears start to stream out.

"i'll give him his space. i'll just stop everything. i'm nothing of importance to him or his life so it's best if i just stop." you convince yourself.

bokuto, on the other hand, is in the locker room, holding back tears of frustration as he punched one of the lockers.

fuck, what am i even doing right now...

"bokuto-san! let's head out for the night," shoyo's voice can be heard before he can be seen in the locker room. "we're gonna go get drinks and dinner at that new barbecue place that opened up."

he looks up from the bench and smiles at shoyo along with the rest of his teammates that are nodding along in support.

"yeah, sure. fine with me," kou responds with a small smile on his face.

as bokuto and the rest of the jackals are out and about, he keeps looking at his phone in hopes of getting a message or something from you but you're completely radio silent after the spat between the two of you.

he knows you both had a disagreement but he thought you knew that he was just frustrated and upset with the game. he didn't think it was a reason to just go silent on him.

he sends a text to test the waters.

kou <3: babe, we're good right?

he puts his phone down and engages back in the dinner with the rest of the jackals.

an hour has passed yet still no response. it's starting to make him fidgety so he decides to spam you.

kou <3: hello?

kou <3: baby wya???

kou <3: where is the loml at :((

kou <3: BABYYYYYYY

kou <3: POOKIE PLS TXT ME BACK :(((

y/n is typing...

y/n: sry i was getting ready for bed.

you sounded distant. you clearly were upset but was it still about the argument? c'mon you knew he didn't mean what he said... right?

kou <3: ITS OKAY BABY! can i come over? i wanna spend the night with u :,)

kou <3: i miss you

y/n: maybe not tonight... i think it's best if we're by ourselves for a bit

bokuto's hair significantly drooped down, seeing as how he got rejected to hang out with you for the night.

as bokuto heads over to his apartment for the night, he stares at the bedroom ceiling with his thoughts. he misses laying next to his baby. that's when he starts to replay everything that went down between the two of you.

he genuinely can't figure out what went wrong.

he prays that this whole thing will just blow over by tomorrow because he misses you incredibly and just wants to spend time with you.

unfortunately to his demise, you kept shutting down all of kou's efforts to come over. you refused to pick up his calls, resorting to half assed texts.

this whole argument was festering and bokuto had to fix it immediately.

you, however, want nothing more than to spend time with your boyfriend but his words kept running through your mind on loop. anytime you would be sitting alone with yourself, his words kept playing themselves on loop in your brain, making you overthink the post couple months you’ve spent together.

has he always thought of me as clingy? have i always been a bother to him? have i always been super annoying in his eyes?

that was until you heard a knock on the door.

you open the door and see kou standing there in a hoodie and a pair of khakis with a large bouquet of assorted flowers in his hands. his eyes lock with yours while yours widen in surprise.

"k-kou! what are you doing here?" you say in surprise.

"what, i can't see my partnet now?" he retorts lightheartedly. "let me in."

too stunned to even reject him, your hand inherently finds its way to the knob, widening the door so bokuto can fit through into your apartment.

he tries to hand you the flowers but you stand there, hands refusing to move from their sides. "c'mon babe, i got them for you! do you not like them? man, i knew i should've gotten the roses instead."

"no no! thank you so much kou.. i'm just surprised that you even got this for me..." you trail off looking away from him.

he sets the flowers on the kitchen counter and tilts his head in confusion. "what do you mean, y/n?"

"listen, i know you don't really like spending time with me and that you feel obligated to but honestly, we really don't have to hang out or anything like that," you begin to say. "i know i can be a lot sometimes and i'm really working on trying to give you space."

that's when it all clicks in his head for him.

"baby, is this about what i said that day in the gym?" he questions.

you turn away, refusing to even look him in the eye because you know the moment your eyes lock with his, the tears will start streaming down your face.

"baby, no, please," he goes over to you to give you the warmest yet tightest hug possible. "i’m also a very clingy person so i should've known how much my words must have hurt you. i've been so stupid to not see how badly my words must have impacted you, my love. i'm so so sorry for saying and acting the way i did. it's unexcusable."

"no kou it's fine i just-" you say but are interrupted midsentence.

"no, y/n it's not," he says, tears brimming his eyes ever since coming to terms with how hurt you must've been feeling this entire time. "i'll do anything to get your forgiveness and for us to just... be close again. i'll do anything, i mean it."

tears are streaming down both your faces and you can't help but form a wobbly smile on your lips. "pinky promise?"

"pinky promise," kou says as he locks pinkies with you and kisses the top of your head. "now let's cuddle because i've missed being near the love of my life."

3K notes · View notes

urfavblond1e · 11 months ago

Text

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐭 ♡︎

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ৹ you and megumi have been dating for nine months. you're happy. he's happy. you're perfect for each other. the only issue? he craves affection and he's not sure how to ask for it.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ৹ megumi x fem!reader, shy megumi, fluff, very very slight angst, cuddling, yuji and nobara mention (they share one braincell).

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ৹ 1.4k

𝐚/𝐧 ৹ sorry I haven't written in a while, i'm currently on vacation and haven't been writing. this was in my drafts so I figured I'd post it. I'll be back soon with some more. I hope you enjoy! hearts divider by @/s-h-o-w-y

You and Megumi had been dating for quite a while now. Just two weeks ago, you had your nine-month anniversary together and you were the happiest you had ever been.

The relationship was very low-key. PDA was almost non-existent—the most he’d ever do in public was hold your hand and even then, he kept his hands to himself most days.

Affection was present in your relationship but you mostly had to ask for it. He’d give it to you without a second thought but he rarely initiated any form of affection besides a few hugs or kisses here and there.

To be honest—it bothered you at first as you believed it was something about you that made him not want to be affectionate but then you realized it was just hard for him to show physical affection because he never really knew how. He was an amazing boyfriend—he just had some struggles.

You were fine with this now and it didn’t bother you, knowing that he still loved you very much.

But what you didn’t know was how badly this affected Megumi. His fear of initiating physical affection was eating him alive from the inside out.

Megumi had a lot of emotions—believe it or not—but he didn’t know how to handle all of it so he just shoved it all down where nobody could find it. He never learned how to deal with any of it so it seemed like the only quick solution.

His mother passed away at a young age and affection or even emotion (besides anger, disappointment, or his father being unamused) was not common from his father and stepmother. Growing up he got the occasional pat on the head or a hug from Gojo and his older sister Tsumiki tried her best to show her love for him when she could—but that had ended all too soon.

He would never admit it but he absolutely craved affection—specifically from you. The poor boy was so touch-starved. His heart soared whenever you asked for a hug or to lay down together. And it tore away at his heart how badly he wanted to ask you for love but for some reason, he was scared to do so.

But one thing about Megumi was that he was persistent and he was going to get through this and overcome his anxiety one way or another. After all, you were already his girlfriend. What could possibly go wrong?

Right now, you were on a walk with him, Nobara, and Yuji. Shoko had insisted on the four of you going out and getting some sun and none of you were about to argue with the intimidating school doctor so you all quickly got out there.

You walked alongside Megumi while Nobara and Yuji goofed off a couple of feet ahead of the two of you, not paying attention to either of you at all. Megumi quietly walked with a stoic expression, keeping his hands in his pockets. He had barely said anything but that’s because his mind was racing.

You didn’t mind it at all as long as you were with him. Megumi’s gaze kept flickering down to your hand, which was at your side as you walked. He wanted to just reach down and grab your hand tightly but something stopped him. Why? He had no idea.

You were his girlfriend, he had held your hand before and nothing happened. So why would it be any different now? Anxiety over simple things never made anyone think sensible thoughts. But it was enough to make him nervous to simply reach out and grab your hand.

And the worst part? You had no idea. You simply kept walking with a big smile on your face as the two of you walked together.

Before he could stop himself, he just took his hand out of his pocket and grabbed your hand rather abruptly, not saying a single thing as if trying to ignore what just happened.

You were a little stunned—just because it was so sudden. And he had just grabbed your hand rather than lacing his fingers together with yours or something like that so you looked at him with a little bit of confusion. “Megumi?” You asked.

Noticing your eyes on him, he just avoided eye contact, feeling his cheeks heat up for some reason. All he was doing was holding your hand! Well, more like gripping it at this point.

“You don’t have to grip my hand like that, I’m not going anywhere.” You chuckled, trying to make him loosen up a bit so you could intertwine your fingers with his. Really, you were just glad that he was holding your hand and had done it himself.

Megumi didn’t reply but his grip loosened up so you could intertwine your fingers with his, properly holding hands now. You gave his hand a little squeeze and a reassuring smile. To be honest, it was really cute to see him like this but you weren’t going to say anything about it and just decided to leave it as it was.

Holding hands—it was such a simple thing but Megumi’s heart felt like it was racing. He was proud of himself for initiating things but boy was his heart pounding.

But feeling his skin against yours was so nice; feeling the warmth of your hand against his, it was so comforting. Goodness, he loved you so much. He just didn’t know how to say it sometimes.

The two of you held hands until you got back to the school. Nobara and Yuji rushed inside, not wanting to be out in the heat anymore while you and Megumi took your time getting inside. Sometimes you believed Nobara and Yuji shared one brain cell between each other—and they probably did, to be honest.

Megumi’s hand fell from yours when you got inside, which was okay, you were going to sit down to cool off anyway.

You made your way inside and to one of the rooms, walking over to one of the couches. Thankfully you had nothing else going on for the rest of the day so you could just practically pass out on the couch for a little while.

Before you sat down, you looked at Megumi, who was just standing there looking at you. “You okay, sweetheart?” You asked, slightly confused. He had been acting odd all day and it confused you. What was going on?

Again, no reply. Instead, you felt his hands suddenly grab your waist and pull you close to him, his arms enveloping you in a big hug. You stood there stunned for a moment before wrapping your arms around him tightly. It was clear that he really needed this hug.

“Megumi—,” You spoke but he cut you off.

“Don’t say anything.” He said softly, “Just don’t say anything.” He breathed out, not wanting to be asked any questions right now. All he wanted to do was hold you.

With you still in his arms, he moved and sat down on the couch, putting you on his lap and burying his face into the crook of your neck. It was so comforting, so nice. He just wanted to stay like this forever, in the safety and comfort of your arms.

You were still stunned that he was doing this but you didn’t question a thing, continuing to keep your arms locked tightly around him. Eventually, your hand made its way up to his scalp, gently raking your nails through his hair. You could feel him practically melt into your touch and you let out a little chuckle.

“Cute,” You mumbled, your voice could barely be heard.

Megumi let out a little huff and just kept his arms around you, his cheeks warm from embarrassment.

You weren’t sure how long you two were like that and eventually, you had somehow shifted to where the both of you were laying down, still holding each other in your arms. Megumi had practically fallen asleep, comfortably cuddled up right in your arms.

And he would’ve fallen asleep—had Yuji not walked into the room and seen the two of you lying together on the couch. Poor, innocent Yuji who could physically never bring himself to be quiet. “Ooh, Fushiguro! Getting comfortable with [name] there huh?” He said lightheartedly, thinking nothing of it. He really was just teasing.

Within an instant, Megumi was sitting up with an unamused expression, reaching to grab the nearest thing he could, his face pink and flushed “Shut up!”

Yuji was out of that room within seconds, just barely dodging the magazine Megumi had thrown at him.

1K notes · View notes

confused-pyramid · 1 year ago

Text

Breaking Point

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...

word count: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking

a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!

You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.

Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.

"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."

You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."

He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."

The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.

He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.

"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."

He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.

A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."

He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.

You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.

***

He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.

Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.

"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."

You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."

Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.

"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.

You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."

You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.

He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"

You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.

"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."

Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."

You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."

You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.

You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.

He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.

"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."

He doesn't move.

It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.

Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."

Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.

After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.

Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.

"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."

"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.

You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.

"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"

Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.

Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.

You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."

He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."

You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."

"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.

"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"

His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."

You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."

You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.

***

You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.

He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.

His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.

You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-

The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.

People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.

Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.

When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.

***

You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.

You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.

There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."

"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."

He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.

"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.

Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.

"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.

He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."

"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."

"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."

That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."

"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."

His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"

You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."

His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.

Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.

If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.

Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.

Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.

"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."

It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.

By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.

"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."

He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.

His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.

His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.

He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.

You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."

Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.

He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.

The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.

He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.

He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.

You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.

Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.

Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.

His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.

After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.

You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.

"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."

"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."

You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.

You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson #challengers #challengers smut #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x fem!reader #challengers fanfiction #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson x you

3K notes · View notes

ghsface · 9 months ago

Text

under the table - chris sturniolo

Sumary: You and Chris are "friends with benefits" and you decide to tease him a little on his Twitch live stream.

Warnings: smut +18, orgasm denial, teasing, sexual tension, explicit content, use of fingers, public sex (indirectly through the stream), unprotected sex (don't do it), oral m receiving, dom!chris, no use of y/n.

Word count: idk

A/n: So this is in my drafts for like 2 weeks now, I haven't checked it so I apologize if it has mistakes or things that don't make sense or idk, this is also my first time writing something about Chris 🖤

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

The night was dark, and the glow of the computer screen dimly illuminated the room. Chris was immersed in his Twitch stream, chatting with his followers, laughing at the jokes flying through the chat, and you were there, watching from the couch across the room. The routine wasn’t new to you; you’d spent more than one night accompanying him during his streams, knowing that, eventually, the tension between you would boil over somehow.

It was a strange dynamic, the two of you. “Friends” with benefits. If that meant anything. Because even though you’d never put a label on it, the intensity you shared when you were together made it clear that this wasn’t just a game for either of you. The spark was there, always lit, waiting for the perfect moment to explode.

That night, something felt different. You could see it in the way he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, like he was trying to stay focused on the stream but his mind was already miles away, lost in you. You smiled to yourself, letting a naughty idea begin to form in your mind.

Every little gesture you had made, every subtle tease, had led up to this moment. As you slid under the table, your heart began to beat faster. Chris was talking to the chat, seemingly oblivious, but the way his body was reacting told you he was more than aware of what you were about to do.

From your position, you could see his legs tense as you settled between them. You had done this before, but this time, the charge in the air was different, more intense. You started slowly, letting your hands trail up his thighs, enjoying the way his body responded with small spasms under your touch. His words in the stream faltered for a second, barely noticeable, but enough to make you smile. He was losing control and you hadn’t even really started.

Your fingers brushed the edge of his belt, and you felt him inhale deeply. He kept talking to the chat, answering questions, but each word was more strained than the last. He couldn't keep his focus. You were there, right where you knew you could make everything fall apart.

With one swift movement, you unbuckled his belt, causing him to fidget in his chair. You could hear his breathing quicken as your fingers fiddled with the button of his pants, and when you finally released him, a small moan escaped his lips, almost imperceptible, but enough to make you feel the power you held at that moment.

You leaned forward, your lips brushing the warm skin you had just uncovered, and you felt his entire body shudder under your touch. His hand rested on the table, desperately searching for something to hold onto as he tried to maintain his composure in front of his audience, but you had already caught him.

Chris tried to keep the conversation flowing, but his voice broke when you lowered your lips further, kissing every inch of his exposed skin with deliberate, teasing slowness. It was a game to you, one you were determined to win. Every second that passed, you brought him closer to his edge, and the thought that at any moment he could lose control turned you on.

Finally, you let your lips envelop him completely, and in that instant, you heard him bite back a growl, his hand turning into a fist on the table. The chat kept moving, but Chris could barely keep up the answers, the words coming out of his mouth in fits and starts, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“Uh, yeah, guys, uh... one second...” His voice was a rough whisper, and you could feel his body trembling under your touch.

You pushed on, letting yourself be carried away by the feeling of having him at the mercy of your every move. The sound of his breathing, ragged and heavy, echoed in your ears, and you knew he couldn’t hold on much longer. Every time your lips moved faster, his control crumbled a little more.

His legs trembled slightly, and you could hear him struggling to stay in the moment, responding to his audience as if nothing was happening under the table. But you knew he was on the verge of giving in, and that turned you on even more.

Finally, his hand dipped under the table, his fingers tangling in your hair with palpable desperation. He was trying to guide you, but it was clear he had lost the control he was trying so hard to maintain. His voice, still trying to keep the thread of the stream, was barely a broken whisper.

“I’m sorry, guys… I have to… cut it here,” he said, forcing the words out between labored breaths, and without waiting for a response, he abruptly cut the stream.

Before you could react, Chris grabbed you by the arms, yanking you up and making you face him. His eyes were dark with desire, his breathing uneven, and you knew at that moment that he had lost all patience.

“You…” he began, his voice hoarse. “You have no idea what you just started.”

And then, his lips fell on yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

Chris kissed you with an intensity that made everything in your body ignite immediately. His lips were firm, hungry, as if he were claiming something he had been suppressing all this time, and you melted under his touch. He wrapped a firm arm around your waist, drawing you closer to his body, while his hands slid with palpable urgency down your back, gripping you, pulling you as if he needed you even closer.

His lips left yours only to move down to your neck, biting gently, then licking the marks he left. You were lost in the feeling of his mouth, of his hot breath against your skin. Each touch was precise, purposeful, with that perfect mix of desire and dominance. It made you feel like you had provoked him in just the right way, and now, he was in complete control.

“You have no idea what you provoke, do you?” he murmured against your skin, his voice deep and heavy with desire.

You felt a shiver run through your body as his hands moved down to your hips, sliding your skirt up with a skill that made you wonder how many times he’d imagined this moment. The fabric lifted with ease, exposing more of you to his touch, and his fingers brushed against your bare skin, drawing a small moan from you that you couldn’t hold back.

“Don’t stop,” you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible, but clear enough for him to understand.

Chris smiled, a dark, dangerous smile, before pushing you towards the table behind you. Your hips bumped against the edge, and he took advantage of the opportunity, forcefully lifting you up to sit on the cold surface. The contrast between the wood and the heat of his body was electrifying. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and completely at his mercy, but that only made you want him even more.

He leaned over you, his hands sliding up your thighs, parting them to better accommodate himself between them. His lips met yours again, more aggressive this time, as if he wanted to make it clear that there was no turning back. The kiss was intense, overflowing with need and urgency, while his fingers continued to move up the inside of your thighs, exploring every inch of your skin, getting dangerously close to where you needed him the most.

“You like to play, don’t you?” he whispered against your lips, biting lightly on your bottom lip before letting go. His eyes locked with yours, dark, lust-laden.

You didn’t respond with words. Instead, you clung to his shirt, pulling him towards you, wanting to feel more, needing him closer. Your hands slid under his shirt, exploring the warm skin of his abdomen as he let out a growl of approval. You knew you were driving him crazy, and that feeling of power made you even more aroused.

Finally, one of his fingers gently brushed against your underwear, and you couldn’t help but arch your back at the contact. Chris noticed it, and a cocky smirk crossed his face.

“You’re so fucking ready for me,” he murmured, his finger tracing a slow but determined path over the fabric. You could feel yourself throbbing in anticipation, and he knew it. He knew exactly how to make you want him more with each passing second.

Suddenly, without warning, he slid your panties aside, revealing what he’d been teasing. His fingers played at the edge, slowly caressing you, making you moan softly.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, his voice low, almost teasing as his fingers continued their slow tracing, tracing light circles that drove you crazy.

You nodded, unable to articulate words at the moment. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, and you felt your body react to his every move, begging for more.

He finally decided to give you what you wanted. His finger slid inside you with an ease that made you gasp immediately, your hands gripping his shirt tighter. Chris watched you closely, enjoying your every reaction as he moved his fingers with a mastery he could only have acquired after so many times imagining it.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he growled, and his voice was a deep bass that resonated in your chest, making your breathing even more erratic.

Your hips began to move against his hand instinctively, seeking more, wanting more of him. And he gave it to you. He added a second finger, increasing the pace, and when his thumb began to draw circles on the exact spot, your entire body tensed.

“Chris…” you moaned, feeling the pressure inside you rapidly increasing.

He smiled against your neck, gently biting your skin before whispering,

“You’re not going to cum yet. Not until I tell you to.”

His commanding tone only made you want him more.

Your hips bucked instinctively, seeking more than he was giving you, but Chris remained in absolute control. Every time you felt yourself on the edge, he slowed his movements, teasing you, reveling in the frustration that was reflected on your face. It was a game to him, one where you both knew he was in control, and you reveled in the momentary submission.

“Fuck, Chris…” you gasped, your nails digging into his back as you struggled to keep the balance between the pleasure and the need that consumed you.

He let out a soft, dark chuckle, still moving inside you. His fingers kept a rhythm that drove you crazy, slow enough to keep you on the edge, but not letting you fall completely. Desire burned through you, and every time you tried to move to seek more friction, he stopped you with a firm grip on your hip.

“I told you that you’re not going to cum yet,” he whispered close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin, and the authoritative tone in his voice made a shiver run through you.

You knew he was enjoying seeing you like this, vulnerable, completely at his mercy. And the truth was that you were enjoying it too, even though you had a hard time admitting it. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moans that escaped your throat, but it was impossible. The way he touched you, how his fingers knew exactly where to apply pressure, made your mind cloud with desire.

Chris, still with his hand occupied, moved his other hand up your back, lifting your shirt as his lips moved down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses and small bites that made every fiber of your being ignite. You could feel how he was on edge too, his body tensing against yours, but he still held back, drawing out the moment, maintaining absolute control.

Your breaths were ragged, ragged, and when Chris added a third finger inside you, you felt like your entire body was falling apart. The pleasure was unbearable, consuming you from within, and you knew you couldn't hold out much longer. Your hips moved frantically against his hand, seeking that climax he kept denying you.

“Please…” you whispered, barely audible, and that plea was all he needed to hear.

With one swift movement, Chris pulled his fingers out of you, causing you to let out a frustrated moan. Before you could protest, he grabbed you by the hips and lifted you off the table, easily turning you so that you were facing away from him, your hands flat on the cool surface.

“You wanted to play, didn’t you?” he murmured behind you, his voice husky and heavy with desire. You could feel the heat of his body close to yours, his breathing heavy against your neck.

You nodded, unable to formulate coherent words at the moment. Your legs trembled slightly, and the emptiness you felt between your legs was almost painful. You needed him inside you, more than ever.

Without further warning, Chris slid your panties down, leaving you completely exposed. The sound of his clothes rustling as he undid his own pants only heightened the anticipation, and when you finally felt him line up with you, an involuntary moan escaped your lips.

Chris didn’t give you time to prepare. He sank into you in one movement, deep, filling you completely. The air left your lungs, and you gripped the edges of the table as your hips bucked against his. The pleasure was overwhelming, each thrust sending waves of heat throughout your body, making you shiver.

“Fuck…” he growled through gritted teeth, his voice deeper than you’d ever heard him before as he picked up the pace, his hands firm on your hips, guiding every movement.

Every time he moved inside you, you felt like you were being pushed to the edge, and this time, there was no turning back. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, along with his heavy breaths and your uncontrolled moans. The tension that had been building up the entire time finally exploded, and you let yourself go in the moment, lost in the feeling of having him so deep inside you.

Chris leaned forward, his lips finding the back of your neck as his hands roamed your body, exploring every curve, every corner. His fingers slid up to your clit, beginning to rub it with a precision that had you arching your back immediately.

“Now,” he murmured in your ear, his voice husky, “now you can cum.”

It was all you needed. Your body tensed completely, the climax hitting you with a force that nearly knocked you off your feet. You screamed his name as waves of pleasure rolled through you, making you shiver under his control. Chris kept moving inside you, prolonging each second, bringing you to a point of ecstasy you had never experienced before.

Finally, with a deep growl, he reached his limit as well, spilling himself inside you as his body shook. His hands still gripped your hips, his fingers leaving marks on your skin, as if he didn't want to ever let go.

You both stood there, breathing heavily, sweaty and completely exhausted.

The air in the room was heavy, thick with the echo of what had just happened. Chris still didn't let go of you, his hands firmly planted on your hips as his fingers traced soft circles on your skin, an absolute contrast to the intensity of the moment before. Your breathing was ragged, and you felt weak, leaning against the table as your body shook slightly with the last waves of pleasure running through your legs.

Chris leaned forward, his chest warm against your back, and his lips found your neck once more, this time with a softness that contrasted with everything that had just happened. His kisses were slow, deliberate, as if he were making sure you were okay. You shivered at the touch of his skin, but this time not from the urgency of desire, but from the warmth he radiated.

“Are you okay?” he murmured close to your ear, his voice now much softer, almost a whisper.

You nodded slowly, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder. His eyes were still dark, but there was something different in them, something more tender, as if a part of him was regaining the control he had lost in the passion of the moment.

“I’m okay…” you whispered, a tired smile appearing on your lips.

Chris smiled back, that mischievous smile that always managed to make you feel weak, but this time there was a warmth to it, something beyond pure desire. He pulled away slowly, his hands leaving your hips to help you up. When you turned to face him, your legs trembled slightly, and he didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you to steady you.

“You went crazy under the desk,” he said mockingly, his smile widening as he helped you sit on the edge of the table.

You laughed softly, running a hand through your hair as you tried to regain your composure. “You don’t seem to have had it so bad…”

Chris leaned into you, his nose brushing yours, and for a second, the world around you seemed to fade away. He kissed you again, but this time there was no urgency, no overwhelming hunger. Just a soft, sweet kiss that made your heart beat faster, but for very different reasons than before.

When he pulled away, he kept his hands on your thighs, caressing them gently as you both remained silent for a moment, enjoying the closeness. The sexual tension that had filled the air had dissipated, leaving a calmer feeling, though still charged with something deeper.

“You know the chat probably noticed, right?” he said, breaking the silence, but with a mischievous smile on his face.

You blushed immediately, remembering what you had done while he was live, and you looked at him with narrowed eyes, feigning indignation.

“Well, you were the one who couldn’t keep control,” you replied, trying to keep your voice calm, though your face betrayed your embarrassment.

Chris laughed, a low, husky sound that made you shudder again. “Me? The one who couldn’t keep control?” he repeated, his hands squeezing your thighs lightly, bringing a smile to your lips. You’re a tease, and you know it.

You stared at him, biting your bottom lip as you leaned into him. “And you seem to love it, don’t you?”

Chris looked at you with those intense eyes that always managed to make your heart race. “I love it more than I should.”

The atmosphere softened a little, though you knew the spark between you would never completely go away. The “friends with benefits” relationship you had built was dangerous, intense, but there was also a connection that went beyond the physical. It was clear that what you had wasn’t simply a game of teasing; there was something deeper that you both avoided openly acknowledging.

“What’s going to happen after this?” you asked in a whisper, almost as if you feared the answer.

Chris watched you silently for a moment, and you could see in his eyes that he was thinking the same thing too. It wasn’t just a question of what had happened today, but what this meant for you in the future. But instead of giving you a direct answer, he simply smiled and leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted, his voice calm, but laden with something you couldn’t quite decipher. “But I don’t want to think about that right now. I just want to enjoy this moment.”

And with those words, he hugged you tighter, as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t walk away. At that moment, you decided to do the same. Not to think about what it meant, or the future, or the complications. Just to enjoy what you were experiencing together.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ✮

#chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo

640 notes · View notes

jojo-schmo · 3 months ago

Text

✿ Forgotten Land Roleswap AU ✿

✦ 3rd Anniversary ✦

I was hoping to get this Light Novel cover redraw finished by today, but I haven't been feeling well and ran out of time- but I still wanted to at least share this WIP and muse on how much things have grown during these three years, and how much this project has meant to me so far.

April 12, 2022 was the day I created posted the first doodles that would, unbeknownst to me at the time, germinate the idea that would transform into a passion project spanning multiple years. I had just finished Kirby and the Forgotten Land's story and slowly getting back into the Kirby fandom space for the first time in years. It had been a long time since a game made me feel as wonderful as Forgotten Land did. I've loved Bandana Waddle Dee since I first played Return to Dreamland on the Wii when I was a kid, and wished he had more opportunities to shine outside of directly supporting Kirby in the game. I also love "What If" and "Roleswap" AUs, so I considered what would happen if I swapped Bandana Dee and King Dedede's role in the game.

The posts didn't really get much traction at first, which was fine. But I kept going back to the idea after a few days and thinking about how to push it further. Instead of just swapping Bandee and Dedede, what if Dedede was Player 1 to increase the stakes of rescuing the kidnapped Waddle Dees? Dedede wouldn't have access to Mouthful Mode, so how would the gameplay work then? Instead of Kirby taking care of everything with his own Mouthful Mode, it could be more fun to have Meta Knight be Player 2 instead, and explore their teamwork dynamics and problem-solving methods together!

So I explored an alternative- Combo Mode! And developing and researching ideas for that lit a spark within me! I had to keep going after that!

Now I had to consider, if I'm already swapping around all the main characters, I'm starting to have an entirely new universe here! What's next to change up? For the heroes' companion, I felt like Elfilin wouldn't behave very differently in this AU than in canon, he would probably continue to be friendly and helpful and sweet. Which would be okay- but to make things more interesting for myself, what if I played around with the origin story of the missing pieces of Fecto Forgo and switched "Elfilis" and "Elfilin" around? That way there's new obstacles and possibilities there and maybe I can even surprise some people with the lore down the line!

Now I'd had my Dream Team shuffled around, a very different mysterious companion for them... And why stop there? Why not play with the Beast Council's roles too while I'm at it to make things even more interesting for myself to write?!

From the early days of this AU Project...

To my more recent work...

...Now here we are.

It'd been a long, long time since I enjoyed the creation process of anything for myself like this! I was coming out of some pretty hard times in the early 2020s, and in a lot of ways, this AU has been there alongside me during a years-long journey to get help for my mental health, to become more confident in who I am and what I can bring to the world around me, and to love myself. Now I'm the best version of myself I've ever been, and I can pour so much more into my art and writing, especially with this AU!! <3

AND MAN, does it feel good to see physical evidence of my art style's evolution side-by-side! Like comparing my first Light Novel cover redraw from 2022 with my current WIP!

Creating this AU has taught me so much about storytelling, the medium of comics, organization, and most of all, to enjoy the process and really push my personal limits in a positive way. I've met so many amazing people since starting this story, some of whom have inspired me in ways I never could've imagined. Some very key people have even helped me ponder different mediums to tell this story.... Some animatics... or maybe even more interactive storytelling...? I am slow cooking some fun ideas, dear reader....

This AU gave me the confidence to become more involved in the fandom space and find community among people who have taught me so much. I am so, so grateful for this project.

I know it's taken some time to get here. I still work full-time and now I'm pursuing a second bachelor's in hopes of a career change that will allow me more time to focus on creating someday. But for now, free time can be frustratingly limited for me. It's also taken this long because I've put a lot of thought into how to set up the metaphorical "dominos" in the forms of foreshadowing and world-building I want, to do my best to make the wait worth it for the future plot pay-offs and reveals I have planned!! I'm hoping to continue to pick up speed with updates as I increase my skill and solidify my master plan for this story... MUAHAHA....

I plan on seeing this project to the very very end, and I can't wait to continue this journey with you all. Especially with the announcement of Star-Crossed Worlds!!! I'm not too worried about it turning my AU lore upside-down quite yet since it's post-game content and my bigger lore drops are still a little bit away, so I have time to navigate that when it does drop :3

Thank you to everyone who has read, enjoyed, and supported this project in any way, whether it's a like, comment, reblog tag, dm, carrier pigeon, paper airplane- whatever!! <3 I love, appreciate, and am beyond grateful for every reader, supporter, and friend I've gained in the past three years!!

Cheers to a successful three years under my belt, and I look forward to the future!! By the end of this journey, I hope you will enjoy reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

🫧 Love, Jojo T. Schmo 🫧

★○★○★○★○★○★○★○★

♫ Laughing loud! Even if you're far apart, they're right by your side. Hearts full of love! Everyone is welcome to live in this new world. ♫

｡⋆｡˚ ʚïɞ ˚｡⋆｡

242 notes · View notes

thecowboyfiles · 30 days ago

Note

Uh hiii 😝 first time asking you something kinda nervous (jk I am NOT nervous at all)

Sooo how are you doing this nice day/night? I was wondering if you would do something with Bob Floyd! I am an absolute sucker for aftercare so maybe shit was getting real rough 😏 like reader had a rough day and was lowkey becoming super bratty and needed to be put in check and Bob obvi has no problems with that and then like the aftercare is super sweet and fluffy!

(Love your works btw- you have been feeding my obsession 😣) Also! If you need more info or anything just lmk!!

-> Hi I'm doing so good!! I'm feeling better than I have in MONTHS which you can probably tell by the amount that i've been writing in the last few days. Lol Thanks for the request! I'm so happy you're here 🥰 <-

You love Bob's friends, you really do, the daggers were becoming a real family and that made you - by extension - part of the family too. The thing was... you hadn't seen Bob in three weeks so when he said he wanted to spend the night out at the hard deck, you were more than a little disappointed and even a little annoyed. If Bob wanted a night out instead of a night in, fine, but you intended to have fun too.

By the time you got home, you knew what you were in for. The car ride home had been filled with so much tension that you almost choked on it. Even the quiet click of the door behind you made you tense up.

"You were quite the brat tonight, my love. Did you know that?" Bob asks, not stepping forward by standing tall with his back against the door.

Now, you turn around to face him. "Was I?" You ask, voice raised an octave and eyelashes batting. "That's not what I would call it."

"No?" Bob tries to frown but you can see the way his mouth twitches, he's trying to hold back a smirk. "What would you call it then, sweetheart? Bending over the bar like you kept doing, Your perfect ass on display for every single Navy man in there to ogle at. Then, just for good measure I assume, you refused to sit in your own seat and kept grinding that same perfect ass against me.”

"Well I had to get your attention somehow, Bobby." you explain, a slightly childish whine in your tone. "I haven't seen you in so long and you made me share you with all those flyboys tonight," you pout.

Bob hums like he's actually considering your argument, but he shakes his head anyway. “You know what happens to bratty little girls, don't you?"

Now it was your turn to smirk, not even trying to look innocent anymore. “They get spankings,” you bite at your lip.

“That’s right, now strip and get over my knee,” He doesn’t give you anymore direction but he moves now, to sit on the edge of your bed, still fully clothed. Bob wasn’t taking it easy on you this evening. The slaps to your bare ass came hard and fast. He didn’t stop until the skin was red and he was sure that you were crying. Sniffling and pathetic, tears dripping onto his khaki uniform.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” He asks, pausing in his punishment.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, i’ll be good, I promise.” You sniffle, hiccuping over your own breaths.

“Oh you’re saying all the right words, my love, but… I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson just yet.”

That’s how you ended up face down, ass up on your own bed, screaming and slobbering on your own pillow with your boyfriend driving into you so hard there was sure to be hip shaped bruises on your ass. Bob didn’t stop until you had cum at least three times and left your whole body trembling. Then, things started to calm.

Bob is gentle as he pulls out of you, more focused on your shaking limbs than the demands that was leaking out of your pulsing cunt. “You did so good, sweetheart, you’re such a good girl. I’m gonna go get a warm cloth to clean you up, but i’m gonna come right back. I’m not leaving you, i’m just going across the hall to the bathroom, okay?”

All you can manage is a soft grunt in response. In certain cases, Bobby would make you use your words, but tonight had been a lot, so he takes your grunt, rubbing his hand up and down your thigh before he leaves.

Just as he promised, Bob was back in a matter of seconds with a warm, wet cloth. He makes his way back to the bed, wiping down your sweaty skin as gently as he can. As soon as you’re clean, he climbs into bed and pulls you into him. “How are you doing, Love?”

You peel your eyes open, just enough to look at him. “I feel good,” you answer this time but your words are slightly slurred, “Was I a good girl?”

“Oh, you were the best, sweet girl, you’re always so good.” He takes a moment to run his fingers through your hair and kiss your forehead. “My perfect girl.”

-> I’m sorry if this wasn’t enough smut for you, i’m still pretty new to writing it and I wanted to focus on the aftercare. 😅 I hope you enjoyed! <-

147 notes · View notes

strwberri-milk · 2 months ago

Note

Hello!! If it's okay to ask for characters from different media (and if you still do genshin lol) I was wondering if I could request headcanons for Diluc and Sylus about sharing a bed with him for the first time.

I gotta be honest, I have no idea about the story of lads but you made me love these guys from the way you write about them ♡

:D im glad you like my perception of the lads guys so much you love them without playing the game LMAO im very flattered <3

Diluc is a little shy and awkward about it. You can't tell because he has a killer poker face but his hands are a little clammy and he won't stop touching his hair for some reason. He combs it over once, then twice, than another time when he thinks you aren't looking. He's just trying to keep himself busy, not sure if he's really ready for this.

You don't notice until he's actively trying to find things to do to avoid going to bed at the same time as you. Again, it's not obvious but when you watch him pull out a letter opener just to re-open a contract he already signed earlier in the day you figure out what's happening.

You tell him it's fine if he's a little nervous about sharing a bed with you. Hell, you know you're a little nervous about it as well. But that doesn't mean that you have to hide it from him. The two of you decide to take things even slower, just chatting and getting into bed together. The added distraction makes it easy but Diluc also isn't too sure about grabbing for you. He decides instead to just lay near you, a respectable distance between the two of you until the middle of the night. His body instinctively looks for yours, pulling you into his arms and keeping you there for the rest of the night.

Sylus doesn't tend to sleep the same time you do so you also will have to coordinate actually going to sleep with him. If you either manage to "schedule" going to bed together or manage to catch him during one of the rare times where he's going to sleep at the same time as you, he'll simply open his arms up to you.

He doesn't say anything. The invitation is clear even if you've never spoken about it with him before. Even if you have, he doesn't want to assume you haven't changed your mind. He'll let you back out if you want to, an easy expression on his face as he waits for you to crawl in.

He holds you like he's cradling you, arms wrapped securely around your form. You're kept against his chest, Sylus' breathing steady against you as you fall asleep. It really takes no time in his arms, just being in his presence comforting enough for you to fall asleep in no time.

#love and deespace x reader #l&ds x reader #lads x reader #diluc x reader #genshin x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #sylus x reader #lads sylus x reader #l&ds sylus x reader

162 notes · View notes

russellsppttemplates · 10 months ago

Text

I'll never give up on you (Franco Colapinto)

You think your age is an obstacle, but Franco is set on proving you otherwise

Note: english is not my first language. It's the big doe eyes, the curly hair and the fact that he's very funny, isn't it? It's a very crappy situation for everyone how they got here, everyone recognises that. This is also the first time I'm writing for him 🤍 I always feel and know I have to put this - for those who are here and have stayed, thank you for being so patient and for staying - I hope this is good enough ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not taking requests right now, so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to send them in but know that I don't know when I'll be able to get to them!

my masterlist

Cw: reader is slightly older than Franco (three years), alludes to previous bad relationships, alcohol consumption, relationship insecurity, reader gets accidentally hurt

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3 @sltwins

"You look gorgeous, Y/N! I love love love this!", Olivia squealed, clapping her hands when she got to your bedroom.

"It's nothing special", you blushed at her compliments.

"It will catch some eyes, you will catch some eyes!", she smiled, "can you help me with my dress, please?", she turned around so you could zip her up.

You and your bestfriend Olivia shared an apartment in university, and once you entered into the job market, you quickly realised that it would be best to keep the same living situation, knowing you'd save some money in a beginner salary and you both felt comfortable about eachother. Her boyfriend Mark had just got a work promotion and he wanted to celebrate it with his friends, so you had been invited.

"Who else is going to be there?", you mused as you packed the essentials on your small purse.

"Some guys from the new department he's in now, Luke - the one we met a couple of weeks ago at the shops -", she began listing the names she recalled, "Amber, and Franco, I think - he doesn't have a race this week", Olivia said.

"Oh, okay", you smiled.

Franco Colapinto knew Mark from one of the teams he had driven for, and despite his career, he was an incredibly down to earth guy. You had met him in a few other occasions and he was funny, kind, always up for a challenge and not easy to persuade out of things. "Things" including flirting with you. At first, you thought it was just his nature and posture towards new people, but after realising he only acted like that towards you, and the fact that he kept making advances and going as far as talking to Olivia about it, you knew it was something else.

"You still haven't changed your mind about him? He's such a good match for you, Y/N/N", Olivia pouted.

The premise was simple - Franco was younger than you, and as much as he seemed interested, it would never lead to anything good. He was young, aspiring an amazing career you were sure he would achieve, and frankly, you couldn't see you in there. He would like to party all out, not have responsibilities and certainly not have to date someone older than him. And this was just at the top of your head - if you let your insecurities really work you up, there were many other reasons.

"We are not! If we did date, it wouldn't last long and I'm not up for that - I've learned my lesson", you tsked.

"You know he's very into you, I'm not sure you can get him to back down", Olivia advised, "I get that you have your walls, but maybe you could give him a chance?".

"He'll probably find someone else, if he hasn't already - now let's go!", you pulled her with you, not wanting to arrive late.

Once you were inside, you quickly spotted the group, greeting everyone and ordering some drinks.

"You're sure you don't want anything else?", Mark wondered.

"I don't feel like drinking anything strong today, but I'll toast to your promotion - congratulations again!", you hugged him.

"Careful, everyone!", you heard the argentinian accent call out, getting you to make room on the table so the bartender could set the tray with all the drinks, "Hello, Y/N, how are you?".

Turning to face Franco, you were instantly met with his bright smile, shiny eyes and wavy hair perfectly tousled, "Hi, I've been good, and you?".

"Even better now that you're here", he winked, "you look amazing by the way, that colour looks beautiful on you", he complimented.

Hoping the dim lighting hid your blushing cheeks you nodded, taking the coaster to our your drink on before looking at him, "thanks, it's not new or anything", you brushed him off.

The night was on a good roll until you came back from freshening up in the bathroom - just as you were about to sit on the high stool, a guy pushed his friend in a playful manner, only for him to accidentally hit you and making you hit your knee on the piece of furniture.

"Fuck", you mumbled, bracing yourself against the table as the sharp pain climbed up your leg no matter how much your hand tried to soothe it.

Before you could process the whole thing, a large hand was placed low on your back, "are you okay, Y/N? What happened?".

"It was us, I'm so sorry", one of the guys apologised as he carried his friend to their table, "do you want me to get something? Again, I'm so sorry".

"It's fine, I've got her", Franco dismissed them before looking at you again, "are you okay?", he asked worriedly.

"Of course", you attempted to speak firmly even though you were sure your face said it all. Your mother always told you you weren't a great liar.

Franco didn't seem to be convinced either, and ignoring your words, he bent down to check your knee, "you should sit so it doesn't swell up, and ice it too", he stated, tapping his shoulders for you to support your weight in them and help hoist you up on the stool.

"I'll go get some ice", Olivia offered.

As she excused herself, Franco gingerly touched your knee, fearing that he would hurt you even more, "is this fine?".

"It's not terrible, but it's hurting, like, it's a pulsation", you winced as he squeezed.

"I'm sorry, Y/N", Franco apologised, "just needed to check that it's not broken".

"You don't need to stay here, Olivia is coming back already", you added, watching the rest of the guys back on the pool table after you assured you were fine all things considered.

"You're the only one I care about, the rest can wait", Franco spoke.

"Look at that group over there", you pointed with your eyes, "wouldn't you prefer to hang out with them?".

The balloons let you know it was one of the girl's 20th birthday, and judging by the way they were looking in your direction, they noticed you too. Or Franco, you assumed.

"I've told you, I don't care about them, now where is the ice?", he muttered, looking around in hopes of spotting your friend in the darkened room.

"She's coming back", you pointed out.

The ice pack seemed to help relieve the pain and perhaps help with the bruising you were sure was going to take over your knee, "Franco, you can go be with the guys, I'll be fine", you reassured him again, "or be with the girls over there, they're very keen on you", you nudged.

Franco looked up at you, his gaze intense and serious, "those girls don't interest me", he replied, "you're the only one I care about".

There it was again.

"Don't say that", you tried to push it away before it dwelled on, "they're all very pretty, your age I'm sure".

Franco smiled softly as his eyes remained fixated on you, "who I pay attention to is you, you're the one I've always paid attention to", he spoke, not caring about the fact that Olivia was right there as she seemed distracted, "I don't care about their age or what they do. They're not you, and I want to be with you, so I'll stay here with you", he stated.

You heart took a lep, and even though you wished you could say something rational, something that made sense, the way he was looking into your eyes didn't let you. There was honesty and sincerity that never seemed to fail and that you could never ignore.

"Let me help you", Franco spoke softly, "right now, you're the only thing worrying me".

Hesitating, you allowed him to adjust the ice pack and keep talking to you about random stuff to take your mind away from the state of your knee, and for the first time in a while, it felt good to let someone else take care of you.

"Do you really think that we won't workout because of our age difference?", Franco spoke.

Mark and Olivia went to get coffee for all of you and left you and Franco on the picnic blanket to save the spot and keep your belongings safe. The plan for the afternoon was to enjoy the sun outside and while you were sure your bestfriend had something to do with this whole arrangement, you decided to let it slip and focus on relaxing for the afternoon.

"What?", you mused.

"You always point out that you're older than me, and whenever I make any advances, which I assume you're not too blind about, you never say yes, but don't say no either", he offered, "is it an obstacle?".

"We're good, aren't we?", you spoke.

"We could be better", Franco spoke and he supported his torso on his hands on his sides, "do you know how much I care about you?".

"We're friends", you replied.

"And you're telling me we couldn't be more?", Franco wondered.

"You have so many things to do still, I can't imagine you'd want to be tied to a 24 year old with a job and mundane responsibilities", you chuckled.

"Is that what it is? Do you really think our age difference is an obstacle?", he spoke softly.

"I can't say with such certainty", you mumbled.

"Can I keep on showing you that it isn't?", Franco spoke.

"I'm very stubborn", you recalled, "and I don't want you to waste your time".

"I'm not going to pressure you, but I'm not going to stop trying to show you how much you mean to me - you're very important in my life, Y/N".

"Did you salt the water already?", Franco asked as he grabbed the pasta from the cupboard.

"I did", you told him as you chopped the peppers and onions to add to the sizzling pan.

Franco happened to be around the area for lunch, and after he saw your story about being on your own, playfully claiming that Olivia had abandoned you, he offered to keep you company. Taking Olivia's advice that you should give him a chance and explore what you felt for eachother, you invited him over for lunch.

"Can I ask you something?", Franco asked as he dried his hands on the kitchen towell, throwing it to you so you could do the same.

"Now I'm worried...", you joked, "but sure, go ahead".

The smell of garlic browning in the pan filled the kitchen as you added the rest of the veggies, and you could feel the driver's eyes watching you. Up until now, the atmosphere was light, but there was an unspoken tension at the prospect of the question.

Franco couldn’t take it anymore. He was spending time with you whenever he could, getting closer little by little, but he felt there was a wall. A wall that you held strong, despite your shared glances and conversations that often stretched into the night.

“Why…”, he paused for a second, as if he was choosing his words carefully, “why do you keep pushing me away?”.

You stopped stirring the pan, slowly setting down the spoon aside and turned to face him.

“What are you talking about?”, you asked even though you knew exactly what he meant.

Franco turned fully to face you, his eyes fixed on yours, “You know what I’m talking about,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper, "I’ve been trying to… get closer to you. You know how I feel about you, but every time I take a step toward you, you back away. There’s something you’re not saying, and I want to understand why, and if it's the age thing...", Franco let it out.

You sighed, fiddling with your hands as you gathered your thoughts.

“It’s not simple", you murmured, looking down at your feet.

"Then explain it to me", Franco's voice was calm, but insistent, "because from my side, it seems very simple. I like you. You like me, or at the very least you don't seem to hate me and…”, he hesitated, leaning a little closer, "whatever is stopping you… I can deal with it, we can talk about it".

Your heart raced as you looked up at him, "the age difference", you began hesitantly, “we’re from different worlds, different lives. You have so many options, people around you who… who are more in your vibe and in the line of life you can have. I’ve been through things you haven’t even begun to experience. What makes you think this… us, would be a good idea?", you mused.

Franco took a deep breath, taking a step closer until he was almost touching you, “What makes me think this would be a good idea? That we may have something to explore here? Have a shot at something good together?”, he repeated, looking directly into your eyes, "because every time I’m with you, I feel like I’m in the right place. Because no matter how much you think age is relevant, for me, what matters is how you make me feel. I’m not interested in anyone else, because you’re the one I want to explore these feelings with".

You fell silent, feeling his words invade her defenses. No one ever stood up for you like this.

“Age?”, he continued, "That doesn’t scare me. What scares me is losing you for a reason that, in the end, has no bearing on how I feel about you. You're so amazing and I don't want to lose that".

You bit your lip, feeling yourself wavering between the logic you had always used as a shield and what Franco was doing to your heart at that moment.

He took another step forward and gently placed his hand over yours, “I just need you to tell me… is it really age, or is it something more? Because if it’s just that… then we have a lot more to gain than we have to lose.”

You looked at his hand on hers and, for the first time, let yourself relax a little, allowing your brain to consider the possibility.

“What if it doesn’t go well?”, you whispered, voice hesitant and full of vulnerability, "I don't want to make a promise I can't keep, and I haven't let myself explore these feelings yet and... I don't want to hurt you, Franco".

"Y/N", he sighed softly with unexpected tenderness, “What if it does?", he smiled, "I'm not going to pressure you, and from the moment you tell me that there's no interest, I'll stop and we can remain friends. What I'm asking you is that you consider it first... take your time, I'll wait".

In a moment of confidence, Franco cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead, and for that moment you allowed your wall to lower a little more.

The good thing about the hot temperatures outside was that most people had taken their Saturday plans to the beach or the pool, so there was less traffic on your way home. You parked your car in the building's underground garage and went up the stairs to the floor where the apartment you share with Olivia is. Judging by how late you left work, your best friend must be home given that she has the free afternoon on Saturdays.

Turning the key in the lock and opening the door, you find a completely dark apartment, which is strange considering you left the blinds half open this morning to let in sunlight. As soon as you step inside, closing the front door behind you, you're surprised by lights that suddenly turn on and a chorus of voices singing the Happy Birthday song.

You hadn't felt in the right mood to celebrate your birthday this year, given and the changes from studying and the stress of your new job, so to say you were caught off guard by this surprise was an understatement. You had told Olivia that you could have something special for dinner to celebrate the day, and while she insisted a little more, she ended up dropping the subject. And you thought that meant the had agreed to your simple plans - that morning, she caught you when you were having your breakfast, wished you happy birthday and gave your her gift, a very simple necklace with a medal with your initial in it, and didn't make any more fuss.

You definitely didn't expect her to be preparing a surprise like this for you.

Besides Olivia and Mark, Franco is the first person you see in the living room of your apartment - which makes you feel a little bad about yourself considering you hadn't even told him that today was your birthday. Besides the three of them, Maria and Julia, your two closest friends from school, were also present, as well as Pedro, one of your best friends from high school that moved to another city, and as it turns out, came all the way to your party.

When the chanting ends, Olivia approaches you with the cake so that you can blow out the candles, everyone's attention still on you. You know you should say something, but right now, you were completely surprised, and talking under pressure was never your strongest suit.

"Thank you everyone!", is all you can say at first, earning laughs from your friends.

You rolled up the blinds, as they had been down so the surprise had full effect and opened the windows, allowing the air to circulate as everyone gathered in the living room, picking at the foods and drinking on the table you were sure were Olivia's doing for the small celebration.

She is the first one you turn to, tapping her shoulder softly.

"I know... I know you said you weren't in the mood to celebrate, but I thought that this is actually what you need - being with the people that adore you and care about you", Olivia goes first before you can utter out a word, "so, please, just enjoy this, okay?".

"Thank you, Liv", you smiled as you pulled her into a hug, "I can't believe that you went through all this trouble".

"It wasn't too much trouble, and Franco helped a lot", she answered, "the guy didn't even know what day your birthday was, Y/N... That's cruel!", she jokes, to which you roll your eyes.

"I probably forgot about that detail", you answer with a giggle, "thanks again".

"Stop being annoying and enjoy it", your best friend says, joining her boyfriend Mark's and Pedro's conversation.

You take the opportunity to greet Mark and then Pedro, who you haven't seen in person for a long time, "I can't believe you came all this way for this!", you exclaim.

"Of course I came! Olivia told me all the news and not only could I not miss your birthday, but I couldn't not come at a time like this", Pedro explains, "besides, how long has it been since we've been together in person?".

"Too long", you reply with a smile on your lips.

"Exactly! We need to catch up!", your friend exclaims, earning your agreement, "but go greet the rest of your guests first and we'll talk more later", he squeezed your shoulder.

You approach Maria and Julia, hugging them both tight. Although you finished your master's degree as they finished their undergraduate just over a year ago, you hadn't seen each other very often since then as work kept you all busy.

"I'm so happy you're here!", you smile, feeling genuinely happy at having all your people together in one room.

"We couldn't miss it. Besides, we've been missing you so much - you were truly a mother to us and I miss being coddled by you -, and we've already noticed that there's news you haven't been telling us...", Julia comments, wiggling her eyebrows and sharing a suggestive smile with Maria.

"What are you talking about?", you wondered with a quirked brow.

"You don't know? I'll tell you then! About Franco Colapinto!", she snickered, "you didn't tell us you were that close", Maria says.

You're quick to roll your eyes - a common response at her usual antics over the years -, "I told you we were friends", you recall.

"Yes, but we didn't know you were that close!", Julia insists.

"I see your annoying curiosity hasn't ceased", you joked, rolling your eyes again, "Anyway, thanks for being here, I really appreciate it", you joined your hands over your heart before excusing yourself.

Your eyes are quick to search for Franco, but you can't find him in the room. A few seconds later, you spot him returning from the hallway, assuming he had gone to the bathroom or had to take a phone call.

"I should be mad at you for conveniently forgetting to tell me when it was your birthday...", Franco starts, to which you shrug your houlders, trying to put on your best angelic and innocent face.

"I know, I'm sorry... with everything going on, I barely had time to think what month we were on and I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about it to be honest", you explained, "but I must confess I'm happy Olivia arranged this, and I know you helped a lot, so thank you so much, Franco".

"I get, I was just messing with you", he smiles, "and you don't have to thank me for it, you know I'll always do anything to see you happy".

"I know, and that's why I am so grateful", you smiled back.

"Might as well give you the present I got you now", Franco points out, "give me two seconds so I can get it from where Mark told me to put it so it wouldn't be in the way of Olivia's plans and before she started staring at me with her 'I'm going to chop your head off' eyes", he chuckled.

You nodded and waited long enough for Franco to pick up a bag and give it to you, " I racked my brain to decide what I should gift you, because nothing seemed good enough, but I hope you like this".

Undoing the bow keeping the paper bag together, you found a copy of your favourite book with a collectable cover. The intricate detailing of the golden foil complimented the colours beautifully and there was a bookmark inside it, the little tassel falling to the side. Taking it to inspect it closely, you read the delicate lettering Don't lose the sparkle that makes you.. you.

"Wow, Franco", you gasped, completely enamoured by the beauty of it all, "this is spot on, I love it!", you exclaimed, hugging him.

"I'm glad", Franco smiles, jokingly wiping sweat off his forehead and making you laugh.

"Have you met my friends?", you wondered.

"Yes, Olivia did all the introductions", the driver answers.

"Good, let's find out what they're going on about", you suggested, setting the present back in a safe place and pulling Franco with you to join the rest of the group.

You spend the rest of the afternoon and early evening chatting, while you eat and drink the things that Franco and Olivia kindly prepared, and playing some board games. At the end of it, you end up having a really good time, in a way that you haven't in a while, feeling really grateful that Olivia had prepared this surprise. Without knowing it, this was exactly what you needed: your friends and some good moments of relaxation.

"Are you leaving already?", you ask Pedro when the young engineer announces his departure.

"I still have to drive back, Y/N, remember?", he reminds you, earning a nod, "but don't worry your heart too much, I'll keep bothering you with messages and calls and stuff... You won't get rid of me that easily".

"Fine by me!", you smiled at him, "thanks for coming, truly!".

"You have nothing to thank me for. I'll be here any time if you need me - I'm a phone call away", he reminds you, "Are you okay?".

"Of course", you smiled, "let me know when you get home, okay?".

"I will. I had a great time meeting you guys today", Pedro waves at everyone, "until next time!", before leaving the apartment.

At around 10pm, Maria and Julia also announce that they need to leave since they would have an early morning. You bid them goodbye to your friends with the promise of a lunch whenever you could find the time to catch up.

"Don't tell me you're chickening out now and going home too?", a slightly tipsy Olivia teases Franco as he got up from the his spot in the sofa.

"I've already told you that I have the day off tomorrow, my friend", Franco teased her back, getting you and Mark to laugh.

"Let's play another round then", Mark suggested, "since there's only four of us now, we can split into two teams and play Party & Co.".

"This is a recipe for disaster if I have ever seen one", you muttered, "Olivia is a terrible loser and you are a racing driver".

"That's why you should want to have me on your team, I'm used to competing", Franco argued in his favor.

"Strong point, argument accepted. Let's do it!", you declared.

During the game, Olivia ends up making up consequences for those who make mistakes, making everyone drink a few sips of their drinks and even Franco joins in with these punishments, arguing that today is an exceptional day to his usual regime.

By the end of the first game, it's clear that you're all drunk, so you make the responsible and sensible decision not to play anymore. Mark and Olivia end up retiring to the room, leaving you with Franco in the living room.

"I hope they don't make too much noise", you point out as you adjust your position on the sofa so that you're facing Franco, making him burst out laughing at your words, "What?! I'm not telling any lies! Have you imagined how uncomfortable it would be for us to be here and hear them having a baby making practice session?".

"You're right, you're right. I hope they don't make much noise", Franco repeats your words and, this time, you both laugh, "So... did you and Pedro date in high school?".

"Did he tell you that?", you ask, unable to contain your giggles.

"Yes, why? Is it a lie?", Franco asks.

"Half, half", you answered with a gesture.

"How is something half half a lie? It's either the truth or a lie", Franco states.

"I had a crush on Pedro, I tried my luck, but nothing ever happened between us", you admitted, deliberately pausing briefly before continuing, "Because Pedro is gay, Franco, and he was clearly making fun of you", you finally let out a laugh that's been bubbling up since he first asked you.

"Are you serious?", Franco mused.

"Yes. Apparently, he found a weak spot in you and decided to exploit it", you answered amused by the situation that must've enrolled when you weren't home yet.

"A weak spot? Nah... We were talking and he just dropped it, I have no idea why", Franco said, shrugging his shoulders.

"What were you talking about?", you wondered.

"Considering we were at your birthday party... We were talking about you", the brown-haired man answers.

"Please continue", you encouraged.

"Curiosity killed the cat, Y/N Y/L/N", Franco declared, but your glare was enough for him to keep going, "He asked me how we met and I told him. And then he told me about you. And he clearly told me a lie".

"Does it make you feel relieved that it's a lie?", you spoke before thinking properly about it. The sudden courage is unusual for you, but you're playing with all your cards on the table.

"I don't know what you're getting at, Y/N", the driver changes the subject, which makes you roll your eyes.

"I know you undertand it, stop acting like you don't. It's a yes or no question - are you relieved or not?!", you insist.

"Honestly? It doesn't do much. If it were true, it would be something from your past, not your present. We both have a past", Franco responds in a somewhat evasive manner.

"But it could be my present again, especially since he was here today", you decided to insist, wanting to understand how far you could push him.

You weren't sure about the game you were playing, and you couldn't quite say that you were thinking clearly, but this feeling of dominance and being in control was enjoyable. Understanding that this was making Franco uncomfortable also made you realize that he wasn't so sure about talking about what he felt for you. The part of you that wants to understand what he really feels for you is ignited, and you can't tame it down.

After the conversation you had, Franco didn't make any advances and never showed that he wanted more than a friendship, which, in a way, left you at ease, but also perhaps a little disappointed. Had he realised that you weren't worth it?

"Honestly, I don't know what you're getting at...", Franco pretends not to understand again, which makes you sigh loudly, "What's wrong?".

"What I'm trying to understand is if what he said to you bothered you or not. And if so, why. But clearly you are not ready to admit it", you state.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N... You're trying to cross a very complicated line", he warns.

"Why?", you keep going.

"Because you asked for time and space and I gave it to you. And now you're trying to cross a line that I've been trying not to cross, because I'm trying to respect your wishes", Franco answers, this time sincerely.

"That's true, I asked you for time and space and you gave it to me. And I appreciate it", you begin, "but... I know I'm getting closer to that line, maybe I'm even playing a dangerous game too, but I'm doing it consciously".

"What if you're not ready for my honest answers?", Franco argues.

"Well, that's a me problem, isn't it?", you shrugged your shoulders, "can I ask my questions and get back honest answers?", and Franco's answer comes out in form of an unhappy sigh followed by a nod of agreement, "did what Pedro told you bother you? Did it bother you to think that we had dated and that he was back here?".

"Like I told you, we both have a past", Franco avoids the question. Tries to, anyway.

"Honest answers, Franco!", you exclaimed, pleading in exasperation, "of course we have a past, but I'm not going to give the past a shot and I think you won't do again what you did before! With Pedro, it would be different, because if we had dated and he was here, that would mean we had a good relationship. So, I'm going to repeat the question again, and I want you to give me an honest answer - did it bother you or not?".

"It bothered me!", Franco suddenly exclaim, "do you want honest? Here it goes! Yes, it bothered me exactly because of what you just said. Even if, by some act of the devil, your other boyfriend came back into your life, I know for a fact that he would never have another chance with you. However, if you had dated Pedro and if he was here today, it meant that he had a chance with you. And if he had a chance with you, then he was someone I would have to look at as competition".

"And now that you know that there never was and there never could be anything between me and Pedro?", you ask him.

"It makes me feel a little less worried. It means that I still have time to try to continue to mend the damage that others have caused, it means that I can still work to show you how much you mean to me and how high I hold you in my life", Franco replies in a calm and honest tone, which surprises you.

Faced with his words, this time, you are the one who doesn't know what to say. You did ask for honesty and there it was.

"You wanted honest answers...", Franco argues, as if he could guess what was on your mind. Lately, it seemed like he could do it effortlessly.

"I know, I'm not complaining", you admitted, "Does that mean that what you feel for me goes beyond friendship?", you ask directly. You needed to hear it from his mouth.

"What can my answer change in our relationship?", Franco asks, not answering your question.

"Nothing. I won't walk away from you this time, I promise. I just need to know", you clarified.

"Do you really want me to be one hundred percent honest with you?", Franco asks.

"Yes, please", you ask.

"Yes, what I feel for you goes beyond friendship. I tried not to let it be like that, I tried to pretend that I wasn't falling in love with you, but there's no way to control what we feel", he declares honestly without ever stopping to fix his gaze on yours, "Every time I look at you, I see someone with whom I can imagine a future... And I know how hasty this may seem, and I know your reservations about us, but it's simply how I feel. You asked me to be honest and I'm being as honest as I can... But I don't want to lose you, Y/N. In fact, I can't lose you, because, the moment that happens, I think I'll end up losing myself too", Franco stated.

His words leave you completely disarmed, not knowing what to say. Looking at it, you don't think anyone has ever said something like that to you. The words overwhelm you and there doesn't seem to be a right thing to tell him back.

"Can we just forget I said all this?", Franco says, "I don't want things to get awkward between us".

"But I don't want to forget it", you answer quickly, "It was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me".

Judging it by Franco's expression, he was also caught off guard by your words, probably because he thought this would change your relationship again and brung unwanted distance between you.

Truth was, you weren't going to run away anymore. You didn't want to, and you couldn't do it.

Yes, you were scared, but you knew you need to move on. The comfort zone can be very good, but no boat was made to stay at the dock and you needed to drop the anchor and launch yourself into the unknown. Besides, you know that, in a few years time, you won't like to look back and regret what you didn't do.

"Can I ask you the question back, then?", Franco tries and you nod, "Is what you feel for me just friendship? Or something more?".

"I don't have an answer as assertive and confident as yours, but I know that I look at you and I don't see you just as a friend. You are very special to me, Franco. You are the person I want to talk to about everything, the good and the bad. You are the person who I know will never judge me, who will always try to understand me and help me. After all, you were the first person I was able to trust one hundred percent", you admit, "and I'm still figuring out how I'm supposed to allow myself to believe in love again after everything that happened, but I really wish you were by my side on this journey... That you would make me believe in love again", you offered.

"I don't like to make promises, Y/N/N, but there's one thing I'm absolutely sure of - I'll do everything in my power to make you believe in love again", Franco says, pulling you into his lap and embracing you in a hug that makes you feel safer than ever.

When Franco called you and asked if you could join him in the park, you were quick to let him know you were leaving work and heading to meet him. The past two weeks had been crazy with him travelling to races and you visiting your family, so texting had become the way you found to maintain contact.

As soon as you spot him by the trees, you walk a little faster, hugging him as soon as you are able to, "can I say that I've missed you?", you joked.

"I missed you loads, so I think it's only fair you tell me", he smiled, "Hi, how was your day?", he asked as he squeezed you against him.

"I missed you", you spoke, "and it was good, better now that I'm here".

Lately, your walls had lowered progressively - Franco's reassurance and a constant defiance of your thoughts had helped you break down the worries you had. Olivia pointed it out, everyone noticed how much happier you were, and even Franco could sense you were feeling more comfortable.

You end up sitting so close to each other that your knees touch and you rest your arm on Franco's and let your head fall on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a few seconds and just inhaling his scent.

"I...", Franco begins but soon stops before saying anything else.

"What is it?", you ask, raising your head to look at him.

"Nothing, nevermind", he shrugs.

"I don't like it when people say that to me. If you were going to say something, don't tell me to forget about it", you state firmly, "Whatever you were going to say, you can say it. Always. I will never judge anything you tell me. I know you, okay, Franco?".

"Yes, but...", he sighs, "I think I'm missing the courage".

"Please, just say it!", you exclaim, starting to get anxious and worried about his hesitation, "Is it something serious? Is there a problem?".

"No, nothing like that!", he clarified.

"Okay, then...", you encouraged.

"It's about a conversation I had with my mother", he says and, although you don't say a word, your expression lets him know he can continue, "about you".

"About me?", you ask curiously.

"She doesn't know it's you, but... It was about us and about what I feel for you", he offers.

At these words, your heart suddenly accelerates, "she told me that life is supposed to be lived and that..", he gulps.

You remain silent, because you don't know if ot what your supposed to answer. There's nervousness and anxiety as you're not sure exactly where this conversation is going to end up at.

"We can't predict the future, we don't know how much time we have", Franco spoke, "what I mean by this is that I've been thinking that, many times, we waste time on things that, perhaps, don't make that much sense. And I think I've been wasting some time in the sense that I've wanted to do things calmly, I've wanted to respect your time and I think I'm the one who's been afraid of taking the next step. I'm too afraid of losing you, but I'm wasting time and we never know when it is too late".

Part of you knows where Franco is going with this, but the other one doesn't fully understand what he's trying to say.

You're nervous, your heart feels like it's beating out of control and there's a lump in your throat. Despite not crying often, you feel the tears right at the back of your eyes, ready to fall at any moment.

"I'm not particularly good with words, Y/N, but what I'm trying to tell you is that I'm madly in love with you. Damn, I'm trying to tell you that I love you. And I know you're scared and I'm scared, because there have been bad experiences, and because what we have is very special and neither of us wants to ruin it. But I think we're wasting time apart when we could make the most of this time together", Franco continues, "I believe we were very lucky to have found each other when we did. I think we had the perfect timing. And every time I look at you, all I can think about is how lucky I am to have found you. I love you, Y/N, and I want to be with you one hundred percent", the brown-haired man stops his speech as if to catch his breath, and then concludes, "That is if you want to be with me, obviously".

What can you say to someone who declares themselves to you in this way? What do you say to someone who has told you everything? How can you say something that comes even close to what you just heard?

"Did I misunderstand everything and after all you don't like me the same way, is that it?", Franco asks, "it's just, your texts and the way you talk, feels like you do".

The insecurity in his voice is the trigger you need for the words to simply come out of your mouth without having to think much about them, "No, it's nothing like that!", you exclaim, "It's just that it's hard for me to say anything after everything you said. I don't want you to doubt for even a second what I feel for you, Franco. I know I haven't been the best person to express my feelings, because when we say things out loud, they become real. And I was so afraid to admit the truth, so much so that I preferred not to say it. But you're right. Life changes in the blink of an eye and it doesn't make sense to keep leaving things unsaid or undone and wasting time. I'm in love with you, Franco. A part of me has wished, since the moment you made an effort for me, that I could have someone like that by my side, willing to protect me, take care of me and be there for me. I have no doubt that my life has changed for the better because you came into it. And I should have told you all this sooner, because you deserve to hear all this and much more. You are an extraordinary person and you deserve to be happy. And I want to be able to make you happy", you stop for a few seconds, taking a deep breath and gathering all the courage in the world to say the dreaded words out loud, "I love you and there is nothing I want more in this world than to be with you and be your girlfriend".

Despite all the nervousness you felt when expressing your feelings, the relief that follows leaves you feeling like a weight was lifted off your shoulder. Suddenly, you understand that fear paralyzes people and prevents them from moving forward.

The fear of not being enough for Franco, that he couldn't possibly have a girlfriend older than him and the fear that he would suffer from that was what was holding you back, stopping you from being happy. Now that you got that off your chest, that you said what you feel out loud, you realise you're ready to be happy again with someone else.

The smile that appears on Franco's lips makes your day. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you towards him, pressing your lips together.

You close your eyes and savour every second of the moment: from the way his hand is resting on your waist, while the other caresses your cheek, to the way his lips slide over your and your tongues touch.

When you break the kiss, needing to breathe, you keep your eyes closed for a fraction of a second, enjoying the sensation his lips left on yours.

"I have something to ask of you", you say, opening your eyes.

Franco's arm continues wrapped around you and you remain very close to him without moving, appreciating the closeness.

"Whatever you want", Franco says.

"Don't give up on me. Whenever I try to push you away, pull me to you. Whenever I yell at you because I'm angry, hug me. If I don't answer your texts or calls, look for me. When I feel too insecure, remind me that I'm the only one and how lucky I am to have you. If I'm giving up on us, kiss me and remind me why I shouldn't give up. And I know this is asking too much, but I know you love me enough to do this, to stay with me. I promise to do the same with you, to never give up", you declare.

"I promise, mi amor. I'll never give up on you, not even if you ask me to", Franco smiles as you cup his cheek, bringing your faces closer once again to kiss him.

#franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto fluff #franco colapinto fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

469 notes · View notes

unholyhelbig · 4 months ago

Note

hi there! saw your requests were open so thought id give it a go— I never did that before but here I go o/

if you still write for your oversight au, id love to read litteraly anything you can make <3 maybe nat notices r's attention span progressively gets worse through the years, especially when she gets tired? (I heavily headcanon r to be an adhd gal, but maybe I'm just protecting too hard lol <3)

with just that I hope you have a nice day, thank you for sharing your work to us! ive read the oversight twice already, it's definitely one of my favourite fics :) I absolutely love your stuff and plan to read everything within reach when work gives me free time aha!

Title: Aren't You Tired? [An Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Natasha returns home from a night out expecting her wife to be fast asleep but instead, catches her hard at work in her home office.

Warnings: mentions of guns, cannon typical violence, mentions of roulette, exhaustion, nothing too bad really, horrible grammar because I never proofread.

[a/n: Totally hope I did this justice! I tried to follow a lot of of guides that outlined ADHD but I don't have it myself, so I very well could have missed the mark, so please forgive me. I also haven't written for this universe in awhile, so this feels like coming home. I missed these two!]

Check out the full Oversight universe

At night, things got country quiet around the Romanoff estate. There was a simple grandfather clock that rested in the corner of the sitting room that kept perfect time and chimed in a woody, monotone hum. The house settled in a typical way and low tones from the nearby harbor would sometimes leak through the walls. But often, when Natasha Romanoff wandered in from late nights with the obligatory taste of brandy on her tongue, she was met with silence.

Her shoulders ached when she hung her salt-crusted coat on the hook by the door, a perfect black next to yours and Ronnie’s. She toed off her muddy boots and ignored the throbbing in her temple. Tonight, she had taken quite the hit to the jaw, and it ached as her buzz stared to wear off.

Natasha knew she needed water and a shower and probably something stronger than a couple of aspirin, but she didn’t’ search for any of them. Instead, she ascended the stairs in pursuit of you. Subconsciously, you were the only thing she wanted. Warm and soft and probably asleep by now. She wasn’t going to disturb you. She’d simply slip into your arms that always wrapped around her. You’d kiss her neck through the dregs of sleep, slur through your words, pat her down to check for blood and bullet holes.

Tonight seemed to be different. The bedroom door was open, giving way to darkness that was cold, the king-sized bed still meticulously made. Untouched from this morning when the two of you had flattened the duvet yourselves. Your suit jacket was laying across one end, haphazardly laid across the edge.

Natasha huffed and moved across the hall to Ronnie’s room, cracking the door. It was warmer in here, hitting her with the scent of vanilla. A night light bathed the room in a timid yellow glow. Your daughter, their daughter, faced the hallway, deep within the clutches of sleep. Curled into herself with soft snores escaping her.

Warmth bloomed in Natasha’s chest. Veronica always had a pensive look on her face, a frown as if she was analyzing everything. Yelena would joke that a ten-year-old shouldn’t have that much in her head to think over. But she knew better. She knew that Ronnie was too smart for her own good, that maybe they’d have trouble with her later if they weren’t careful. A good type of trouble that scared her in the best way possible.

Natasha pressed her lips to Ronnie’s temple in a soft kiss, brushing strands of sleep-mussed hair from her complexion, earning a content whine as the girl shifted onto her back, brushing her warm little hands close to Natasha’s wrist. A small squeeze of acknowledgement before dropping back into unconsciousness.

There weren’t many places in the house you could be. When you couldn’t sleep, wouldn’t, you often wandered to the pool out back which was too cold this time of year. To the library on the first floor, which was vacant. Or to your office upstairs. Natasha used her fantastic detective skills to deduce the third option as her winner after she softly closed Veronica’s door.

She worked her jaw as she walked, knowing that it had bruised viciously by now. Your office was something vacant until you’d moved in four years ago, until she had a family to fill out the rooms that were nothing more than place holders. She reveled in having a destination. In having a wife to find in the expanses of her shared home.

Below the gap of the door was a saffron gleam that flickered with shadows. You were pacing, it wasn’t hard to tell. You did that sometimes, when you were puzzling something out. Especially when it was this late and Natasha had yet to come home. She felt a twinge of guilt deep in her gut and then something more. That longing again. That need to stop the back and forth. To reach out and grip your shoulders and still your mind for just a moment.

Her knuckles rapped twice on the door, but not too hard. Chances were, you were deep into something, and she didn’t want to pull you from it, not entirely. She didn’t get an answer, though, so she shouldered into the office regardless. A judgement call. A correct judgement call.

Your tired eyes lit up at the sight of her, the nail of your thumb bitten between your teeth. You had the small of your back against the front of your desk and your eyes trained on a typed sheet of analytics that Natasha didn’t’ have the wherewithal to decipher right now.

Natahsa’s heart melted. You were in her t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Your hair was mussed, and your feet were sock-clad. Your smile was goofy. Sleepy. “Hi baby”

“Hi dorogoy,” She closed the distance, pecked you on the lips but your fingers wrapped around the collar of her shirt and pulled her into something deeper. She inhaled sharply when you brushed against the tenderness of the bruising on her jaw. “ah, easy.”

You scoffed, foreheads resting together, “Did you start a fight over billiards again?”

Natasha groaned and stepped back. “I really must stop expecting criminals to play fair.”

Neither of you pointed out that the two of you never played fair. She’d taken a stick to the jaw and would much rather forget it. She’d gotten sloppy and her guard was down. Nothing a good nights sleep and an ice pack could solve. You pouted at her regardless and smoothed the pads of your fingers softly over the formed bruise.

Soon your touch was missing altogether and your eyes darted back to the paper, nail returning between your teeth. Natasha couldn’t help the way her lip turned up in a form of affection. She wanted to kiss that look of concentration off your face. It was no use dragging you to bed in your current state.

“What are you working on?”

Your stare flicked up to her, then back to the paper, and up to her once more. “Huh?”

“Technically, I’m your boss, malishka.” She tapped the edge of the paper. “Don’t make me pull rank.”

You smiled genuinely at this, though Natasha could see the exhaustion in your eyes, she knew she wouldn’t’ be able to drag you from this room and into your shared bed until you’d puzzled your way through whatever plagued you. It was something she had noticed a few years ago when the two of you had started living together. Something that manifested itself in a lack of attention span that matched in pitch with Kate’s.

Sometimes it was the opposite. Sometimes, you honed in on things viciously, clamping your jaws around them until the blood filled your mouth, threatening to drown you unless Natasha stuck her fingers between your teeth and the prey. Now, she figured, was one of those times. She’d allow yourself to exhaust yourself rather than drag you by the leash, letting you drag your paws through the mud.

Recently, you’d been hyper fixated on Alonzo Lincoln and the way he had been moving weapons in Romanoff territory lately. There were patterns that had caught your attention. Patterns that even Natasha hadn’t picked up on. It had taken over the map on your wall for the last month and then the paper trail that was in your hands now and it seems, stolen your sleep.

“Lonnie isn’t much of a threat. Rationally, I know that. He’s moving kid stuff, small cargo like handguns and a few crates of ammo here and there through the north docks on the one cargo ship that you allow him. We keep a handle on it. But in the last two shipments we flagged a different brand of gunpowder,” You stood, walking to the whiteboard that you had across the room, uncapping the nearest marker and drawing a sloppy red dot next to two dates. “We flagged him on it. Reprimanded his guys. He backed off, but if you look at the trends,”

You moved through the dates, filling out the red dots, copying them from the paper you were gripping earlier. Natasha watched you work with a fondness. But she followed the transfer with caution. Despite your borderline obsession, the one that would have worried her any other time, you had a point. Tombstone was moving a new type of gunpowder for the last year right under your noses.

“It’s a pattern. One that we have to snuff out.”

“I adore when you talk dirty to me, darling.”

“I’m serious, Natty.”

She knew that you were. It was impossible to break your spell. There was a whine to your voice that shot something straight to her core. Natasha knew that she was dark and twisted. That it was straight up wrong to think it was sexy when you honed in on criminalistic trends. It didn’t stop her from looping her arms around you and pulling you close.

“I know you are, Lisichka, and I’ll spare no expense to tear him limb from limb if the need so arises.” She nudged her nose against your own. “I’ll even give you the pleasure, considering it was your brilliant mind who figured it out. I do know how you enjoy your games of roulette.”

Her hand was splayed against your chest. She felt your chuckle, your eyes closed as you leaned heavily against her. You were exhausted. She’d worked her fingers between your sharp teeth and your prey. You both knew it. All Natasha needed to do now was take your lead and guide you. Keep you on task.

“That can wait for now, though, hmm?”

“He’s got another shipment arranged for next week.”

“That so?”

“A normal one, no gunpowder according to the ledger.” You took a deep breath, nudging a spot at the edge at of her earlobe “are you wearing a new scent? I like it.”

“Yeah, baby, it’s new. Aren’t you tired? It’s late.”

You shrugged dejectedly, “I could sleep.”

Natasha chuckled at this. You said it like it was a meal after a long day instead of something that was pulling at every facet of you. Your eyes, when they blinked back open at her, were so fuzzy and disoriented that she wanted to coddle you. How long exactly had you been at this? She knew it was a way to pass time, but you were about to fall over into her embrace and she had the innate urge to scoop you into her arms if you didn’t stop resisting.

She kissed you once, and then twice. The third time was deeper than the first two, Natasha licking into your mouth and pulling you towards the door at the same time. Your hand exploring the wall in a blind effort to shut the lights off in the office. Nothing a little persuasion couldn’t do.

“I thought you wanted to sleep.” You mumbled.

“Oh, I do.” Natasha husked, leading the both of you into your room. “I want you on the bed. Now.”

You lifted an eyebrow at her, a devilish but sleepy smile on your lips. But you followed instructions just fine when you were pliable like this. Natasha had grown quite accustomed to your short attention span when you were exhausted. She took over driving. She led you with a hand on the small of your back if parties ran late. She gently directed you where and when you needed it.

It was very un-sexy of you, but you flopped face-down onto your side of the bed, letting out a content sigh as you breathed in your combined scents. You listened to Natasha flit about the room, the familiar sounds of her earrings hitting her jewelry tray, and the open and close of her dresser.

There was a dip of the mattress, the strengthening of her scent. Natasha’s touch was feather light against your spine as she started to drag her nails up and down your back. You sighed contentedly into the pillow, more of a growl than an exhale.

Soon she flicks off the light, plunging the two of you into darkness. You turned onto your side subconsciously, reaching out in your haze of near-sleep. Your arm looped around Natasha’s center, pulled her flush against your front in a practiced movement of ease with the strength that she had trained into you.

“Are you wearing a new scent? I like it. Smells nice.” You slurred, repeating an earlier inquiry.

“Mm” She hummed in amusement, enjoying the way you squeezed her closer, The enveloping warmth of you, the hot breath against the nape of her neck. “it is.”

“Smells nice.” You sighed contentedly, cuddling closer, words slipping into something soft and quiet. “love you.”

Natasha burrowed closer, smoothed her thumb over your scarred knuckles with a contented sigh. “I love you too.”

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife@a-spes, @kyleeservopoulos]

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanov x reader #Mafia au #Yelena Belova #Kate Bishop #Clint Barton #Reader insert #request #natasha romonova #Bishlova #kate bishop x yelena belova

168 notes · View notes

celestie0 · 7 months ago

Text

hi my friends! hope you're all doing well. just wanted to come on here and share a little updates w you guys (if you're still here lol)

i guess it's been like a month n a half since i formally went on hiatus, and it's been nice! i got kinda sick for a little bit lmfaooo which was tough to manage w school, but i'm better now

although i took time away from my blog, i still delved in writing here n there. i haven't written anything for kickoff since tbh i'm in such a slump w it. but i still have big plans for stuff that happens after ch13, so hopefully i can just push through this next chapter and get to a better place. thanks so much to anyone that is still interested in the story, it means a lot to me. i know i'm so slow w updates and the story has been going on for almost a year now, but the continued support is so sweet! even though i didn't work on writing it these past one n a half months, i still really love it and plan to finish it.

i'm not sure if many people remember that i had this sort of "apocalypse" gojo x reader au about an asteroid being set to hit the earth in three days, and reader n gojo are ex lovers n the impending end of the world makes them break no-contact...yeah i finished writing the first chapter for it and i really love it so far! it's like set in new york which is really fun haha i love stories where new york is kind of its own "character" if that makes sense...it will definitely be a limited series w only 4 chapters or so, but i kinda wanna finish all 4 chapters before i start posting it bc i don't want it to be a drawn out series in terms of posting since i think it'd be best enjoyed in frequent succession if that makes sense

as for ihm, i think i wrote the most for ihm during my hiatus. i finished three chapters for it, but they are shorter chapters (around 3-4k words). i kinda realized one of my biggest reasons for burnout w my fics were the reaaaaallly long chapters...like didn't i have a 22k chapter for kickoff or sumn lol. idk i can't remember. but anyways, yeah the mindset behind the longer chapters was bc i liked each chapter to kinda have its own conflict, build up, tension then resolution in a sense. but it was exhausting to write that way tbh lol. so i think moving forward, for ihm, i will have shorter chapters. i just don't wanna think to much about things anymore, and write from my heart, bc i have a lot of things planned for ihm, and among the criticism i've received for my writing choices vs my own vision for the story, i've realized during my hiatus that the only way i can finish ihm, or any of my storeis for that matter, is if i just.........stop giving a fuck about it. lol idk if that sounds strange to say, but like, i don't want to over-edit anything. i don't want to think too much about redundancy. i don't want to flower things up or cut stuff out. i'm at the point where imma just write a first draft, check for grammarly errors, and then post it. i guess the reason i'm sharing this is because idk if this means that people may enjoy my writing less since i will admittedly be spending much less time on it than i did before, but tbh i realized i find the most joy while i'm writing, and not while i'm editing. so i want to spend as little time on the latter as possible, and if that changes the quality of my work, then so be it.

anyways, hmm as for hiatus. i guess i'm off hiatus now? i really enjoyed being off of tumblr tbh this app has a lot of questionable content at times (esp in jjk community) and it also did wonders for my studying bc i wasn't spending time doomscrolling or shit posting anymore lmfaooo. but as for writing in particular, i think i will start to post ihm again exclusively. i can't say anything about kickoff or my other projects, but i feel comfortable to start posting ihm again.

sorry, i know that i have kept my replies and ask box off for a long time. but i will open them again once i start posting chapters because i really miss interacting with you guys.

anywho, these are my updates lol i'm like not sure how many of my readers are still here or which ones have moved on but that's ok, i'm grateful to anyone n everyone. hope to see you all soon again!

165 notes · View notes

vintagesimstress · 28 days ago

Text

Brythonic names for sims

There's probably altogether something like three people out there who might be excited about this, but as I already made it for myself, why not share? An override of the names the game generates for newly made sims, both in CAS and in game.

Based on:

this amazing page (most of the names are given in a newer form, but many of them come with a possible reconstruction of what they might've sounded like back in Common Brythonic times);

names appearing on actual coins from the British iron age (and shortly afterwards);

those couple of names the Romans were kind enough to write down;

my own attempts at tracing some medieval Welsh names back to their ancient roots (as shared here and here);

as even after said attempts I ended up with 4 pages of male names and not even 1 of female, I tricked the system by simply 'feminising' a bunch of male names, i.e. swapping the male -os ending for female -a. I tried to avoid the names ending in nouns, but the ones ending in adjectives have all been indiscriminately gender-swapped. I make zero claims to their historical accuracy, but at least they have the right vibe... I guess?

For your casual townies only. Any sims with special names (natives of San Myshuno, Mt Komorebi, Sulani, Selvadorada, Chestnut Ridge, Tomarang and what not), servos and animals will source said names from their default (EA) lists.

Should work for all languages (many thanks to @kyriat-stories for testing!).

However!

This is achieved by tweaking the simspawner tuning so that all languages would source their name lists from English. That means any of the special sim-types listed above will show up in your games with English-template names, not the ones you used to have. That applies mostly to animals; as for the world-specific sims, I guess you shouldn't notice any difference unless you've been using non-Roman-alphabet-script until now.

Will likely break when EA releases another DLC with world-specific names. If we're really getting fairies soon, I'm afraid they might do just that. I'll try to keep the mod updated (as long as I hear no reports of disastrous bugs after the game update, that is). In case I don't, in my experience name mods rarely turn dangerous; the worst that can happen is that the game gets confused and spawns townies with no surnames etc.

Not compatible with any other name replacements. Duh! (including kuttoe's Townie Demographics mod, judging by the comments section.)

Oh, and two linguistic notes:

all male names on my list end in -os. I don't care what the Romans thought or wrote - they might've just assumed it's the same ending they were using in Latin, or thought that's how proper names 'should' look like so they kept romanising them on purpose; and as for the coins, endings tend to be cut off anyway (cause otherwise the names wouldn't fit, lol). I haven't seen that accursed -us ending in any linguistic sources, so... yeah. Os it is.

surnames are male names in their genitive form: -os turned into -i, meaning basically 'of X'. Short for 'son/daughter of X', which would be too long. TS4 is like those ancient coins, apparently. Too long names don't fit. The game rebels if you dare to try it.

Let me know if anything doesn't work as intended. The chosen three, enjoy!

DOWNLOAD (free on Patreon)

#ts4cc #ts4 name replacement #ts4 mini mod #ts4 celtic #gbsc #ts4 iron age

82 notes · View notes

lycheeloving · 1 year ago

Text

a concept I've been rotating in my head for a really long time now is an AU where the entire Justice League is yandere... with multiverse stuff, because I'm still me <3

They have some sort of machine in the Watchtower that can be used to contact and monitor other universes and even open portals, they've been in contact with a bunch of other Justice Leagues and help each other out in case of extreme emergencies.

However, they all spend a lot of time at the machine doing things unrelated to what it's supposed to be used for. They each watch a different civilian in a different universe, are basically obsessed with them, you could even say they're stalking them... They all try to do this secretly, as they're aware that this isn't exactly behavior that's seen as normal and healthy (and morally sound). Some of them are more successful at hiding it than others.

I imagine Batman would be the first to connect the dots that they're all obsessed with someone, gather evidence of everyone doing this, call everyone to a meeting and confront them with said evidence, only to then reveal that he's been doing the same thing...

And then he suggests bringing their obsessions here, as this behavior has caused them all to be distracted and get worse at their Justice League business, but if their darlings were here, they would no longer have to worry if they were safe or not! Additionally, as they're all from different universes, nobody would think to accuse the Justice League of this universe to be responsible for the kidnappings, nobody would be able to even connect the dots that the kidnappings are related! Batman tries to make it seem like he's suggesting this because he's worried about their performance, and not because he wants to get his darling closer to him, close enough to finally touch.

Everyone eagerly agrees, of course (after getting over the embarrassment of "Oh shit, Batman saw me stalking someone"). After some preparations, like choosing and remodeling rooms so the objects of their affections will hopefully feel comfortable being kept there (well, as comfortable as possible, considering the circumstances), they all work together to discreetly relocate all of their darlings from their original universes to their new home, the Watchtower in this universe.

Each darling gets their own room (that they share with their yandere, of course), but there's also rooms that are accessible to all of them, like a living room, a kitchen, etc, so they don't have to be alone when their yandere is out on patrol.

Everyone in the League tries to justify it to themselves by repeating how they're helping so many people, they've never asked for anything in return, they deserve this, but subconsciously they're all aware that what they're doing is not ok, they just don't care enough about that to stop. It's too late for that now anyways, their darlings are already here, they can't just return them!

I want to write something about what it's like to be the darling of the different members of the league at some point (and about the darlings escaping], but that might take a while, we'll see. Feel free to suggest Justice League members I should include though, I haven't quite decided about who exactly I want to be involved in this AU (other than the obvious Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman. and probably Flash)

I've already written for: Batman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Superman

date night

flirting / threesome with a different hero

#yandere dc #yandere justice league #yandere Batman #dc x reader #justice league x reader #batman x reader #x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #reader insert #lycheewritings #yandere superman #yandere wonder woman

616 notes · View notes

andy-15-07 · 4 months ago

Note

Hi dearest,

I saw that your requests are open! Could you write a Pedro pascal x reader one shot in which the reader is sick with sth quite bad like pneumonia and taking care of her 🤧 Some good old hurt/comfort ? I m so sick I need this

Take It Easy Tonight

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT:1910| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

A/n:I'm sorry I haven't been active in the last week, school kept me busy, now I have more free time and I will respond to all your requests.

You’d been feeling the burn of pneumonia for days—a fever that wouldn’t quit, aches that danced along your skin, and a persistent cough that made every breath feel like a battle. You’d been managing on your own for a while, determined not to burden anyone, but as the symptoms worsened, you finally conceded that maybe you couldn’t fight this alone. That’s when Pedro showed up at your door, concern in his eyes and a warmth in his smile that made you want to believe you could get through anything.

It was a gray, drizzly afternoon when you heard the knock. You lay in bed, shrouded in blankets, the room dimly lit by the weak winter sun. Before you could call out, the door swung open to reveal Pedro—handsomely disheveled, wearing a soft sweater and a look that mixed worry and determination.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice a warm baritone that seemed to wrap around you like a cozy blanket. “I heard you weren’t feeling well. Mind if I come in?”

You managed a weak smile, “I… I’m really not good company right now, Pedro.”

“Nonsense,” he replied firmly, stepping closer as if to shield you from the chill in the air. “You’re my company. Now, let’s get you comfortable.”

Pedro’s presence filled the small apartment with an unspoken promise of care. He helped you to sit up, propping you against the headboard with gentle hands. “You need to drink something,” he insisted, sliding a glass of water over to you. “And some soup—I made it just the way you like.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought of him cooking for you. “You did all this… for me?”

Pedro’s eyes softened as he brushed a stray hair from your forehead. “Of course. I hate seeing you like this. Besides, who else is going to fuss over you if not me?” His tone was playful yet sincere, and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh despite the pain.

Over the next few hours, Pedro settled into the role of caregiver. He coaxed you into sipping the warm soup, keeping a close watch on your temperature as you dozed in and out of consciousness. Every so often, he’d lean in, speaking in soft, reassuring tones.

“You’re doing great, love,” he murmured as he adjusted your pillow. “Just rest, and I’ll handle everything.”

The conversation flowed easily between you, his gentle questions about your day and comforting reassurances making the heavy air of illness seem a little lighter. “Remember when we used to race to the bus stop in college?” you asked in a rare moment of clarity, a nostalgic glimmer in your eyes.

Pedro chuckled, his laugh rich and contagious. “How could I forget? You always beat me, even when you were dragging your feet.” His eyes twinkled as he recalled those days, and he squeezed your hand in silent agreement with the memory.

“I miss those carefree days,” you admitted, the admission mingling with a cough that suddenly shook your body.

“Then we’re going to make sure you feel better, so you can get back to laughing at those memories soon,” Pedro replied, his tone firm yet tender. He dabbed at your forehead with a cool cloth, his fingertips gentle against your skin. “Hold on, okay? I’m not letting you go through this alone.”

As the evening wore on, the room filled with the soft hum of an old record playing in the background—a soothing melody that seemed to make time slow down. Pedro sat by your side, reading aloud from a book he knew you loved, his voice a calm rhythm in the quiet room. Every so often, he’d glance at you with a half-smile, as if sharing a private joke, even if your energy was waning.

“Do you remember what happened at that party last summer?” he asked during a lull in his reading.

Your eyes lit up, a spark of vitality returning for a moment. “How could I forget? You ended up singing karaoke with the entire bar,” you replied, the memory painting a grin on your face.

“Hey, I only got carried away because you dared me,” Pedro interjected with a mock indignation that made you laugh. “And you cheered me on like it was the best performance ever.”

That laughter, though weak, was a balm against the discomfort you’d been drowning in. Pedro’s care wasn’t just about medicine and soup—it was about reconnecting with you, piece by piece, until the illness seemed like a distant memory rather than a relentless enemy.

Later that night, as the temperature dropped and your fever spiked again, Pedro remained by your side, his presence a constant reassurance. “You’re burning up,” he observed, his hand steadying yours as he checked your forehead with a thermometer. “I’m calling the doctor if you don’t feel any better in a little while.”

You tried to protest, your voice barely a whisper. “I… I don’t want to go to the hospital,” you murmured, eyes downcast.

Pedro’s face softened with understanding. “I know, but sometimes we need a little extra help. And I’m not letting you suffer when I can do something about it. Promise me you’ll let me help, okay?”

You sighed, your resistance melting away under the earnestness of his gaze. “Okay… I trust you, Pedro.”

The next few hours were a blur of care routines and soft, whispered conversation. Pedro held your hand as you drifted in and out of sleep, occasionally coaxing a small smile or a whisper of gratitude from your lips. “I’m here,” he repeated over and over, a mantra that became the steady heartbeat of the night.

As the clock ticked on and the room darkened with the night’s embrace, Pedro tucked you in with an extra blanket and sat in a chair by your bed. “You need to rest now,” he said gently. “I’ll be right here, just in case you need me.”

In the quiet that followed, you listened to the steady ticking of the clock and the soft breathing of Pedro as he sat close, his presence a shield against the cold, lonely dark. “Pedro… thank you,” you whispered, voice fragile but sincere.

He leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on your temple. “No need to thank me,” he murmured. “I just want you to get better. I can’t stand seeing you hurt.”

You reached up, your fingers brushing against his hand. “You always make everything better. Even when I’m at my worst.”

Pedro smiled, a look of tender assurance in his eyes. “That’s what I’m here for. To take care of you, to be here for you when the world feels too heavy. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

The conversation dwindled into comfortable silence as you both succumbed to the lull of sleep and soft breathing. In the early hours of the morning, when the first light began to seep through the curtains, you awoke to find Pedro still there, his eyes soft with the remnants of sleep as he watched over you.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he greeted with a gentle smile. “How are you feeling?”

Your voice was still husky, but there was a warmth in your tone as you replied, “A bit better, thanks to you.”

Pedro chuckled, a sound that filled the room with warmth. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. Now, let’s get you up and about—slowly, of course.”

With Pedro’s help, you sat up and waded through the fog of your illness, each moment marked by his constant encouragement. “Just one step at a time,” he insisted as he helped you to the couch, where you rested under a pile of pillows. “We’ve got the whole day ahead of us.”

Between sips of water and gentle stretches, you found solace in the simplicity of the moment—the shared jokes, the quiet affirmations, and the palpable care that filled every corner of the room. “Do you remember when you said you could fix any problem with a smile?” you asked, a hint of mischief in your tone despite the lingering weakness.

Pedro laughed, a rich sound that filled the room. “I suppose I have a bit of a reputation for that, don’t I?”

“You do,” you agreed, your smile growing a little stronger. “And you definitely have a reputation for making me feel better, too.”

He leaned over, brushing his lips against your forehead in a gentle kiss. “I’m just happy to be here for you,” he said softly, his voice layered with genuine affection.

As the day wore on, Pedro continued his vigil by your side. He brought you light snacks, read to you from a favorite book, and even managed to coax a few more laughs from you with his animated retellings of past adventures. The room, once shadowed by illness, now glowed with the comfort of shared stories and heartfelt dialogue.

“You know,” Pedro said as he sat cross-legged beside you on the couch, “sometimes life throws these curveballs at us. But it’s moments like these—when we’re at our most vulnerable—that I realize how much strength we really have. And you, my dear, are one of the strongest people I know.”

You looked up at him, your eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and admiration. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Pedro.”

He shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You’ll never have to find out. I’m here, every step of the way.” His words were simple, yet they carried the weight of a promise.

That evening, as the sun began to set and cast a gentle glow over the room, you found yourself drifting once more into a peaceful sleep, with Pedro’s steady presence at your side. Even in your most vulnerable state, you felt safe, cared for, and infinitely cherished.

In the quiet of the night, when the world outside was dark and uncertain, Pedro’s care shone like a beacon of hope. “Rest well,” he whispered as he dimmed the light, “Tomorrow is a new day, and I promise we’ll face it together.”

And as you closed your eyes, your heart full of warmth and gratitude, you knew that no matter how hard the battle might be, you would always have someone to lean on—a gentle guardian whose care would light even the darkest hours.

The hours passed slowly, marked by soft exchanges and the simple comfort of being together. Pedro would occasionally share stories of his own struggles and triumphs, and each shared word helped to stitch the wounds of the day with a tender thread of understanding. “You’re not just a patient,” he would say with a smile, “You’re a warrior, and I’m honored to be by your side.”

In that small apartment, amid the steady rhythm of care and the soft cadence of whispered dialogue, a profound connection was forged—a testament to the healing power of compassion, trust, and a love that transcended even the harshest of illnesses.

When morning finally arrived, you awoke to a clear sky and a renewed sense of hope. The pneumonia was still there, a lingering challenge, but it no longer felt insurmountable. With Pedro’s care, each day brought a little more strength, a little more healing.

“You’re getting stronger,” he remarked as he helped you stand, his hands firm and reassuring. “We’ll beat this together.”

And with that simple promise, you stepped into the new day, knowing that no matter what obstacles lay ahead, you would never have to face them alone.

132 notes · View notes