#sorry for another rather long absence

[laeska]

[won4kiss]

── ❝ ꒰ 𝒲𝐻𝐸𝑁 𝒴𝑂𝑈 𝒜𝐿𝑀𝑂𝑆𝑇 𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐴𝐾𝑈𝑃 𝐷𝑈𝑅𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐴𝑁 𝒜𝑅𝐺𝑈𝑀𝐸𝑁𝑇 .ᐟㅤ ៸៸﹙ 엔하이픈 ﹚ ᶻ𐰁

GENRE ៸៸ angst ៸ hyung line ﹔ SYPNOSIS┆in which your relationship nearly comes to an end .ᐟㅤ ꒰ WORD COUNT﹕0.4k-1.0k per member ꒱── 𝓦ARNING(S) not edited ៸ arguing ៸ pet names ៸ swearing ៸ . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ⊱ LIBRARY . . . ﹕LUNA 💭— i’m gna cry schools so soon T-T 𖥔 ݁˖ 𝑟𝘦𝑞𝘶𝑒𝘴𝑡𝘦𝑑 ៸៸

୨୧ ‎이희승 ── 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

the anniversary dinner sat cold on the dining table, candles flickering sadly in the dim and darkened room.

you’d been waiting for hours at this point, checking the clock every few minutes, willing it to move slower or faster—you didn’t even know anymore.

the tightness in your chest had started as an uneasy flutter when heeseung missed the time you’d agreed on.

but you had faith in heeseung— you didn’t think he’d ever go as far as standing you up on your anniversary.

but now, as minutes stretched into hours, that flutter had grown into a gnawing ache of disappointment and helplessness.

when he finally walked through the door, his face was flushed with exhaustion, hair damp with sweat from what you knew had been another dance practice.

he didn’t look at you at first, too busy kicking off his shoes and tossing his bag onto the floor.

he didn’t notice the table you had set or the special effort you had put into the evening. ─── 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘊𝘜𝘛 .ᐟㅤ

you swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to simmer down the emotions threatening to overflow.

“heeseung,” you called out softly, your voice strained and breaking slightly as you held back tears.

and finally—he looked up, and you could see the weariness etched into every line of his face.

his tired eyes landed on the table and then on you, a flash of realization crossing his features as he understood what he had missed.

“oh… y/n, i’m so sorry,” he murmured, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“i… completely forgot.”

that was the breaking point. you had tried to be patient, to understand his busy schedule and the demands on his time.

but tonight, on your anniversary, his absence felt like a harsh slap in the face.

the hurt bloomed in your chest, pushing past the barrier you’d built to contain it.

“heeseung.. i know you’re busy,” you said, your voice shaking with the effort to keep calm, “but i can’t keep pretending that i’m okay with being second to everything else in your life.”

his eyes widened at the gravity of your words, and he took a hesitant step toward you.

“y/n, come on, that’s not what i meant—”

“but it feels like it is, heeseung!” you interrupted, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“i’ve been here waiting, trying to be understanding, but it’s like you’re slipping away. it hurts, and i don’t know how much longer i can do this.”

the air between you grew thick with unspoken fears and frustrations, the tension like forcing the two of you to your breaking point.

you could see the guilt wash over heeseung’s face as he processed the impact of his actions—or rather, his absence.

he reached for you, his hands gentle but desperate as they grasped yours.

“please don’t say that,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotions.

“i know, baby— i know i’ve been a mess lately, and i let you down, but i love you. i love you more than anything, y/n, and i can’t lose you.”

you could feel the sincerity in his words, the way his hands trembled slightly as they held yours.

heeseung had always been the calm, composed one, but now, you could see the vulnerability in his eyes—the fear of losing you. it made your heart ache even more.

“i’m so sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. “i never wanted to make you feel like you weren’t important. i’ve just been so caught up in everything, and i didn’t realize how much i was hurting you.”

tears welled in your eyes again, but this time they were from the relief of hearing him acknowledge what you had been feeling for so long.

“i just need to know that i matter to you, heeseung,” you whispered, leaning into his touch.

“you do,” he whispered back, pulling you into his arms, holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

“you matter more than anything. i’ll do better, i promise. i’ll make time for us, for you.”

you pressed your face into his chest, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, and let out a long, shaky breath.

it wasn’t perfect, but it was enough—for now.

you knew he meant every word, and you could feel the love in his embrace, the way he held you like he never wanted to let go.

“i love you,” you mumbled into his shirt, your voice muffled but heartfelt.

heeseung smiled softly and kissed the top of your head. “i love you too. always.”

୨୧ ‎박종성 ── 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆

it was late, and the shared apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside the opened window.

you and jay had been arguing for what felt like hours— every word felt like another brick in the wall growing between you two, each sentence loaded with a hit of frustration and hurt.

he was pacing the room, hands running through his hair in that agitated way he always did when he didn’t know what to say.

“you don’t get it, jay,” you said, your voice breaking as you tried to keep it steady.

“you don’t even try to let me in anymore. it’s like you’ve shut me out.”

he stopped pacing and turned to face you, his expression hard and agitated.

“you think i’ve shut you out? i’m doing everything i can to keep things together, and you’re telling me i’m not trying?”

his voice had a sharp edge to it, the kind that cut deep because it wasn’t just anger—it was hurt.

but you were hurt too. you had been feeling neglected, like you were no longer a priority in his life.

every time he walked out the door, another piece of your heart went with him.

“you don’t even see me anymore,” you whispered, tears blurring your vision. “it’s like i’m just… here, waiting for you to care again.”

jay’s face fell at your words, the anger draining from him as the reality of what you were saying sank in.

for a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of your quiet sobs and the sound of city traffic outside.

then to your surprise— he moved. slowly, hesitantly, he crossed the room and knelt in front of you, his hands resting gently on your knees.

“y/n, honey…” he began softly, his voice low and thick with emotion,

“i’m so sorry. i didn’t realize… i didn’t know i was making you feel this way.”

you looked down at him, your heart aching at the sight of him like this—so open, so vulnerable.

“i just want you to see me again, jay. i want to feel like i matter.”

“you do matter,” he said quickly, his eyes locking with yours, desperate and pleading.

“you— you matter more than anything, and i’ve been an idiot for not showing you that.”

his hands moved up to cradle your face, wiping away the tears that had fallen.

“i love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“i love you so much, and i’m sorry if i’ve made you feel like you weren’t the most important thing in my life. i’ll fix this. we’ll fix this.”

you took a shaky breath, the weight of his words and the sincerity in his eyes melting away the walls you had built up.

“i love you too, meanie..” you whispered, your voice trembling but a small grin making its way onto the corners of your lips.

jay smiled softly, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“we’re going to be just fine, honey,” he murmured, his lips brushing your skin.

and in that moment, wrapped in his warmth and love, you believed him.

୨୧ ‎심재윤 ── 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐌

the argument with jake had reached a breaking point.

you had never seen him this upset, his normally warm and gentle demeanor replaced by frustration and hurt.

the two of you stood on opposite sides of the living room, the space between you feeling like a brick wall— that neither of you knew how to cross.

“you’re never around anymore,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion.

“it feels like i’m losing you, jake.”

his expression softened for a brief moment, but then his frustration returned.

“i’m trying, y/n. you know i am. but it’s not easy. i don’t know how to be everything at once.”

the tears you had been holding back finally spilled over, and you looked away, your heart aching.

“i just need you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“i need you, jake.”

for a moment, the room was silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air. then, with a heavy sigh, jake crossed the room in a few long strides and pulled you into his arms.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “i’m so sorry, i was being an asshole.”

you buried your face in his chest, the familiar scent of him calming your racing heart.

his arms tightened around you, as if he was afraid to let go.

“i love you,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “i love you so much, and i hate that i’ve made you feel like this.”

you clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt as you whispered back, “i love you too.”

jake kissed the top of your head and pulled back just enough to look into your eyes.

“we’ll figure this out,” he promised softly.

“i’ll be better. we’ll be better.”

and in that moment, as you stood in his arms, you believed that everything would be okay.

୨୧ ‎박성훈 ── 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

the room was eerily quiet, the soft ticking of the clock on the wall being the only sound in the room.

you stood by the window, staring out at the rain as it pattered against the glass.

sunghoon sat on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, head down.

the argument had been brutal—harsher than either of you had anticipated.

it had started small, as it always did. but tonight, the tension had finally snapped.

“you’re so cold lately,” you had said, your voice tight with disappointment.

“you don’t talk to me anymore. you barely even look at me.”

sunghoon’s eyes had flicked toward you, his jaw clenched in that familiar stoic expression.

“i’m just tired, y/n— i honestly don’t know what you want me to say…” he’d replied, his tone dismissive and distant.

“tired?” you had scoffed, crossing your arms.

“that’s always your excuse, sunghoon. you never open up, you never let me in, and i’m tired of it.”

he hadn’t responded right away. instead, he had looked away, as if avoiding your gaze could somehow prevent the inevitable.

but that only made the ache in your chest deepen. the distance between you had grown too wide, and you felt like sunghoon was slipping away from you more and more everyday.

“maybe i just don’t wanna talk to you,” sunghoon had said, his voice low but sharp.

the words had hit you like a punch to the gut. you’d stared at him, stunned, before shaking your head in disbelief.

“what are you saying? that we’re just… done?”

he hadn’t answered. instead, he had looked away again, his silence speaking louder than any words could.

the argument had spiraled from there, both of you saying things you didn’t mean, words laced with hurt and anger.

you had accused him of not caring, of being distant and cold, and he had retaliated by saying that you were too demanding, that he couldn’t always be what you needed him to be.

now, the aftermath of those words hung heavy in the air, and you wondered if this was it—if this was the moment everything would fall apart.

you heard sunghoon shift on the couch, his movements hesitant. “y/n,” he finally spoke, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. “i’m.. sorry.”

the apology caught you off guard. you turned to face him, your eyes meeting his for the first time since the argument began.

his expression was no longer cold and distant—instead, you saw the vulnerability he always tried to hide, the cracks in the icy exterior he put up as a defense mechanism.

“i didn’t mean what i said,” sunghoon continued, his voice quiet but hesitant.

“i don’t want to lose you. i just… i don’t know how to be open sometimes. it’s not because i don’t care, it’s because i care too much.”

your heart clenched at his words. sunghoon had always been guarded, preferring to keep his emotions locked away rather than risk being hurt.

but now, as he sat there, looking at you with those dark, warm eyes, you could see how much he was struggling.

you walked over to him slowly, your footsteps echoing in the quiet room.

when you reached him, you knelt in front of the couch, your hands resting gently on his knees.

“i don’t want to lose you either,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

“but i need you to communicate hoon, talk to me— i can’t do this if you constantly keep shutting me out.”

he looked down at you, his gaze softening as he took in your words.

slowly, he reached out and cupped your face in his hands, his touch gentle and firm.

“i’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“i’m scared of messing this up, of hurting you. so i close off because it feels safer that way. but i’m gonna stop— im gonna try, for you.”

tears welled in your eyes at his confession, and you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for a moment to savor the warmth of his hands against your skin.

“you don’t have to be perfect, sunghoon, that’s not what i’m asking at all—” you whispered, your voice cracking.

“i just need you to be honest with me. i love you for who you are, flaws and all.”

his thumbs gently wiped away the tears that had escaped down your cheeks, and he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours.

“i love you too,” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration.

“i’m sorry i’ve been so distant. i’ll try to be better. i’ll try to be the person you deserve.”

you smiled through your tears, your heart swelling with love for him.

“that’s all i ask,” you whispered, your voice soft and full of warmth.

sunghoon pulled you into his arms then, wrapping you in his embrace as if he never wanted to let go.

you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time in a long while, you felt the tension between you dissolve.

in its place, there was only love—pure, unguarded, and real.

© won4kiss 2024

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[sjyuns]

NO DOUBT、I LOVE YOU! — ENHYPEN MEMBERS TELLING YOU THAT YOU’RE THE ONE!

hyung line!enhypen x fem reader 1000+ words warning kissing pet names jealousy drinking genre fluff, slightly suggestive mikaela’s note happy comeback! i jumped the moment niki sang the chorus. i got carried away as the members progress haha (jake i want you so bad) | collection

LEE HEESEUNG

The unfamiliar feeling of deep green envy bubbles up your chest and straight into your heart as you stare at your boyfriend — who’s familiar lean figure is nestled between Jay and another girl you’ve yet to get to know. And yet here you are by yourself, swept in coldness by the absence of your boyfriend by your side.

It was the first time you and Heeseung had argued since you got together five months ago — a rather long honeymoon phase. Your teeth gnaw fervently on your lips in slight panic, eyes glued on your boyfriend’s figure, overall too consumed with jealousy to notice his lack of comfort.

Even though Heeseung sits squished between two people, the lack of you makes his heart feel cold. And he notices the way your tongue sweeps over your lips, eyes darting away every time your gaze catches his. It’s too cute the way you’re obviously jealous.

“You jealous, baby?” Heeseung whispers, as he pulls you into an empty room, leaving his friend behind, “no need to be, you’re the only one that I want.”

Your lips part ever so slightly at the sudden confession, and Heeseung takes the chance to pull you in, placing his lips on your pillowy ones — slightly swollen from the constant biting. And the ever familiar feeling of his warmth returns back to your heart where it belongs.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, head dipped down,“I should have listened to you first before jumping into conclusions.” Soft fingertips dance against the skin of your chin as he lifts your head up to kiss you yet again. “I’m sorry baby, I should’ve told you before.”

“I love you.”

PARK JONGSEONG

Your footsteps are hurried as you rush into the nearby pub, eyes scanning around for your boyfriend, only to find him slumped in a corner — eyes half opened, slick backed hair with strands poking out, and tie half undone. His head drooping side to side as his mouth muttered incoherently.

“Thanks for coming, he wouldn’t stop blabbering about you,” Jake said, moving over to give you space to sit next to Jay. He opens his eyes at the arrival of a new touch, cheeks flushed a shade or coral red and eyes glimmering at the sight of you.

“Love,” he speaks out, face housing an uncontrollable, geeky grin as he stares into you, and your heart pumps irregularly in the name of love. “I love you,” he says, fingers tracing your features from your eyes to your lips — and it’s almost like he’s casting a spell the way his touch is so gently intricate.

“I love you, love,” this time he says it more firmly, as if it was a proven fact, something he had known for a long time. And you stare at him, entranced at his very rawness of love, smiling goofily at a side of your boyfriend you don’t see too often.

“Are you not going to say it back?” He frowns, eyebrows furrowed as strands of hair fall back onto his sweaty forehead.

“I love you too.”

SIM JAEYUN

You absolutely regret introducing your friends to Sim Jaeyun with the way they’re clamouring around him, eager to get to know him more — as if you weren’t the one to know him first. His signature styled hair and thick black rimmed glasses that sit perfectly on his nose — the very features that lured you in once now irked you to your very core.

“Where did you get the hot nerd from,” your friend squeals, “can you link me up with him? Heard he’s single.” Your jaw clenches, lips tightly shut as you give her a small smile. Your heart eager to correct her yet your mind telling you to slow down, that you and Jake were nothing other than just friends.

“Sorry, think you heard wrong,” an arm swings over your shoulder, pulling your body closer to his, “this one’s got me.” The deep aussie accent puts you into a daze once again as your head swivels over to look at Jake, lips brushing against his face from the lack of space between the two of you.

“Isn’t that right, princess?” He asks, a mischievous glint in his eye. And all you can do is nod as she leaves the both of you alone.

“Jake? We aren’t in a relationship,” you state, head tilted slightly. And Sim Jaeyun has never seen someone as adorable as you look right now.

“Now that everyone thinks we are, we might as well right?” The cheeky glint in his eyes never leaving as his fingers move to tuck strands of hairs behind your ear, eyes darting from your lips to your eyes and back before moving closer to press his lips onto yours.

“Now that you’ve kissed me, i’m yours forever baby.”

PARK SUNGHOON

Being roommates with the devil’s incarnate might be the harder thing on earth, not to mention how insanely hot he is. The underlying tension and long gazes at each other makes it hard to breathe even in the familiarity of your own house. He invades all your senses — from simple habits of walking around topless to his teasing comments that leave you flustered.

“Leaving so soon?” Sunghoon questions as he steps into the kitchen with you, away from the dining room full of his friends. “Don’t like me that much?” He grins, sharp canine fangs on display.

“Yeah that, and also i’m tired,” you answer back, holding back a yawn of your own. Sunghoon feels his heart sink slightly at the thought of your absence in tonight’s round of gaming — the smile you have when he lets you win. “I’m going to bed now,” you tell him, turning your back around.

“Where’s my goodnight kiss,” he jokes, leaning over the counter, lean muscles on full display under the tank he’s donned. You turn back, face red and flustered at the sudden direct comment — you’ve always thought that Sunghoon was good looking, yet you’ve never really made a move given your relationship as roommates.

“I’m not giving you a goodnight kiss, Hoon,” you lament, tossing the idea of him flirting with you out of your mind. “So you want me to give you a goodnight kiss?” Sunghoon asks, his tone void of any mischief, as his eyes stare into yours with some kind of want.

And suddenly it’s quiet, the muffled laughter from the dining room gone, leaving the two of you in serene tension. Sunghoon’s ring clad fingers dancing against the slight revelation of your waist, cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth between you two.

He bends down to kiss you, and it isn’t a short one off peck — it’s raw and passionate, as if he’s wanted this all his life. And when it finally breaks off, the two of you are left gasping for air.

“I like you,” he says, breathless, “actually I think i might be in love with you.”

This time you pull him into you.

© SJYUNS

[aklaustaleteller]

Could you make an imagine where Klaus Mikaelson is the father figure to the reader despite not being her real dad? And her birth father came back trying to take her but Klaus wouldn’t stand for it and wouldn’t let him take the reader?

Home

Klaus had just been taking a stroll through the woods when he finds himself walking towards the sounds of a beta's broken sobs. Seeing the little abandoned wolf, Klaus takes her home with him, hoping that he'd be able to become her safe place -- which he very successfully does. But what happens when Y/n's biological father returns after ages in hopes of getting her back?

Warnings - None really, other than the fact that it's quite sad (but with happy outcomes I promise <3)

Word Count - 4.0k

Masterlist | please reblog the fic if you like it!

I'm so so so sorry for my absence the past whole week but hey, this is quite literally a 4k worded fic! So hopefully that makes up for it? (Also, thank you for the request, lovely anon. Please do tell me if you like it!!)

Also! I took the idea of Y/n's wolf being a little out of control from this very very amazing fic written by the truly talented @klausysworld Please do give the fic a read, if you haven't already that is, hahah <3

Klaus had been taking a stroll through the woods, his feet carrying him just about anywhere while his mind sped through thoughts a million miles an hour. He made plans, then backed them up with another one, and then made another one, just in case. And he'd just lifted his leg to cross over a fallen tree when his body came to an unnatural halt.

He was never caught off guard, but right now, as he heard hushed sobs and a heart that was beating in a painfully broken rhythm, he couldn't help but gently continue his stroll – in a particular direction with an aim, this time.

His head tilted as he neared the source of the sound, his nose picking up on a beta scent. It had been way too long since he had come across a beta, his major interactions occurring with either other Alphas or Omegas, or Vampires. As well as some other species that rather got on his nerves, such as the witches. It intrigued him.

From quite afar, his eyes finally caught sight of a rather small frame crouched against the rough bark of a tree, a jerk shaking their body every time their back accidently met with it, followed by another painful but gritted howl.

But what made Klaus' frown deepen even further, was the sight of wolf ears growing from the person's head. He felt as though his eyes were deceiving him; he had never come across something like this and if he wasn't mistaken, he was pretty sure that this was just an untrained little wolf -- or perhaps it was the strangeness making him think that there couldn't possibly be another mythical creature that was actually all too real.

So, he walked closer, his head a little ducked and shoulders bunched up on either side of his neck as he tried not to make any sound as that would surely startle the ...child, he realised.

The little frame, sobbing into their hands with their knees bunched up against their torso, belonged to a child. A werewolf child who was beginning to lose control of their wolf, and just then Klaus noticed a tail curling up against the little one's back in order to provide comfort.

He flinched when some wood broke unde his step, alerting the little girl and his heart cracked like a drought-stricken land when she jerked and looked up at him with eyes so big, full of fear swarming them and so much sadness that he could drown in it and not be found.

She immediately backed up into the tree, hissing sharply when her back met the unruly surface but not once did her eyes move away from him. Her lips trembled, a fat tear rolling down her cheek against her will and Klaus noted that the girl could not be older than a decade.

Taking another step towards her, Klaus froze when her wolf ears went back in, and a sob broke out of her mouth.

"Please, sir! I will do whatever you ask of me, but please don't hurt me," she shouted at him, fully breaking down into heart wrenching sobs as she tried to get up on wobbly legs but fell to the ground right away due to the tremor coursing through her body.

Tears blurred his vision for a second before he took the final step toward her which brought him close enough to sit on his knees beside her and rest his hand on her head.

"It's alright, little wolf. I'm not here to harm you," Klaus whispered, feeling her body falling into shambles under his touch. But when she looked up at him with uncertainty in her eyes, he couldn't help but pass her a reassuring smile.

"You are safe with me, sweetheart," he said, now weaving his hand across her forehead to brush away the hair that stuck to it. "Yes?" He asked her with a soft nod, bringing her closer to his chest when she too, nodded. Her eyes were still uncertain but he could tell that it won't take long for her to let go.

This was a child, full of enough naivety to trust a stranger and Klaus was more than glad that he’d found her before someone else could’ve. And maybe his Alpha scent provided her with the extra comfort that she most likely needed, but Klaus wasn’t complaining.

So he rested his back against the tree this time and let her sit in his lap, his arms around her in a way that cocooned her away from whatever that had pained her so terribly, and ready to protect her from anything that came her way with poisonous intentions.

His heart clenched inside his chest when the little girl curled up against him, finally letting the sobs rake through her body and for all the sadness to cause havoc inside her little heart before it left her alone for good.

And for some reason, Klaus just knew to avoid her back. It was clear that she was hurt over there somehow, making him rub his hand up and down her arm instead, and rock the two of them side to side for a little bit. Slowly and slowly, her wails turned into softer sobs and then finally, Klaus heard her heartbeat go back to a normal pace again.

He looked down to see if she'd cried it all out, wanting her to tell him about the culprit who had hurt her like this but when he found that she had slipped into a deep, peaceful slumber, he didn't even think once before carrying her home with him, covering her up under his duvet while he sat on the sofa across the bed, looking at her and telling himself that there was no way he was going to be able to let her go.

He just felt something between them, something that brought them closer in a way he had never experienced before. He felt like he was supposed to love her, care for her, teach her all about the world and show her the wonders. He felt like taking her responsibility, giving her his last name and raising her protected from the world.

Perhaps it was because he, somewhere, saw his inner child in her. The child that so helplessly begged for just some love from his father and got the horrifying abuse instead. 

Klaus wanted to take her under his wing and be there for her while she grew up. He wanted this very clearly abandoned little wolf to call him her father, and his brothers her uncles and his sisters her aunts.

He couldn't sleep all night, fearing that she'd wake up and ask for her actual parents. And he knew he'd take her back in an instant if she wanted to, but it would tear him apart into uncountable and unrecognisable shreds.

And so, he waited all night for her to wake up and hopefully deny him when he'd ask her if she wanted to go back home. And Klaus would go to hell and back to build her a home; to become her home.  

But despite his stubborn decision to stay up and look after her, Klaus awoke to something soft and comforting touching his whatever exposed skin. And as he cracked open his eyes, the sunlight was already pouring inside his room and one of his blankets was draped over him. And he knew it hadn’t been on him for long as he had felt it sliding across his frame, and yet he couldn’t catch sight of the carer. 

That was, until he began getting up and he looked down to find the little girl, sitting beside his feet and looking up at him with doe eyes full of ...joy. He noted that the girl was happy to see that he was finally awake, her heartbeat picking up just a little as a smile slid on her mouth. 

“Thank you, Alpha,” the girl mumbled shyly, placing her hands on his knees while she began standing up. And Klaus’ arms instantly went ahead in order to prevent her from falling but she didn’t stumble once, reminding him that she probably had werewolf healing powers that performed with a slight delay due to her young age. 

Klaus opened his mouth to say something but when the girl warily wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on the very tip of her toes to do so, he found himself caught off guard, once again. But regardless, he hugged her back rather tightly, lifting her off the ground and bringing her on the sofa. 

“Are you okay now, little wolf? Does it still hurt?” Klaus asked her, one of his hands cupping her face while the other cradled her. And his heart swooned when she curled up on him just like the night prior, but this time only soft breaths passed through her mouth. 

“The wounds have healed, Alpha,” she mumbled, almost hiding her face by tucking it away in his chest. “But my heart still hurts, I think,” her voice wavered as she confessed, now clenching his henley in her fist due to the unease it brought to her.

“Oh, little wolf,” Klaus sighed, his eyebrows turned into an upside down frown as he looked upon her with pity. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” He whispered, cautious so she wouldn’t shut him off, even though she was too young to know of such a thing.

“My father, he – he kicked me out of the pack yesterday,” she told him with a quivering voice, tears beginning to pool in her eyes once again. “He told me – he said that he doesn’t love me… that – that he never has!” She cried out, a sob aching her throat and wrapping itself around it so tightly that it was almost beginning to choke her. 

“He said he doesn’t love me,” she repeated, her body now shaking in Klaus arms as his heart crumpled inside his chest as he noted just how much she cared and felt, and that she was having to relive it again right now. 

“Why did he kick you out, darling?” Klaus asked, wanting to end her misery and just a one line answer would be enough for him to go over and slaughter the entire pack.

“He wanted me to learn how to handle the pack once he wouldn’t be there anymore, how – how to be an Alpha,” she told him, tears flowing out of her eyes that had now grown bloodshot red. 

And just then, her ears popped out of her head once again, and Klaus couldn’t help but pet the welted ears in order to help her calm down. 

“But I didn’t want to! I – I don’t want to take charge after him!” She told Klaus, this time her voice changed its tone to be more convincing and desperate. She sat upright, trying to show Klaus just how much she’d rather work behind the scenes than take the lead officially.

“It’s okay, little wolf – you won’t have to anymore,” Klaus reassured the girl, weaving his fingers through her hair and pressing a kiss on her forehead. “You’ll be here with me, safe and sound, and I will love you, sweetheart,” he whispered, looking into her eys with the purest sincerity.

“I truly love you, little wolf,” Klaus said softly at recieving a questioning look from her, asking if he honestly meant what he was saying. “And I will always show you love.”

She brightened up at that, the shine of a couple stars returning to her eyes as she got up, but then saddened again. “But what about home?” She asked, her tears beginning to dry up on her cheeks as she wiped them away. 

“Do you wish to go home?”

“No,” she trailed off, looking away from his eyes as if guilty, causing Klasu to cup her cheeks and turn her back to face him. 

“Then I’ll be your home, little wolf,” he smiled at her. “Yes?” 

The girl nodded, quickly leaning in to press a kiss on his dimpled cheek. 

“What’s your name, darling?” 

“Y/n, Alpha,” she answered him, and Klaus wanted more than anything for her to call him her father or dad, but knew that he should give her some time. 

“Lovely,” he grinned, taking her in his arms and getting up to let her in the shower and then introduce her to the rest of the Mikaelsons. 

And it wasn’t long before Klaus found himself officially adopting Y/n, making her  a Mikaelson and his heart had swollen inside his ribs when she’d so shyly asked him if she could finally call him her father. 

Over the first couple months only Klaus noticed that her gentle and empathetic nature valued deep and personal connections with people over power and attention. He also learned that the reason she hid her high intelligence and outstandingness in whatever field she chose, was because that was simply ingrained in her beta personality. 

So, gradually, books all about betas began to fill shelves in their library quarter of the house. 

“Father!” Came in a shrieking voice, followed by his ears picking up on a rapid heartbeat and he was out of the bed in an instant, checking her over to see if she was hurt and he only shook his head when he found that Kol had just been chasing her around the house, early in the morning to keep her interest while Freya made breakfast for her. 

“Good morning, little wolf,” Klaus grinned, picking her up off the ground and spinning with her in his hold, pressing as many kisses as he could all over her face as she pressed her palm against his face to keep his stubble away.

Loud giggles and squeaks echoed throughout the mansion as Klaus brought her back to bed with him, letting her lay on top of him.

It quite hurt him that she was too tall to curl up on him now, but it still felt good when her heart pressed up against his despite the many layers of bones and skin and clothing keeping them apart. 

“Uncle Kol was chasing me with his vampire speed! Tell him that that’s not fair!” She whined, looking pointedly at Kol who was shaking his head at the door. 

“You’re a wolf, little one,” Klaus began, pulling her attention back on him. “You can outrun anyone,” he smiled. 

Y/n contemplated that for a second before she moved to sit upright beside him with a pout on her mouth. “Anyone but you, father.”

Klaus laughed at that, tackling her back into bed. “You do not wish to outrun me, now do you, little wolf?” He asked her, getting out of bed and letting her cling to him on his chest as he went downstairs. He knew that as a wolf, she preferred to nuzzle anywhere she found warmth, and that his chest was one of her favourite places. 

Sitting her down on the chair next to him, Klaus let her eat her food by herself. Sure, the honey did drizzle down her chin once but he didn’t mind, instantly cleaning it up with his thumb before it could’ve slipped down any further. 

Elijah asked her questions about the storybook he had bought her a couple days prior, Rebekah asked her if the girl wanted to help her aunt pick out a dress, Kol warned her against it by threatening to chase her and Freya smacked all of them on the back of their heads, telling them off to let you eat.

“Father, are you free to paint with me after this?” Y/n asked, looking at him with eyes that had truly unintentionally turned similar to a little puppy’s. 

Klaus finished his food, noting another thing that her shyness had truly dissipated into thin air. And all that it had left behind was politeness and some convincing eyes that could get the devil to let go of a deal.

“Of course, Y/n,” he smiled, getting up and grinning when she trotted behind him happily with her own empty plate in her hand. He watched as she put it in the sink and washed her hands and mouth, letting her chug down her orange juice for once as he wiped his own mouth. 

Once again, she followed him back inside his studio like a lost puppy. Klaus came back out with the heavier and the majority of supplies in his hands while Y/n skipped behind him with the paints and the brushes in hers.

Walking into the front yard, Klaus set down all of their stuff and sat himself in front of her, chuckling when he noticed that she’d already begun twirling her brush around on her canvas, not a single thought in her mind as she let out anything that flashed in front of her eyes, onto the paper. 

Klaus on the other hand, decided to make a painting of colours chosen from her hair. Every colour he saw in the midst of her hair strands, he put it on his canvas, slowly and slowly morphing into a tree’s bark.

And when he checked upon her canvas to see where her painting was going, he felt his dimples dig inside his cheeks at the sight of every and any shade of green that she could find – perhaps in his eyes, Klaus realized when she raised her head to look into his eyes and went back to working. 

Almost all of his days went like this, waking up to her running into his room after having had a shower, holding her in his arms for a little then taking her down for breakfast, where she would convince him to paint with her for a little.

After that he’d let her go off with Eilajh to read and learn some other things by Freya that she probably needed to learn. He would be out of the mansion during that, out to mind his business and kill his own minions because of their brave stupidity. 

When he’d return to the mansion, Y/n would sleepily trod out of her bed and into his arms, let him pick her up and take her to bed where he’d just hold her and tell her how much he loved her, because someone had probably already read her a story or two. 

Some nights she would wake up crying from a nightmare about her biological father, and then she would find herself running into Klaus’ arms which were already open, having heard her rushed footsteps and broken sobs. 

Her wolf ears no longer popped out since Klaus had spent an insurmountable time helping her take her wolf under her control, but every once in a while, depending upon how bad the nightmare was, her tail would creep out of her shirt and curl itself either around Klaus’ arms or her own back, which Klaus didn’t object at seeing that she only did this when she was crying in his arms.

But once they’d finish painting, Y/n would run into the house with her and Klaus’ painting to show them off to her uncles and aunts, leaving Klaus behind to clean up the mess. But he didn’t mind it one bit, only laughing when she’d come back looking guilty and saying that she was sorry that she’d once again forgotten to help him clean up in her excitement. 

And that’s exactly what had happened just now. 

“It’s okay little wolf,” Klaus assured her. “You know I don’t mind it,” he said and let her hug him to show him just how bad she felt.

He rubbed her back, and got up with her hand in his, looking down at the back of her head and smiling as she led their way back inside. 

“Wait father!” She paused her walking. “Look, the weather has taken a turn,” she stated, pointing at the sky in which angry clouds had begun swirling, the fluffy white ones long gone. 

“Does that mean it’s reading time?” 

“Yes!” The girl shrieked, jumping up and down, making Klaus laugh as she ran off to meet up with Elijah. 

He caught himself grinning long after she had left his line of sight and shook his head, a smile still pasted on his mouth as he turned around to rule over the so-called supernatural adults whom even Y/n was smarter than. 

“I see you’ve taken a liking to playing her father, Niklaus,” a rough voice said from behind, and while it hadn’t caught Klaus off guard, what had was the fact that this man was brave and dumb enough to step a foot in such close proximity to him. 

Surely, he must have come with a death wish. 

“Roman,” Klaus said out loud the name of Y/n’s biological father, his voice full of venom and he could’ve spat at the man in front of him. “I see you’re feeling daring today, perhaps even like dying?” He proposed, taking a threatening step towards the man. 

Klaus had, the very next night of when he’d found Y/n, went on to slaughter Roman’s entire pack. He had let the man live since he wanted him to see and live through his own daughter's hatred towards him. So much hatred that she didn’t even look his way anymore, let alone call him her father.

“Let’s not get this messy, Niklaus,” Roman started but before he could’ve finished, Klaus had him pinned against the very door frame he was leaning so cockily on. 

“I’m not your friend, Roman,” he gritted through his teeth, knowing that he didn’t need to clarify any further as to what he meant by that. 

“Sir,” Roman started, stretching his neck. “I want my daughter back,” he said.

Red flashed in front of Klaus’ eyes as he sped towards Roman, tearing through his flesh and ribs to clench his heart in his fist. “I would’ve been a fan of such bravery had you not made the mistake of calling her your daughter when she fucking refuses to even recognise you,” Klaus finally spat at him, his grip on his heart so tight that it could burst due to the pressure. 

“I will rip your heart out and shove it down your throat if you dare once again to call my daughter, yours, or call your lame excuse of a self, her father,” he said, pulling on his heart lightly. “She is mine, and I love her and this is her home now.”

“I am her home,” he gritted his teeth so hard that they could’ve shattered. 

Roman’s frame was beginning to get blue, knocking the realisation into Klaus that his hold on his heart was so hard that it was struggling to beat. “Go to the opposite side of the world and never look back here again,” Klaus compelled him, finally taking his hand back out of his chest. 

“Now off you go,” he said, maybe shooed. “I am sure you know that a wolf bite can only be cured by my blood,” he hissed venomously, his eyes shining golden as vampire streaks drew themselves through his skin.

And once Roman had finally sped out, Klaus let out a breath and his heart to rest again, his hands trembling at the thought of what could’ve happened right now had he not been who he truly is. 

Rushing into his room to clean himself off, Klaus rushed back out to Y/n who was currently sitting in front of Elijah. 

“Little wolf!” Klaus called for her as he stood at the doorway of the room, his vision getting blurry when she came running to him with the biggest smile on her face. 

“Yes father? Missed me, didn’t you?” She giggled teasingly, wrapping her arms around him and Klaus couldn’t help but nuzzle in the nape of her neck, holding her tightly against him as he kneeled on the floor and felt a tear slip past the slit of his eyes. 

“I love you, my little wolf,” he said, whimpering. 

“Oh, I love you too, father,” she sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. “You should know that I’ll always be your little wolf.”

“Forever and always, my precious” Klaus breathed, pressing a chaste kiss on her cheek before resting his forehead against it for a moment, breathing in her scent and reminding himself that she’d also become his home now. 

[saphiccarma]

Hi, can you write something where Nicky gets lost in the forest and Rio and Agatha are desperately looking for him, or they find him with a witch in the forest and she's playing and showing her magic to him and it's cute? Please?

- Where Did You Go?

Relationships - Agathario x Reader

Summary - When Nicky goes missing Agatha instinctively panics. She doesn't expect to find him wth a strange witch who has unknown healing powers.

Warnings: None

A/N: Eee this was a fun little thing to help me get rid of the small writers block. Sorry it's not very long, but I hope you enjoy. Requests are still open it may just take me a minute to get to it

One minute, Nicky was right next to her, walking close as he was supposed to, and then he was gone. Panic surged through her as she noticed the absence of his small, and rather frail, form. Agatha had no idea what to do. They were in the middle of nowhere, with no town nearby, so he shouldn't be missing. Her eyes scanned the tree line, the large forces of nature surrounded her on all sides.

Nicky could be anywhere.

"Nicky?" she called, loud enough to attract his attention, but keeping her voice soft even as it broke, "Nicky."

There was no response. Agatha retraced her steps, trying not to let her panic consume her, and kept a careful eye on the tree line in case he magically appeared. Rio couldn't have- he couldn't be- No. She shook her head absently. He couldn't be gone yet.

Dirt was scuffed up as her steps became more frantic, her eyes scanning every inch of the area in front of her. All she was met with was trees that towered over and birds cawing. Desperation clawed at her as she grew more and more worried.

"Nicolas?" By now her panic had turned into something stronger, something raw and real. Her hands started glowing purple, a nervous reaction and a physical reaction to the anxiety that ran through her.

In an act of desperation, Agatha snatched a stick up off the ground, her hand clasping around the rough material. She traced a circle into the ground, adding an X through it and stood outside. The circle glowed bright green, the symbols illuminating the space that was steadily growing darker with the setting sun, before slowly fading. Rio stood in front of her, a flower twirling in her hand as she eyed the circle on the ground. Her feet scuffed it up, breaking the spell that trapped her inside and she stepped out.

"You called?" she asked, quirking a brow. The flower, a bright pink one, spun between her fingers as she took a step closer to Agatha.

She clenched her jaw and forced the words out, "I can't find Nicky."

Rio pinched the flower, one of the petals falling to the ground.

"You lost him?"

"I didn't lose him," Agatha snapped, purple flaring around her fingers. Rio eyed it with a hint of nerves, not for herself but for Agatha. The younger witch took a deep breath, reigning in her powers, and repeated her statement, "I didn't lose him."

"Hm," Rio hummed. She slid the flower into Agatha's hair, not caring for the other woman's scowl and the fury that radiated off her in waves. Taking off skipping, Rio moved through the woods, something pulling her towards Nicky.

There was always something pulling her towards him, a sense of death that kept her tethered to him. Rio never knew if it was because he was her son, or because he was meant to be dead. She didn't want to find out. The woods were getting darker the longer they went on, and Rio could hear Agatha clenching her hands impatiently as she trailed behind. As the force that was pulling her towards Nicky grew stronger, Rio felt another force of magic.

It was...soft. A soothing feeling that washed over her, calming all her worries and made it seem as if she had no responsibilities. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Agatha relax, hands falling limp at her sides and jaw unclenching.

She pressed forwards, stomping through bushes, but promptly stopping at the sight she was met with. A woman stood there; a green dress not so different from Rio's own covered her form as her hair covered her eyes. A red ball of magic swirled in her hand as she made shapes and figures with it, a small smile on her face as her tongue stuck out in concentration and she twisted her fingers. She looked so innocent. Untouched by the dangers of the world.

The magic, heat radiating from it so strongly Rio could feel it from here kept Nicky's attention. He didn't notice his mother's approaching. Flaring up in a way that could be compared to a flame, the magic wrapped around the two of them, and Nicky giggled loudly. It was a joyous sound that Rio wished she would hear more often.

But that joy was snuffed out when he coughed, hunching over and burying his face into his elbow. The other witch, with her red magic and innocent face, leaned forward and placed a hand on his back. It glowed a soft red, not like the strong color it was moments ago, and Nicky's coughing stopped. He looked at her with awe coating his face.

There was a knowing glint to her eyes as she glanced up at Rio, the smile on her face shifting from innocent to teasing. Her eyes flickered towards Nicky then back to Agatha and Rio. The woman paused in her magic making, making Nicky pout, his arms crossing.

"I am sorry," you said softly, "Your mothers are here."

The child, you think his name is Nicky, snapped his head around, his eyes locking onto Agatha's. You stood and out of the corner of your eye say Nicky's sheepish smile. He waved at his mothers.

"Hi mama, mami." He sprinted towards Death, a sight that you never thought you would see, and launched himself into her arms. Death herself laughed, burying her face in the child's hair and planting a soft kiss there. Even if she embraced him happily, you could feel the tension rolling off her in waves, unease etched into every one of her features.

"Hello my love," she said quietly, almost so softly you didn't hear it.

The other witch, one you didn't know, but you could feel the motherly presence radiating off her, eyed you suspiciously. You waved a hand in greeting, red still twirling around it as if it had a mind of its own. She eyed it like it would set the whole forest alight. It could if you wanted it to.

"Who are you?" the unknown witch asked, her voice terse and strained.

You smiled softly, "Y/N, protection witch."

"Fire," Nicky whispered softly, wiggling out of his mother's grasp and taking a hold of one of your hands, "Show them? Pleaseeeee?" He made his eyes wide, staring up at you with a puckered lip. You laughed, gently tugging your hand out of his grip and sparking a small flame to life in it.

Death eyed you oddly, her eyes transfixed on the fire while the other witch tugged her son closer, a protective arm rested on his shoulder. Wiggling your fingers with a small smirk, you put the fire out, dropping your hand to your side.

"Fire," you repeated.

"Who are you?" The unknown witch asked, and you smiled brightly. You glanced at Nicky who stood at your side, wide eyes imploring and innocent as they stared at you. But you knew he had seen so much more than he let on.

His sickness wasn't hard to notice, with the way he hunched over and even at a young age had dark bags under his eyes. Both women looked at him like he was such a fragile thing, ready to break at a moment’s notice. But most of all, you could just feel the death he gave off. Death shrouded him like a large coat. You knew that you could rid him of the death that clung to him stubbornly, cure him of whatever illness plauged him.

"Like I said, my name is Y/N. I'm a protection witch."

[saerins]

𝐒𝐀𝐄 // 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒: 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓

+ sae x f!reader | wc 5k | content: angst to fluff, breakups, exbf!sae, exes to lovers

notes: this is the alternate ending to conversations ! (requested by one of my anons) i’m so sorry this took so long !!! and i’m 100% sure you did not expect me to write anything this long but i’m sorry my hand slipped >_< again … i’m super rusty but i hope you guys still like this ^_^

summary: sae’s willing to throw everything else away to prove that out of everything in his life, you’re the one sure thing he needs. problem is, will you accept him after what he’s done?

he’s sorry.

he repeats it in his head, over and over again, his fingers almost numb from repeatedly pressing the call button on your number—over and over and over again.

sorry, sorry, sorry.

it’s no use, he knows. it’s why he’s here—why he’s taking a flight, bare-handed, back to japan, back to home, back to you.

“please switch off your phone, sir,” the flight attendant says politely, dutily, as the plane starts to move.

begrudgingly, he resigns, but the moment he starts hearing your voicemail message play, he sighs, speaking into the receiver.

“look, i know i fucked up and it was stupid of me to keep it from you. i’m sorry, okay? and i know you don’t want to speak to me right now but i can’t just sit around and do nothing. i love you, so i’m coming back home, and we’ll talk, and then… i promise you, nothing like this will happen again.”

yes, because he’ll make sure of that. he’ll make sure he doesn’t make decisions like a stupid teenage boy and he’ll make sure to trust you at every turn instead of trying to hide anything from you because you’re right. never in the course of your relationship did you ever doubt sae.

which is a feat. because given his profession and status, any number of girls would’ve been distrusting had they been in your position. not that sae knows, what can he say he knows about girls? nothing, apparently. after today, that much is sure.

as he turns his phone on aeroplane mode, he throws his head back and looks out of the plane window. less than a day till he’ll be there to see you in person. he’s not sure if you’re going to even want to see him, but he’ll try. you deserve that much, at least.

in his head, the same words repeat over and over again.

i’m sorry.

i love you.

you’re all i ever want.

by the time sae’s plane touches down, it’s night time in japan, close to midnight. you should be resting, probably tired out from crying; he can imagine, because stupid as he may be, he can at least say he knows you this much.

your words can be hard, cold, cruel, but you never are. you’re all soft inside, and you’d rather face your emotions alone than let anyone know how you feel. at least, when those emotions concern sae. you’ll keep them to yourself and keep crying, day after day, until you can’t find it in yourself to care anymore.

passport in one hand, his phone in another, he whisks off toward the taxi stand, mind in a mess because his phone’s now ringing with messages from everyone that isn’t you, probably concerning his absence from the last match of the tournament.

fuck the final match.

you probably thought he’ll play anyway. that he’ll play the match, and only afterwards would he attempt things further with you.

funnily enough, that’s what sae used to think too. before any of this happened. never in his life did he think he’d sooner rather sabotage his own career than lose you. it’s laughable, really, how much he’s so afraid of losing you that it clouds his judgement.

he should’ve been honest with you from the start instead of letting you find out on your own. it was that easy.

“could you step on it, please?” sae sighs, irritated at everything keeping him from you; the distance, the traffic, the stupidity.

the taxi driver narrows his gaze at sae through the rear view mirror, clearly annoyed. “i’d rather not get a ticket,” he replies monotonously, and sae sees that he’s driving at the speed limit. “wouldn’t want to get into an accident, would you?”

well, if he did, that would put a real hamper in his plans, so sae just shuts up and switches off his phone. none of them are you anyway. there’s no point.

as he stares out the window at the now-quiet city, he finds that, for the first time, he’s afraid of losing everything.

mira [7.28pm]: make sure you get enough rest! bought some soup for you in case you haven’t eaten :)

you look at the time now—12.14am. fuck, did you really sleep the entire day away?

the sliver of moonlight that shines through your blinds is all you see next to the pitter patter of the heavy rain against your window. it’s pathetic, really, for you to take a day off just because of that argument (if you can really call it that) the night before. you couldn’t bring yourself to even watch his game like you’d promised him you always would, once upon a time.

something tells you that he should expect that, though. even without watching his game, you know they’d win. sae has always been magical like that, being the playmaker he is. you imagine he’s probably with his team now, celebrating the win. or are they asleep right now? you never could get used to the time difference. it’s too much of a headache.

aside from mira, you see a voicemail message in your inbox. from sae. it makes your heart skip a beat. are you even ready to hear him and whatever he has to say? it’s why you’d been avoiding him since yesterday—you’re afraid you’re just going to crumble and forgive and get taken advantage of. it threatens to spin the same old story you’ve always known.

you click on it anyway.

“look, i know i fucked up and it was stupid of me to keep it from you. i’m sorry, okay? and i know you don’t want to speak to me right now but i can’t just sit around and do nothing. i love you, so i’m coming back home, and we’ll talk, and then… i promise you, nothing like this will happen again.”

will it though? how much can you trust his words after he already failed once? it makes you think twice, no matter how badly you want to forgive him because you do believe him. it’s most likely nothing, and what he said is most likely true, but it makes you upset that he thought of hiding such a thing from you.

just as you toss your phone aside, you hear a series of urgent knocks on your door, the thunder ruthless outside. slowly, you get up, dragging your feet against the hardwood floors and flinching a little as you hear how loud the banging is. you’re half afraid and half agitated, halfway between hiding yourself under the covers and threatening to kill whoever it is outside.

but then you swing the door open and you’re met with that pair of teal eyes you’ve always loved, his bangs matted against his face as he pants, the rainwater drenching him from head to toe.

“y/n,” he calls out, as though it’s been ages since he last heard from you. it’s only been a day, but it’s enough to make sae feel as though it’s been forever.

you’re a little shocked, your brain trying to process every single question that comes to mind.

is that really him? why isn’t he in spain? if he played the game, the timeline doesn’t add up—how did he get here so fast? is this actually a dream? holy crap it feels so real, though? why isn’t he saying anything?

“s-sae?”

you’re not even sure if you said that out loud—you’re a little too shocked to make sense of anything right now. but the moment the corner of his lips tug upward, revealing that lopsided smile you love, you know it’s real.

he’s here.

“i… came to talk,” is all he can say. he’s tired from running up the stairs. apparently tonight, everything was against him. there was an accident right at the street before the corner of your apartment, so he’d had to end the trip early and start running for it. by the time he got here, the elevators for your block were all undergoing maintenance and unusable. but fuck if twenty flights of stairs are enough to make him turn away.

you’re blinking a lot, as if you find it unbelievable that he’s here in the first place, but you nod anyway and step aside to let him in, wet clothes and all.

“how was work today?”

it’s definitely not what he came here from spain to talk about but you entertain it anyway.

“didn’t go,” you tell him, a little coldly, but you think he deserves that much, at least. “how was the game?”

“don’t know, didn’t go.”

you two are similar that way.

“why not?”

“i had other important things to do.”

“you do? pray tell.”

it’s the first time sae’s hearing you like this and he’s sure now that he never wants to make you like this ever again—going against your nature.

it’s lame, and overused, and you deserve an essay for why he shouldn’t and wouldn’t ever do this again to you but it’s sae and he’s never sure what’s good in these situations so all he can manage to say is, “i’m so sorry.”

you cross your arms as the both of you stand in your dimly-lit living room, the storm raging on outside. it’s not like you don’t know that. that aside, you’re pretty sure he’s the most sorry he’s ever been. and if you were still the same naive girl you used to be ten years ago you probably would’ve forgiven him by now.

but you’re not.

“okay, is that all?”

it’s not what you really want to say. you kind of just want this to be a dream; that picture of him and that random girl with their lips locked, that fight that you had that made you cry to sleep. you wish it was some sort of stupid nightmare that didn’t make him ruin your trust but it did.

sae, on the other hand, seems restless. he’s taken aback, not quite sure how to get through to you because he’s never made a mistake like this before. “just- could you… forgive me?”

the ache you head in his voice breaks you, and you’re sure he can see the tears threatening to spill, but you stand with your choice. “can i? i don’t really know, to be honest,” you respond, voice soft and low, not quite daring to meet his eyes in case you falter.

the contrast between how you were and how you are kicks him in the gut and he has no one to blame but himself. he doesn’t want to, but he can sense where this is going. he’s not stupid, he just… doesn’t want to believe it.

“please… don’t do this?” sae swallows the lump in his throat, the foreign way his heartbeat quickens out of fear stumping him. there’s probably more he should say, but maybe that just wouldn’t be enough anymore. his words can’t find him and he can’t find it in himself to reach out to you. not when he realises you out of all people hate the most for having to do this.

if you just blindly follow your heart, you’d leap in his arms right now, fuck how soaked he is. because you still love him. you know that, and you think maybe he knows it too, but judging by the perplexed look on his face, he probably doesn’t realise it. that’s why your brain does the deciding for you. it had already made its choice the moment you saw that picture, the moment you saw the headlines on that gossip rag.

“i… think we should break up, sae.”

before today, if you’d told yourself that one day, you’d say these words, you wouldn’t believe it. but here you are, breaking up with the love of your life.

sae is just standing in front of you, staring at you, the happy picture of the two of you during your second year anniversary hanging on your wall haunting him this very second. the command he gave his assistant to help him get that ring for you sending him into the pits of despair. he’s so stunned he doesn’t know what to say or do.

“you’re… serious?”

there’s no expression in his eyes. they’re just dull, and dark, and nothing like how you’re used to.

this time, you’re the one trying to force the words out of your mouth, calmly, because you’re afraid that the tears will just spill out. “you’re… you’re the one who told me to be kinder to myself, right?”

sae chuckles softly, helplessly, as he realises you take every word he says to heart.

EIGHT YEARS AGO

it was beyond him why you let yourself be subjected to this. nobody was a saint, but surely you deserved better than to be treated like trash?

sae understood a little of where you were coming from. it was hard to let go of a three-year relationship, but having you visit him crying in the middle of the night wasn’t exactly what he would condone.

“you can do better than him, you know that right?”

the words slipped out of his mouth before he knew it. he’d once sworn that he wouldn’t meddle in your relationship, that he’d let you figure it out on your own, but your heartaches were getting too often those days that sae just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

it probably wasn’t the best thing to say to you, considering how you were bawling your eyes out and staining his entire jersey with your tears, but sae was never one to filter his words.

“everyone says that.”

which tells sae you didn’t believe that.

“which means there’s some truth there,” he sighed, leaning back against the couch as you continued to bury your head in his chest. sae saw rin from the corner of the room, peaking out of the hallway and gave him a quick wave to signal him to leave them alone.

“i… don’t know what to do.”

you rarely ever did. having been your friend for the past four years before this taught sae two things: one, you gave your all for your relationship, and two, you were one of the kindest people he’s ever known. (and by extension, it simply meant you knew what had to be done, but you refused to do it.)

sae took a deep breath, eyes gazing up at the ceiling before he resumes, “i don’t know why you let people treat you like that.”

you stayed quiet, sniffling, though it’s getting softer now, so sae continues.

“you know, you’re one of the nicest people i know,” sae told you, fingers absentmindedly stroking your hair—the way he always wanted to but never let himself admit. “which is why it kinda sucks that you’re so stupid to let yourself be hurt by that asshole over and over again.”

the both of you chuckled at that. sae was glad to know you understood he meant only well.

“stop… letting people hurt you and then letting them get away like that, okay?” he said it softly, but you definitely caught it. “be kinder to yourself, fucks sake.”

he felt your fingers curl, gripping at his shirt as you stopped yourself from crying. you looked up at him that night, smiling as your tears dried, and sae remembered telling himself that he’d never want to be the reason you had to feel upset.

“when you say it like that, how can i say no?” you joked, laughing, wiping the last of your tears away. “besides, even if i was still being stupid, i’d always have you with me, right?”

sae remembers.

he remembers not answering you, but he remembers thinking yes, always. and he has a feeling you knew back then too, that sae would always be there for you regardless.

only if it’s you.

maybe even back then, you already knew how he felt for you. and you would always listen to him. you’d always believe in him. now he feels even more stupid for everything that transpired. with his words thrown back at him, he finds himself speechless.

“you’re right,” he replies, voice hoarse, his gaze dropping to the floor. sae was being stupid, and he’s crazy if he thinks he’ll be let off that easy.

you’re sniffling a little, and he does you the courtesy of not looking at you even though you’re already turning away. “i’ll mail you your stuff.”

“it’s fine, i’ll get rin to help me take ‘em.”

it’s a diplomatic breakup. polite, nothing out of line, just two adults deciding that maybe now just isn’t the time.

after a long pause, sae gets the guts to speak. “you know you’re the only one for me, right?” because he feels like maybe you’d been doubting it recently and he doesn’t want you to feel worthless. maybe it has the adverse effect and maybe it’s selfish but he needs you to hear that.

you don’t acknowledge it, and you barely acknowledge him, even as he turns to walk out the door. this time, you’re the one not giving the answer, but sae feels like he knows how you feel anyway. you need time away from him. a proper break from him. so sae leaves wordlessly, clinging on to hope that maybe one day, he’ll be deserving of you again.

the moment sae closes the door, you fall to the floor, wailing into your cushion pillow, having one of the worst nights of your life.

THE NEXT WEEK

annoying jr [10.48am]: oi stupid, i’m here.

—followed by an incessant ringing of your doorbell.

when you groan and swing the front door open, you’re greeted by a smirking rin. at least he hasn’t changed one bit since you’d known him when he was a kid. well, at least not to you.

“did you have to ring it so obnoxiously?” you whine, plopping down on your couch, burying your head in the leather seats.

rin shuts the door behind him, scoffing. “you’re the one who always used to wake up late,” he quips, rolling his eyes (you don’t have to see it, you just know how he’s going to react).

“and someone was always the third party on dates,” you snap back, sticking your tongue out at him.

he deadpans, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “hey, wasn’t my fault my stupid brother kept using me as an excuse to go out.”

right, because back then his parents were a lot more strict than they are now, back before they didn’t know you.

realising that the mood had grown a little somber, rin clears his throat, changing the subject. “how’s work so far?”

you chuckle under your breath, finding it funny how both the brothers’ go-to question is to ask about your work. though, they’ve never been that good in conversations so you can’t blame them.

“it’s fine, promotion period’s coming up so i’m preparing for that,” you respond lacklustrely, getting up off the couch, dragging your feet to your bedroom before resurfacing just ten seconds later, carrying a box full of sae’s things.

it’s full of his clothes, care products and the like, but mostly clothes, because you’d realised you liked to steal his jerseys, wear them like they’re your own, but mostly because they smell like him, remind you of him when he’s not physically around and makes you feel better.

doesn’t make you feel good when you have to pack them up, though. you cried all the way again. pathetically. but rin doesn’t have to know, so you keep up your unbothered facade.

rin takes the box from you, thankfully not mentioning his brother. “hope you get that promotion then,” he says politely, though you sense he might have something else to say that he doesn’t know if he should.

you sigh, because sometimes rin looks like a neglected younger brother and you don’t have the heart to ignore him like sae does sometimes. “go ahead, say what’s on your mind.”

it takes just a moment of hesitation before rin heeds your words. “did you see sae’s interview last night?”

part of you doesn’t want to think about anything related to sae, but most of you still misses him, so it’s a canon event that you still look out for any and every news of him. it’s sad and pathetic and that’s why you make extra care not to mention any of that to anyone.

“nope, was it about their recent win?”

you try to go on as per normal, like sae isn’t just the love of your life that you still wanted.

“mhm.” rin, at least, doesn’t tease you about it. whether he means to or not, you’re grateful for that. “they asked him, though. about that game.” (but of course, you knew that already.)

ah, that game. the game that he abandoned to come find you. the game that led up to your breakup. the game that sae probably had to pay dearly for for knowingly ditching.

“oh, i see. what about it?”

a resigned sigh leaves rin’s lips as he looks at you with the full sincerity of a younger brother concerned with his older brother’s fuckup. “he… really loves you, you know? he’s just… stupid.”

you snort at his last remark, both of you breaking out into a small laughter. it’s bittersweet, thinking about how this might be the last time you see rin, but you’ll probably get over it. you’ll get over this, and sae, and move on someday—now if only you could get yourself to want that.

“i know,” you mutter quietly, deciding that it’s best not to speak too much about it. it’s dumb, considering everything that happened, but his words made you feel relieved, even if just for a second.

just before he leaves, you give him one last hug. “thanks, rin.”

THREE MONTHS LATER

“please don’t give me another heart attack like last time.”

sae huffs, annoyed, although he knows he probably deserves that. his poor assistant went through hell trying to appease everyone on the team due to sae’s last stunt. luckily, there are exceptions made for the best soccer player on the team, so no punishment was dire enough that he had to get kicked.

“i’m just going out for some air.” sae leaves before his assistant can get any words out, entirely too tired today to listen to anything anyone else has to say.

besides, today is a special day.

the moment he’s out of earshot, he calls one of the only contacts on his phone. for some reason, his heart is thumping wildly and his fingers are fiddling with the hem of his windbreaker. the weather is nearing negatives but somehow, he doesn’t feel it.

“hello?”

sae nearly gets a heart attack of his own when a deep, low voice is what he hears, until he realises that he recognises it.

“rin, what’re you doing there?”

he can make out the sadistic chuckle from halfway across the world. “what, disappointed?” (if sae could punch him right now he would.) “relax, we’re just at her birthday dinner and she’s busy,” he explains, though sae doesn’t nearly care about any of that other than the fact that he wants to talk to you.

“where’s y/n?”

“she’s the birthday girl, people are lining up just to take pictures with her,” rin raises his voice over the background, and sae’s never been more frustrated. “she’s taking pics with some handsome guy right now, and he’s got his hands around her waist,” rin whistles right after, and sae can just sense his smugness through the phone.

whether what his brother said was true or not, sae is in no position to be jealous anyway. (even though he is and he’s sporting an unamused frown that’s enough to scare the living daylights out of anyone watching him.)

“wish her happy birthday for me then.”

rin snorts. “sure. disappointed you didn’t get to hear her—” sae hangs up before he can be subjected to anymore of his brother’s nonsense. all he really wanted was to just hear your voice, but he won’t be greedy.

staying friends was already a miracle. that’s only possible because you have a heart of gold, and he knows that if he ever pushes it too much, he might just risk losing you forever and he knows he can’t have that. so for now, this’ll do.

he’ll wait, no matter how long he has to.

later that night, when the moon is high up in spain, sae receives a notification from you. there, attached in your thread is an audio message.

“itoshi sae… thank you.”

the little laugh you leave at the end is enough to make him smile at his phone. he counts his blessings for you, and starts counting down to the days he has left in spain. if he wants you, he needs to go all in.

ONE YEAR LATER

“you ready yet? i’m at your lobby.”

sae can just barely make out your panicked state from the other line. you’re late, and you know he’s fine with waiting, but because you’re a perfectionist, you really really don’t want him to have to.

“yeah, just gimme like, five minutes!” which sae knows translates to i actually need twenty but i’ll rush. there’s a certain satisfaction it gives him—knowing that he knows you in these ways that nobody else can.

“take your time, i have to pump some gas anyway, running low,” he tells you, an excuse which you accept right away because it’s convenient.

sae doesn’t even need any gas. it’s full, so he parks his car by the entrance and waits inside, turning up the air conditioning because he knows you’ll be sweating a little by the time you inevitably still choose to rush down.

it’s exactly one year since the last time he wished you happy birthday (through rin). and this year, he’s happy enough he gets to actually take you out. the past year’s been filled of sae restarting the relationship from ground zero—back to being friends and gradually coming back again to where you are now, dating. sure, it’s taxing having to do it all over again, but he’d do this however many times you want him to.

SIX MONTHS AGO

“hmmm, i dunno how to feel, i kinda like this.”

sae had been calling you up often, and he feels good inside knowing that you might miss him as much as he misses you.

“kinda like what?” he asked, wishing that he could see your expression right now.

“kinda like you chasing me all over again,” you giggled, shameless with your words. “what if i just never agree to be your girlfriend again? what if i just make you chase after me forever?”

he knew for a fact that you weren’t that sadistic, but even so, his answer would still be the same. “then i’ll stick in this phase with you. forever.” although that would render the ring that he bought for you useless.

“oh really?”

sae hummed in faux contemplation. “nah, maybe not. maybe i’ll just ditch you and run off with ryusei or something.”

he got a laugh out of you for that.

“ryusei? not even some other girl, but ryusei?”

sae chuckled—he still remembered his mistake. and he’d never put you in a position to feel that way again. even if you two were just joking around.

“y/n, there’s no one else except you.” he was rarely ever serious like this, especially considering how you bantered as friends, but sometimes, he knew he had to. nowadays, more than anything, he just wanted to know that you had no doubts about how he felt for you.

you didn’t give any response to that, but considering how you started to ease up around him even more after that, sae felt like maybe there was a solid hope there of reviving this after all.

the knock on his window brings him back into the present, your pretty face doing wonders in lighting up his mood.

as you get into the passenger seat, sae steals a glance at you from head to toe—you’re so beautiful and so worth the wait and you’ll always be.

“so, where are you taking me today, mr itoshi sae?”

he leans back against his seat, tilting his head as he looks at you, feigning contemplation. “depends, ms l/n y/n, do you trust me?”

you press your lips into a line, the corners threatening to tug upwards. you’re so adorable that sae’s actually going to go insane but he dons a straight face like he always has because letting you know the power you have over him is more than you need to know.

“i think it’d be a little weird if i couldn’t trust my boyfriend.”

suddenly it’s like time stands still and sae’s hands are stuck on the steering wheel and he’s left staring into space wondering if he heard you right. boyfriend? he turns around to look at you, teal eyes searching your own for answers but all he sees is a smirk on your face—you definitely know the power you have over him.

“wow, want me that bad, huh?” you joke, giggling as you tell him to hit the gas. “i… wasn’t kidding though.”

and as he pulls out of the parking lot, he thinks about the little velvet box that sits in his jacket pocket, thinks about the fact that he’s one of the luckiest people in the world thanks to you. heat rises to his cheeks, and he has to look away from you.

“you know one day you’re still gonna be mrs itoshi, right?”

this time, you laugh—but not like you think it’s a joke, more like the kind where you think was there even any other option? and even then, you offer him assurance.

“there’s nothing i want more.”

[moviecritc]

hii could you write something about lestappen x reader? maybe taking care of max because he is sick? thank you 💕

sick days ⋆ lestappen

pairing: lestappen x reader

summary: after going on a long run in the morning, max ends up sick, but he doesn't accept it

word count: 1.5K

a/n: ok im in love with this, if you guys have more lestappen requests do them!! bc i love writing em <3

english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes and poor storytelling.

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

Another day, Charles and you woke up feeling the absence of a body in your bed.

"Has he gone out for a run again?" you asked as you approached Charles's bare torso.

"I think so," he nodded, his voice sleepy. You leaned against Charles's chest to see the clock on the nightstand, eliciting a groan from one of your boyfriends.

"It's seven in the morning," you said, almost in a groan yourself.

You collapsed onto the bed, planting a kiss where your hand had rested before. You stretched out, and Charles slipped out of bed, putting on one of Max's Red Bull t-shirts. Before leaving the room, he kissed you on the forehead and then on your bare collarbone. You stayed in bed a little longer, dozing off while Charles prepared breakfast, as he did every morning. The winter break was your favorite time of the year. After being stressed all season with work, going back and forth, and spending weeks without seeing them, these months were the best gift.

Your days revolved around having breakfast together when Max returned from his run. Then, you would make love leisurely and shower together. If you felt like it, you would go shopping or play paddle tennis, then return home to cook together. The boys would then train in the sim or at the gym, and you would usually go for a walk with your friends or even train with them. Although when that happened, it often ended up in a long cardio session in bed. And to end the day, you would go out for dinner at some fancy place in Monaco and then drink and dance at a club.

That morning, Max took a little longer to arrive, but when he walked in, it seemed like a cold smoke followed him. It was mid-December, and it had been a cold winter in Monaco.

Max entered the kitchen and kissed Charles and then you. You noticed his outfit. "Aren't you cold, love?" You looked him up and down, with his short shorts and tank top clinging to his body from the cold sweat.

"Nah," he denied, brushing it off and wiping the sweat from his forehead.

You didn't think much of it until you went to open the window in your room and received a gust of cold air from outside. You were attentive to your boyfriend's behavior for the rest of the day, noticing how he had sneezed several times in the last hour or how, after the shower, he seemed even more tired than usual.

At noon, while Charles was preparing pasta for lunch, you went to Max, who was lying on the couch.

"How are you, love?" You sat next to him, intertwining your arm with his, and noticed - or rather heard - as Max sniffed his nose.

"Fine, why'd you ask?" Max furrowed his brow, feigning confusion.

"Oh, no reason," you shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "I just notice you seem tired."

Charles had an ear on the conversation, also noticing that Max was probably brewing something and hadn't mentioned it for some stereotypical nonsense he thought.

"No, no. Don't worry, schat," Max assured. "I'll go help you now."

He leaned in to kiss you, but at that moment, he started coughing heavily. You let out a sweet laugh and went over to Charles.

"Char, I think our Max is getting sick," you nodded, while Charles put an arm around your waist.

"It can't be!" Charles exclaimed, pretending to be surprised.

"No!" Max jumped in immediately, stood up, and practically ran towards them, swaying a little. "I'm not getting sick."

Max let out a heavy breath and leaned on the counter, catching his breath that he had lost in the four steps he had taken.

"I see," Charles commented, walking past him and giving him a gentle pat on the butt.

"Max, why don't you go lie on the couch? We'll take care of this," you suggested with a comforting smile.

Max rolled his eyes in a very exaggerated way and crossed his arms as you and Charles looked at each other and smiled knowingly.

"I'm going to the sim, I can see I'm not wanted here," he said, with a somewhat sad look.

When Max left, Charles and you looked at each other. "Is he mad?" you asked, leaning on Charles's shoulder and hugging him from behind while he cooked.

"Nah, he just thinks he's the strong one in the relationship," He gave you a soft kiss on the forehead.

In all the time you had been together, you had never seen Max weak. You had seen Charles cry and complain countless times over any little thing. But Max? That man seemed like a piece of iron when it came to feelings. He hadn't even cried at the end of How To Train Your Dragon, and although to some extent the image of a strong guy and the pillar of the relationship was fine, you were dying to see his softer side.

Twenty minutes later, Charles had finished cooking the pasta, and you went to the room where the sim set was.

"Charles, come see this," you called. He came immediately, finding Max totally asleep in the chair, with the car crashed in the first curve of the Monaco Grand Prix.

"Do we wake him up?" Charles whispered, looking at him lovingly.

"Wait," You approached him carefully, taking a picture of him. "Okay, wake him up," you smiled.

Charles began to leave soft kisses on Max's cheek and lips, even lightly biting his earlobe. The sleeping man let out a loud gasp and practically jumped up from the chair.

"Hey, easy, easy," Charles said, putting his hands on his shoulders.

"How you doing, sleeping beauty?" you said.

"I wasn't sleeping,"

"Oh, sure not," Charles said, with a little smile. "Wanna come eat with us?"

"Yeah, just give me a minute," Max nodded, stifling a yawn.

Both Charles and you heard him blowing his nose for almost two minutes straight. Max appeared in the living room, trying to pretend he was fine, but his reddened nose gave him away.

He helped set the table. "What are we going to do this afternoon?" the blonde asked before blowing his nose.

Charles and you exchanged glances, knowing that if you didn't do anything, Max would keep insisting he was perfectly fine.

"I don't feel like going out today," you commented calmly.

"Yeah, me neither," Charles agreed.

Both saw the look of relief on Max's face. "Oh, okay. Well, nothing then," he pretended.

"We can watch a movie," you suggested, shrugging.

After lunch, you cuddled up on the couch, and you chose the movie. You noticed Max moving closer to you, resting his head on your shoulder, which was usually the other way around. Towards the end of the movie, you heard Max sniffling repeatedly, and you didn't even consider that they could be tears until you saw Max wiping his face.

You glanced at him. "Are you crying?"

"No…" Max muttered with a thin voice.

Charles looked at them. "You're crying!" he exclaimed, and quickly changed positions, with Max now in the middle.

"It's just… he found someone who loves him," he said between tears, pointing at the TV. "Like I love you guys."

Charles and you looked at each other with a pout, immediately showering him with kisses. You were watching Shrek.

"Wait, wait, I don't wanna get you sick," Max said, denying the kisses.

Charles backed off a bit in surprise. "Are you admitting you're sick?"

"Of course I'm sick, look at me,"

They chuckled a little, and you got up to get some cough syrup and ibuprofen for your boyfriend, finally. It barely took a minute, but when you returned, Max was lying on Charles's chest while he stroked his hair.

"Did he fall asleep again?" you whispered.

"I think so, come here," Charles stretched out his hand, and you wrinkled your nose a bit.

"I don't want to wake him up,"

Charles rolled his eyes. "Come here, mon ange," he repeated.

You stretched out on the couch, under Charles's arm and covering Max with a blanket. From where you were, you could see Max sleeping perfectly.

"It's so cute to see him like this," you whispered to Charles, while he gave you kisses on your jaw and ear.

"Isn't it?" Charles agreed. "And get ready for tomorrow because he's going to be clingier than ever."

"It's like he's been waiting for this moment all my life," you said, with a radiant smile.

Charles chuckled slightly, causing Max to move a bit, letting out a moan and falling back asleep immediately.

[yourheart-inmyhands]

I got one for you. Reader with long hair. Yan zhongli, Childe and Pantalone adore brushing it out or washing it for you, putting pretty (but not pointy) decorations in it. but you HATE them touching it. So one day, maybe when they slip up and leave smth sharp in your abode you grab it and lop off as much as you can before they come back (or stop you if they’re in the room when you do it). What happens afterwards?

Cannot wait to see what you cook with this, I adore your takes.

ah tysm! sorry it took so long to get to this, i took a little bit of a different twist from my normal writing style and did some headcanons and a short blurb! hope you enjoy :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including implied being held against will, mentions of reader almost being hit, zhongli being a softie, delusional behaviors, obsessive behaviors, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Pantalone would be furious, as someone with hair of a decent length himself, he knows the time and dedication it takes to grow it out so long.

He also knows how much maintenance it took, which is why he never fussed about helping you with it, often insisting to do it for you.

He saw it as a bonding moment between the two of you, something to help him wake up in the morning as he did your hair and something to unwind to at night as he’d undo the intricate styles he had done it up in that morning. 

You cutting off your hair with a letter opener that he’d left in the room by mistake hurts him, upsets him to the point he almost strikes you. To him it’s as if you had cut him, making a statement that you’d rather give up on something you’d dedicated years to, than to allow him the comfort and satisfaction. 

Pantalone can’t even bear to look at you for the next few days, sleeping in another room or in his office. 

“How could you do something so despicable? Do you even care how this made me feel?” The way Pantalone speaks almost makes it seem like you’d given him an impromptu haircut. With the gorgeous hair that used to reach down the length of your back now sitting in choppy piles on the floor, it almost felt like you had in a way. Your hair was uneven, lopped off sporadically in case he tried to interrupt. You’d just taken off the last few locks when he had noticed the absence of his letter-opener, intending to merely pop into your shared bedroom to grab it. Instead he was met with the grueling sight of you, kneeling before the full length mirror, hand clutching the letter opened as your opposite hand released a fist full of hair, letting it float down to the piles that had formed below.

Yandere!Zhongli would be conflicted. Part of him is upset that you’d make such a hasty decision, not even weighing the outcomes and taking away something from not just yourself but from the both of you. 

The other side of him is hurt that you didn’t come to him first. That you didn’t feel comfortable expressing your discomfort with his actions and had taken it to the extreme instead. His heart aches at both thoughts.

You’d managed to pry a sharp piece of stone off the walls of the cave, using it to hastily take off chunks, only for Zhongli to catch you mid way through. His contempt at the situation settles with a sigh as me approaches you, gently prying the rock from your hands before disappearing, leaving you to sit on the floor, half of your hair lopped off just scattered around you.

He returns a short bit later though, bringing with him a large mirror and a sharp pair of scissors. Setting the mirror in front of you, he gently begins correcting your hazardous hack job, carefully trimming off all the missed areas to even it all out.

While his work wasn’t great, it certainly looked a little better than how it had started. Your hair now sitting a few inches above your shoulder, a simple all around cut that was, mostly, even.

Zhongli didn’t say a word as he approached, looking down at you with a blank expression, his calm eyes staring deeply into your wide ones as he gently pried the rock from your hands, leaving you to wallow in a pile of your own hair as he disappears. Upon his return, he places a large, ornate mirror in front of you. It was typically kept in the living room as a decorative piece but he required it’s services here. Pulling from his pocket a pair of sharp scissors, he gently angles your head to be straight before reaching for the areas you hadn’t gotten to yet. Quickly shedding the length of those pieces he gets to work on straightening the rest out, doing an ok job at making it all match up and look decent. “If you wanted me to leave your hair alone you could’ve always asked darling, you know I only want to make you happy in this life of ours.”

Yandere!Childe manages to catch you before the act. You had thought you were sneaky, tiptoeing out of bed early in the morning over to his work clothes that had been hastily shed after his return last night.

You knew he kept a couple different blades on him, having shown you them before. Yet as you checked every pocket, every hidden loop, all the little places he’d shown you that he could be keeping them, you continued to turn up with nothing.

Over and over you checked, an almost pleading in the way your hands silently searched through the crumpled clothing, desperate to find anything even remotely sharp at this point.

You could feel the frustration as well as tears welling up in your eyes, why couldn’t anything ever go your way? First you get stuck with that crazed lunatic, and now that he’s practically taken over your hair you can’t even take some control and rid yourself of it.

As you search, you failed to hear the bed creak, or the soft patter of footsteps behind you. The only two things that tell you he’s awake are his voice whispering in his ear and his hand flaunting the exact thing you’d been looking for.

“I thought you might go looking for this, so I hid it under the pillow. A little cliche but I thought you’d be too stupid to look there, guess I was right~” Childe’s voice comes out in a sing-song tone, almost as if he was bragging about outsmarting you. He could tell from the moment he took an interest in your hair that it made you uncomfortable, just another button of yours to push as he slowly molded you into the perfect spouse for himself. His nimble fingers twirled the simple knife around, flaunting it to you. You could try to grab it, lunge for it even, but it was no use. You wouldn’t be able to get even a strand shortened before Childe would have it back in his possession, especially when the distance between the two of you was so short. Short enough that you could feel his chest pressing against your back, his breath on your neck, and his soft strands of hair brushing against the back of your head.

[nicka-nell]

wow ok read the recent request and I gotta say that was pretty heavy. Can we have a similar request but with a light angst with the remaining characters ??? I like the previous request

Hi, of course! :)) I've had really little time lately but I hope you like it anyway. I would say that all three contain rather mild angst compared to the previous ones. So I hope you enjoy it more. 💚

Regretting their actions

Pairing: Kuroo x, Ushijima x, Sakusa x reader

Warning: angst to fluff

Part 1 | Part 2 (End)

Kuroo finally made it. He has a job he enjoys. A job that also pays well financially and provides stability.

However, this job also involves some overtime and company trips.

In the beginning, he tried to keep to the working hours as much as possible. After all, he didn’t want to neglect you. However, the overtime increased year by year.

You often tried to gently point out to him that he shouldn’t overwork himself, but most of the time, your remarks were met with anger and ended in an argument.

At some point, you stopped and tried to suppress his increasingly frequent absences. Even if it hurt you.

Sometimes you lie in bed, looking at the empty space next to you, before the screen of your phone lights up and the usual message from Kuroo appears. “Sorry, kitten, but I can’t make it home today. But I’ll be there tomorrow at the end of the day.”

A message that raises so many doubts in you. What if he’s not at work at all and is seeing another woman? You’ve hardly had any time together in the last few months. Just a good morning kiss before work... that was all.

Does he no longer loves you? Does he possibly have a girlfriend and is leading a double life? No, Kuroo wouldn’t do that.

You’ve already reminded Kuroo three times this week that it’s your niece’s birthday today and that she’s looking forward to finally seeing him again. Because your niece loves Kuroo. Your boyfriend kept telling you before work that he had the date in his calendar and that he would definitely be home in time for the two of you to go to your niece’s together. You believed him. After all, the date was important to you. But you soon realize that this was just another lie. An empty promise.

Because when you look at your watch, it’s ten minutes before departure... and Kuroo still hasn’t arrived. He didn’t even reply to your “I’m looking forward to this afternoon.” You wait another four minutes, but nothing happens. In the end, you take the train to your niece’s house. Alone, without Kuroo. Because he doesn’t answer your messages or your calls.

Your little niece is so sad when she opens the door and looks up at you, realizing that you have come alone. It’s not that she doesn’t like you, but her dear uncle Kuroo always does so much nonsense with her. What did she once said? The aunts and grannies are there to go shopping and with the uncles and grandpas you have fun. Not exactly nice, but whatever. 

She looks at you with sad eyes. “Isn’t uncle Kuroo coming? Doesn’t uncle Kuroo like me anymore?” she asks tearfully as you try to calm her down somehow. It takes a long time for her to stop crying, and that on her birthday. And as if that wasn’t enough, you also get asked by your brother and your parents if everything is all right with you and your boyfriend. Whether you are still together at all. Because even at the last events, you were always there alone. When they passed by your home, only you were ever present. 

“No, no, everything’s fine. Tetsu’s just really busy today,” you reply with a forced smile, even though you don’t know where you stand as a couple right now. Can you even call what the two of you have a relationship?

As you head home in the evening, the apartment is still empty, just as expected. You sigh as you put your bag down and go into the bathroom to get ready for bed. The apartment seems so bitter as you lie down under the cold sheets, but you don’t care. You don’t even look at your phone anymore, because you know that Kuroo hasn’t texted you anyway. Nor do you mind that the bed is empty. Because that has also become a habit by now. Just then, you realize that tears are suddenly running down your cheeks. Yet you don’t even bother to wipe them away because no one will see them anyway.

Kuroo curses as he looks at his watch. His day had been stressful. So stressful that he didn’t even have time to look at his phone or check the time. Only when it got darker outside did he realize that he had once again worked too long. 

“Shit,” he curses again as he stands in front of the entrance door. Should he go back to get flowers for you? After all, he promised you he wouldn’t work so late. No, never mind. Staying away any longer will only upset you more.

“Hey kitten, I’m sorry I was gone so long again. I know I said that-” but when Kuroo enters the living room, the light is off. You’re not in the kitchen either. Have you gone to bed already? He walks quietly towards the bedroom, but his hand stops on the door handle when he hears you sniffle.

“Hey, baby, what’s wrong?” he asks, immediately moving past the bed to your side to kneel in front of it. Only now do you realize that Kuroo has returned home. You look at him almost empty-eyed. “Nothing...” you reply and want to turn away from him, but his hand holds onto your shoulder.

“Don’t say nothing when you’re obviously crying. Is it because I’m here so late again? I’m really sorry... I’ve completely lost track of time. I’m trying-”

“I suppose you’ve forgotten my niece’s birthday? She cried bitterly today... and not only that. I was asked today if we’re still together because you’ve never been to celebrations lately. And honestly? I don’t even know myself...” You say in frustration and watch Kuroo’s eyes suddenly widen.

Today was your niece’s birthday... You had told him several times during the week and yet he had forgotten. Kuroo doesn’t even know how to answer you. There is no answer that can please you. Because Kuroo has completely fucked up. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again. 

“Maybe we should really break-”

“No, no don’t say that. I know I fucked up. I know I promised you I’d work less overtime and be there for you more often. I know I didn’t stick to any of that. But please. I can change.” His answer interrupts yours, his voice soft and yet so panicked as he looks at you pleadingly. But you can’t help but laugh in frustration. “I’ve already asked my brother... I can stay with him for a while.”

You see the fear in his face as he tries to struggle for words. His shoulders begin to shake before he opens his mouth. Kuroo has no arguments to defend himself. In the end, he just failed. Made you sad. Neglected you. It had to get that far before he finally understood that. But when he looks at your sad face, he knows that he has no right to stop you.

“Yeah... if that’s what you want... I don’t want to stop you... make you any more miserable.” He replies dejectedly before squeezing your shoulder a little tighter to stand up to leave you alone in the bedroom. To give you the tranquility that you would prefer over his presence. But his legs won’t let him go any further as he stops in front of the door, just a step away from the hallway. 

Instead of leaving the room, he turns in your direction, switches on the big light and goes back to your bedside. “No, I can’t do that. I know I don’t have the right, but I just can’t let you go. I have neglected you. I have neglected us. And although you reminded me several times, I forgot your niece’s birthday. I don’t even want to imagine how sad she was that I wasn’t there, or how sad you must have been that I couldn’t keep my promise again. I am sorry that I have once again failed as a boyfriend. I know I probably look like the biggest asshole and my words sound like lies to you. But please... I love you and I mean it when I say I’m sorry. I enjoy my job, even if it is stressful. But I’ve probably lost sight of the most important thing, and that’s you. Please... please, if there’s still a little bit of hope, tell me how to make it right.��� Kuroo says, looking you in the eye with determination, even though he is struggling to keep his composure.

You sit up in bed and look down at him, still kneeling in front of you. You love him, but what’s the point if he can’t keep his promises anyway? Still, when he looks at you like that… with these sad eyes… as if he’s about to break apart… “I’m staying with my brother for a week from tomorrow... I need a clear head. So use this week to think about how you can set things right. And maybe... maybe there will still be a future for us.” You answer him more coldly than you actually wanted to and look over at the empty side of the bed. “And now go to bed... there’s no point sleeping on the sofa in the living room. It’ll only make your back ache.” you add, before crawling back under the covers and closing your eyes. Not waiting to see if Kuroo actually lies down next to you or not.

The week you spend with your brother is like a wake-up call for Kuroo. A reminder that he needs to change something.

He writes to you every day before he leaves for work. A simple “Good morning, I hope you have a good start to the day” and in the evening he always writes to you when he’s on his way home.

Nevertheless, overall he leaves you in peace. Just like you wanted.

After the week you spent with your brother, you now stand in front of the entrance to your own home and take a deep breath. Wondering if Kuroo is home yet.

He should actually be at home. After all, his working hours are over. Did he keep his promise? You open the door and step inside. The apartment looks exactly the same as it did when you left it a week ago. Tidy, clean. Almost as if no one lived here. And as you might expect, Kuroo’s shoes are also missing. So nothing has changed after all. Standing in the hallway, you laugh in frustration and shake your head as you suddenly hear a key in the door lock and Kuroo enters.

A little surprised to see you, his eyes widen. “H-Hey...” he says almost shyly as he stands in front of you. Kuroo has a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a bag of groceries in the other. “I thought... maybe we could cook together and then... talk afterwards. That’s why I went grocery shopping after work, but I guess most people do it after work. It was really crowded...” he clicks his tongue and tilts his head to the side with a somewhat strained smile.

So he did finish work on time? “And the flowers? Are they there for cooking too?” you ask, unconsciously breaking the tense atmosphere between you. Kuroo just rolls his eyes and you see the tips of his ears turn red as he hands you the bouquet. “Of course not. They’re for you... for the best woman in the world.” His last words are quiet, but you hear them well.

Kuroo and you cook together, even if it’s a bit strange at first.

You both don’t quite know what to say or how to behave.

But while you wait for your food to be ready, Kuroo speaks up, pushes a chair back and asks you to take a seat at the dining table before sitting opposite you and taking your hands in his.

He tells you that he has only worked one hour of overtime this week. That he has applied for an assistant so that he can hand over some of his work and therefore work less overtime.

He tells you about all this in such an excited tone, as if you’ve just had your first date and he’s asking you out. Kuroo seems to be making a real effort...

“You know, there are even therapists who deal with people who work too much and-” says Kuroo, but you interrupt him directly. “Tetsurou... I’m not asking you to go to a therapist. If what you’ve said is true, then... that’s a good start.” His posture relaxes abruptly at your statement before he grips your hands tighter again and rests his head on them, sighing with relief. He had fully expected you to draw a line today after all the lonely nights he had given you. After all the empty promises. And here you both are, sitting together, and he can’t believe how good-natured you are. “That means... you’ll give me another chance?” he asks, but doesn’t lift his head from your hands.

“One last one... so don’t mess it up Tetsurou.” you reply much more gently this time.

You’ve been together with Ushijima for a long time. You know his personality, that he tends to be quiet, sometimes blunt, and doesn’t talk much. Nevertheless, his lack of words sometimes makes you uneasy. 

Something that Ushijima often can’t understand, because after all, that’s how you met. It usually ends with you just nodding off at some point and saying that you must have been imagining things and you just pretend that nothing happened.

But lately he’s been so quiet again. Even more distant than before.

Whenever he comes home from training, he goes straight to the kitchen to make himself a protein shake. Then straight to the bathroom to put his sports clothes in the washing machine and then gets ready for bed. Somewhere in between, he greets you with an almost indifferent “hello”.

You know that Ushijima is a little different, that his communication sometimes falls short. But his current behavior is unsettling even for you.

Has he perhaps met someone new? Does he no longer love you?

No... you don’t want to have thoughts like that. And yet you have them, and yet they don’t stop you from asking Ushijima this one question when he’s about to go to bed. 

“Be honest Toshi... do you have another person you see next to me? Well... I don’t mean friends, but... a potential love interest?” The question slips out a little more reproachfully than you would have liked.

Ushijima looks at you with wide eyes as he puts on a T-shirt to go to bed. He can’t believe you actually asked him that. He has enough stress at the moment with the upcoming championship games. Now you’re just throwing in your insecurity. He doesn’t need that right now. “Do you really think I have the time or energy to deal with another relationship? This one is stressful enough at times,” he says almost coldly. 

Wow... you think. It feels like he’s hitting a volleyball right against your chest. It hurts. “So you see me as a burden?” you try to say in a calm voice, but it’s already shaking. Ushijima just shakes his head in annoyance before climbing into bed next to you. 

“When you ask questions like that, yes. Where do you come up with such nonsense? Do you have so little self-esteem?” says Ushijima before switching off the light on the bedside cabinet and turning towards you. “Let’s go to sleep now. I have to get up in the morning. And stop thinking such nonsense.” He says, as if he hadn’t hurt your feelings with his words earlier, before leaning in to kiss you goodnight, but you just turn around and avoid him. “Good night...” you mumble coolly, but Ushijima doesn’t think much of it.

Only after several days does he realize that something is different. You hardly talk to him, not at all, in fact. You no longer cook for him either. Maybe not in general? You’re often out until late in the evening and only come to bed when Ushijima is already asleep. But when he asks you what’s wrong, you just answer with a strange smile and say “nothing”. Ushijima doesn’t understand a thing.

It’s only when he’s on the phone with Tendou and the two of them are talking about all sorts of things, about how Ushijima is very stressed right now from training and the upcoming championships, that he mentions in passing that you’re behaving strangely. Tendou has known Ushijima for a long time. So he can guess that Ushijima has once again misunderstood something or said things that came across wrongly. When Ushijima tells him about the conversation with you a few days ago, Tendou sighs loudly into the phone. “Wakatoshi, that’s the stupidest thing you could have said to her. Does your better half know that you’re under a lot of stress at the moment?”

“Of course not. After all, it’s not something she can change. So she doesn’t have to worry about it.” As soon as Ushijima has spoken his sentence, he hears the sigh on the other side of the line again. “Wakatoshi, that’s not how a relationship works. How long have you been together now? Almost six years... She’s just worried about you. And if she then asks you whether there might be another woman in your life, ‘Don’t ask such stupid questions, why do you have so little self-esteem’ is not exactly the best answer.” Tendou imitates Ushijima.

He is surprised that he still has a girlfriend at all with this manner. Maybe he needs to fly to Japan more often after all… To give Ushijima a good slap on the back of the blunt man’s head.

“I just wanted to tell her that she’s a great woman and I can’t understand how she can have such thoughts when she’s perfect,” Ushijima replies as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Yet Tendou has to spend half an hour talking to Ushijima about how wrong his behavior was before he finally realizes it himself. So he decides to go home after training and wait for you, no matter how long it takes. 

Sighing, you stand in front of the front door. On the one hand, you hope that Ushijima is already asleep, but on the other, you don’t want to continue with the silent treatment. You shake your head and open the door, only to see Ushijima sitting in the living room, his hands clasped together as he rests his arms on his thighs.

“Wakatoshi?” You ask, a little irritated, as you notice him staring into space. You can’t interpret his gaze. “Can you please sit down? We need to talk.” He says in a firm voice that makes your heart beat uncomfortably faster. You know you haven’t done anything wrong, and yet it feels like you have. Nevertheless, you nod, sit down next to him and look in his direction. He mirrors your movement. Only he doesn’t look at you with concern, but neutrally as always.

“I...” he begins, but then his voice drops. He doesn’t quite know how to start. After all, that’s never been his strength. “What is it, Wakatoshi?” you ask almost impatiently. After all, if he wants to end the relationship, he should keep it short. That will hurt, but maybe it’s better that way.

“I have hurt you. Seemingly very deeply. I’m sorry about that. It’s not that I don’t love you. I do and I thought you knew that too. Maybe I didn’t express myself properly, no actually, I didn’t express myself properly. But I can’t understand why you think that I might have another woman for whom I have feelings. You are a wonderful woman. Strong, independent, intelligent and attractive. For me, you are just right the way you are. I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side. I thought you would see yourself the way I see you.” Ushijima looks deep into your eyes with every word, his complete focus on you, before glancing briefly to the side. As if he’s thinking about what else he wants to say. Then he turns back to you and puts his hand on your thigh.

“We’re really under a lot of stress at the moment with our training. But that’s not something I want to burden you with in any way. After all, there’s nothing you can do to change the situation. And you shouldn’t have to worry about your husband. So… If I hurt you with my words, I’m sorry.” His words are sincere and the uneasy feeling you felt in your chest is suddenly gone. You should have known that Ushijima doesn’t love another woman. After all, it’s Ushijima. 

“Let’s go out for dinner together at the weekend. Just the two of us. Let’s talk, spend time together. There hasn’t been enough of that lately.” Ushijima says, turning you more towards him by your thigh before wrapping his hands around your waist and placing you on his lap with ease.

“Wakatoshi!” you shriek briefly. His head is on your shoulder, his breath warm on your skin. “I’m really sorry that my words hurt you,” he whispers softly, starting to rub your back with his thumb as he holds you close to his chest. You are no longer angry with him. Has been no longer. Actually, you are glad that he told you how he felt.

“Going out for dinner sounds good,” you say softly and put your arms around him. As you answer, you feel him squeeze you a little tighter. As if he wants to tell you how grateful he is that you show understanding for him.

Actually, everything is going well between you and Sakusa. You both harmonize well, have similar interests and friends. The only thing that is a little difficult is the fact that you have to keep your relationship a secret.

At least Sakusa wants to keep the relationship private because he doesn’t want paparazzi following you around or some crazy fans sending you threatening letters or maybe even hurting you.

Sakusa is very cautious when it comes to you.

So apart from your closest friends, your family and his agency, nobody knows about your relationship.

However, it is becoming more difficult from year to year. Because there are already pictures that have been made public. Pictures in which you are seen with Sakusa. Sitting together in a coffee shop or going for a walk in the park. You’ve even been photographed while buying groceries.

There are also more and more rumors about you. “Who is the unknown woman who is always in the front row at every game?”, ”Is this young lady the girlfriend of athlete Kiyoomi Sakusa?”

Today Sakusa forgot his sports shoes. Since you work in the same building as the agency that has him under contract, you decide to simply take the shoes with you. After all, Sakusa told you today that he has an appointment at his agency before he goes to training.

With a slight nod, you greet the security people at the entrance to the third floor where the agency for athletes is located. You’ve already been here a few times, so it’s easy for you to find the right way. You stop in front of Sakusa’s manager’s office. In front of the office, you see that the door is slightly open and that people are talking. Sakusa was one of them. You briefly consider knocking and going in, but when you hear the next words, you stand still, petrified.

“Sakusa-san, are you sure you want to bring your relationship with Ms. Abe into the public eye? Ms. Abe is a popular tennis player. It would draw a lot of attention to both of you,” says Sakusa’s manager. Soon after, the sound of a woman giggling rings out, followed immediately by Sakusa’s voice.

“That’s fine... I think it’s for the best. But before we go through with this -” you don’t hear the last words, because you’ve already set the bag with the shoes down outside the office and rushed back to your own workplace. 

You can’t concentrate all day long. You keep thinking about that conversation you had heard earlier. About Sakusa... wanting to make a relationship public? Only now do you realize what that actually means. Does this mean that Sakusa has been cheating on you the whole time and you were nothing but a pleasant distraction for him?

Frustrated, you stomp home after work, thinking about all the things you want to say. Everything you want to throw at Sakusa. When you arrive home, the apartment is still empty. Nothing unusual, because Sakusa wanted to go to his training after the meeting. So he’ll probably be gone for several more hours. Or did he just use that as an excuse to meet up with his new girlfriend?

You laugh bitterly, rolling your eyes at the thought of Sakusa’s name appearing in the magazines next to the name of that tennis player .... “Ridiculous...” you snort, and walk into the living room, where, ironically, the picture of Sakusa and you immediately comes into view. A photo of the two of you on vacation. You were in Norway. A country where Sakusa isn’t really well known. That’s why you could enjoy your vacation without paparazzi. In the photo you are in a small restaurant, outside on the terrace, both smiling intimately into the camera. Was it all just an act?

Furious, you grab the photo and throw it on the floor. The glass breaks and all the shards lie on the ground. “Damn...” you curse, annoyed at yourself for your outburst as you kneel down to pick up the pieces. But a familiar voice makes you flinch. 

“My love, is everything all right?” you hear Sakusa, who must have come home a few seconds ago, dropping his bag in the hallway and looking in your direction with wide eyes. He left training on time today because he thought it was strange that his sports bag was in front of his manager’s door, but you weren’t there.

But now the time has come. The pain in your chest suddenly gets impossible to bear, your mouth quivers and your eyes are all warm as big tears run down your cheeks. A sight that really knocks Sakusa off his feet. Immediately he rushes in your direction, kneels down next to you and takes your hands in his to see if you have cut yourself. But your body seems to be unharmed.

“W-what’s wrong?” he asks again, concerned, before you pull your hands out of his grip and stare at him angrily. “When... when were you going to tell me you had another girl? And what are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be at training or with your new lover?” you say angrily, but don’t raise your voice.

Sakusa tries to follow your words, even if he can’t understand them at first. But then he realizes… The bag in the hallway, your tears... you must have heard part of the conversation he had this afternoon. But you probably haven’t heard everything. The man with the raven-black curls closes his eyes before taking a deep breath and looking at you again, trying to reach for your hands.

“You’ve completely misunderstood something-” he is about to start, but you interrupt him directly. “Don’t say ‘it’s not what it looks like’. You can spare that phrase, Kiyoomi!” you say a little louder now, but Sakusa doesn’t back down and continues to try to talk to you calmly.

“Please Y/n... I want you to listen to me for a minute... just a minute... After that you can still be mad at me. Is that possible?” Sakusa grabs your hands this time, pulls you up with him and leads you to the sofa. “Sit down, please.” You’re actually reluctant, but you’ve been together for so long now... you can give him that one minute, can’t you? You grudgingly sit down, but don’t look at him.

“Lately, paparazzi are getting bolder and bolder... even the other day there were some in the supermarket who wanted to take pictures of us... I’m just worried that your face will eventually be in all the newspapers and platforms and you’ll no longer be able to live your life carefree, but will always have these people at your back, following you,” says Sakusa somewhat awkwardly. Almost as if he himself is unsure whether what he wants to tell you is plausible for you. But before he can continue, you interrupt him directly and give him an angry look.

“Oh, and that’s why you thought you’d find a new girlfriend who’s already a celebrity and just date her? Then you can go out without hiding? Is that it?” you’re struggling to keep your voice under control. Sakusa’s eyes widen and he shrinks back for a moment, his hands almost in a protective position in front of his chest as he shakes his head.

“Wait, no, it’s not like that. I don’t have another relationship. Well, okay wait. I thought it might be good if I publicly revealed a fake relationship with another celebrity. Of course, it’s not real and we’re not really a couple. But I thought it would take the pressure off you and you could-”

You can’t believe what Sakusa is saying right now. Is he really serious? If it’s true, why is he talking to his manager first and not to you? Doesn’t he care about your feelings? “Do you actually... don’t think at all? How do you think I would feel when I read the messages and your name is everywhere with the name of your fake girlfriend? Have you ever thought about the fact that this is extremely hurtful to me? I would rather be seen in public with you than see you with someone else ‘for my supposed freedom and privacy’. How would you feel if I introduced another man to the whole world as my boyfriend just to ‘protect’ you?” The words you say so loudly hit Sakusa, and he gets quiet. He doesn’t even know what to say anymore. Your question slaps him hard. How would he feel… The thought of seeing you with another man makes him angry, sad... and somehow helpless?

“I...” Sakusa begins, but immediately doesn’t know how to continue. “I’m sorry, that was probably stupid of me.” He then says, tilting his head downwards. Sighing, you stand up and shake your head once more before walking past Sakusa. 

“You know, you never asked me, but I wouldn’t mind if people knew my face. It’s more important to me to do things with you without having to hide. You’re always the one who overdramatizes and worries unnecessarily... Whatever… I’m going to bed now. Good night.” You no longer wait for his answer. Instead, you go straight to the bathroom and get ready for bed.

Sakusa remains seated in the living room. He knows exactly that it wouldn’t be right to talk to you now, that you want to be left alone. Especially since he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to tell you. He just knows that his action was really stupid.

Sakusa hadn’t signed a contract with the tennis player and the two agencies yet, because he wanted to talk to you about it first, but at the moment his own idea to protect your privacy disgusts him. He really should have talked to you first about how you feel, whether you want to be in the public eye, instead of drawing any conclusions. Sakusa sighs, leans back against the sofa and closes her eyes. “Idiot...” he whispers quietly.

Two days pass and you are still disappointed by Sakusa’s behavior. Even though he probably only meant well. You haven’t really spoken much either. Just the usual “Good morning, have a nice day at work...”, “How was your day?” and all that sort of things.

Still at work, you just can’t concentrate and start massaging your temples when suddenly one of your colleagues shrieks and starts giggling. “Hey, isn’t that Sakusa Kiyoomi? What’s he doing here? His agency is upstairs, isn’t it?” she asks one of her colleagues, who quickly reaches for her make-up mirror and fixes her hair. 

Now you too turn your head forward and see Sakusa walking in your direction with a bunch of white lilies. Everyone looks after him, puzzled, and you also stare at him with irritation as he stops in front of you. “Uhm... I wanted to bring these over to you because I have to go upstairs to talk to my manager about a photo shoot.”

The whispering of your colleagues gets louder and louder and you still look a little confused, but you take the bouquet and stand up. “Kiyoomi, what is this about?” you whisper to him, not quite knowing how to react. Sakusa grazes your arm, wanders up to your cheek and looks deep into your eyes. “You were right. I should never have had this stupid idea. I should have asked you. And even if I’m worried about you, I only want to see you by my side in any pictures on the internet. After all, you are the woman I love. I’m really sorry. Will you... accept my clumsy apology?” Sakusa gazes at you with such a puppy-dog look that you can’t help but put the bouquet on your table and jump into his arms.

Of course, Sakusa did not sign the contract with the tennis player.

At his next match, you’re in the front row as usual, and when Sakusa scores the final point to victory and his team cheers along with him, he immediately runs to you, pulling you over the barrier to hold you in his arms before setting you down and cupping your cheeks with his hands. Just a few seconds later, you feel his lips on yours, cameras pointing at you and taking photos. But you couldn’t care less. “You know, I’ve wanted to do this so many times before,” he says calmly, leaning his forehead against your own.

Although everyone knows your face now, Sakusa is always reserved in interviews when it comes to private questions.

He will not answer questions about you if they become too personal.

In the beginning, the paparazzi and reporters were really a nuisance, but everything calmed down over time and the two of you can go out and enjoy dates together without being followed, just like back then, before his career.

[fayes-fics]

What The True Poet Describes

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Having been parted for many weeks, it makes you and Benedict realise some truths…

Warnings: none… this is utter fluff. Romantic confessions and proposals.

Word Count: 1.4k

Authors Note: Anon request fill from HERE (reader returns from travel to confess her feelings for Benedict). Unbetaed. Sorry it has taken me ten months to fulfil this Nonny, but I hope you enjoy! <3

As your carriage thunders down the cobbled street of Mayfair, your stomach flutters—not from the jostling of the rough surface, but for an entirely different reason. This is a homecoming of sorts, it certainly feels too long since you were here; the sights and the smells of London so enthralling, teeming with life, such a contrast to where you have been. 

But it’s not just that.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and for you, nothing could be more apt. It’s been nine weeks, and you are positively aching inside, distance bringing clarity to your heart's true desire. You are jangling with anticipation because of your destination. Not caring a jot for judgement of your actions or any scandal that may ensue, single-minded in your mission.

As the carriage slows in front of a handsome red brick townhouse, you leap out before your footman can assist. So keen for a reunion. The front door sweeps open, and the valet requests your name. But before you can even give it, the very person you want to see materialises at the top of the staircase: so handsome it takes your breath away. His face is one of shock.

“Miss y/l/n?!?” Benedict’s baritone voice rings out in genial confusion.

“Mr Bridgerton!” your responding call an animated response, holding out your hand to him as he descends stairs quickly.

He reaches you and politely takes one of your hands, kissing your gloved knuckles, your blood flushing warm as he does.

“I have missed you!” Unable to hide the breathiness in your claim.

“I have missed you too!” He echoes, still seeming taken aback before shaking his head a fraction.“Gosh, where are my manners? Please come into the drawing room!” 

He leads you there, his hold on your gloved hand respectful but firm, a warmth that stirs your belly.

“Smith, some tea, please,” he requests over his shoulder as he sees you to a seat.

“It’s rather late. Do you have anything stronger?”

His eyebrow shoots up at your perhaps cheeky query, but it's not in judgment, more surprised admiration and respect. 

“Cancel that, Smith,” he calls out. “How about a brandy?” He adds quietly just for you, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You nod enthusiastically and remove your gloves as he pours two glasses from a decanter nearby.

“What brings you here so late?” 

His skin touches yours briefly as he hands you the glass, a tiny frisson running down your spine.

“I have something to tell you,” you offer, slightly enigmatic. “I hope you will indulge an old friend.”

“Less of the old, please,” he jests gently, raising his glass in a silent toast.

“To good friends,” you amend, mirroring his action, then taking a sip and enjoying the fruity burn of the cognac.

“Good friends,” he echoes after a swig, then smiles at you expectantly, waiting to hear your answer to his question.

“Well, I suppose what I have to say is more of a confession…“ you admit, after another fortifying gulp, eyes downcast upon your glass as you swirl it lightly in your hand—a nervous tic. “Prussia has been nice in some ways, but there was one thing I missed so very much…”

“London?” he guesses

“Yes, but that’s not it,” you smile, looking up again.

“Parties?” he suggests next with a wink.

“Well, yes, those too,” you giggle and blush at the thought of the bohemian parties you have snuck away to in the past, one such gathering being where you met him. “But not what I’m referring to.”

“Tell me then.”

Steeling yourself, you look at him squarely, 

“You, Benedict. My dearest friend. I have missed you. So very terribly,” you confess over a jagged exhale.

He looks abashed, so handsome in his modesty, a dot of colour high on his cheeks as he bows his head and looks at you through his lashes.

“And it made me realise something…” 

You place aside your now empty glass. Nerves have you spring to your feet, taking a pace tentatively towards him, hands wringing.

“What?” 

His question is delicate, almost gossamer, his face enrapt, looking up at you as you stand before him, ready to finally admit out loud what your heart has been screaming for many weeks now, perhaps always.

“Yours is the wise counsel that I have missed the most. My company has been sorely lacking your sparkling wit, and indeed, there are no talented wordsmiths such as yourself to be found. Especially not any with a countenance as pleasing as yours.” 

He blushes deeper, the pinkness staining his cheeks, but he is also staring intently at you now, his breathing a little uneven. So you decide to be brave, to throw all caution to the wind.

“I-I like you, Benedict. So very much. So ardently,” each word a slight stumble, your whole body flushing hot as you lay bare the truth. “I-I wish to call you something infinitely more dear than a friend if you will permit it. These past few weeks have made me realise just how much I have missed you. A-And I felt compelled to rush back to tell you. To see if perhaps y-you might return my affection?” You stumble, your heart pounding wildly and loudly in your ears as you finally stop to take a breath.

He stands up now, too, his lopsided smile tender as he advances slowly toward you.

“Y/n, did you ever stop to consider why I always referred to you as one of my best friends from the very first time we met?” He asks as he draws closer; you are unable to look away, trapped under his intense gaze. 

“N-No?”

“It is because yours is the company I wish for the most. Days without you were, and indeed are, so very bland. I have always wanted your wonderous spirit near me, even if it was only ever as a good friend,” his voice sounding so wistful. “You should know, however, that only scratches the surface of what I feel for you, indeed, what I have always felt for you…” 

You gasp as his fingers tilt up your chin tenderly, and you find yourself lost in his eyes as he speaks again. 

“You are my muse, my wonder. Your ethereal beauty has always haunted me. You fill my every thought. Being apart from you these last few weeks has been such torture.” 

Your entire being feels alight, each cell an inferno, almost in disbelief that his feelings are an apparent mirror of your own.

“Perhaps what I want to say is better expressed in poetry….”

He pauses and looks deep into your eyes as if piercing to your very soul, sonorous, velvet words beginning to tumble from his lips.

“What is it truly to admire a woman?” 

Already captivated by his rhetorical question, you feel yourself sway towards him.

“To look at her and feel inspiration?” 

He gestures to miniature portraits of you dotted around the room, each obviously painted by his talented hand. You are temporarily dumbfounded, not even noticing them until this very moment. 

A soft chuckle from him brings your focus unerringly back to his earnest, handsome face.

“To delight in her beauty?”

He touches your cheek tenderly. It feels like a searing brand mark; you cannot look anywhere but him, lips parted, breath ragged.

“So much so that all your defences crumble…” 

He laces his fingers with yours as you feel a tidal wave of emotion, a tightness in your chest that is your lungs feeling barely able to breathe.

“That you would willingly take on any pain, any burden… for her….” 

He brings your joined hands over his heart, trying to convey the sincerity behind his lyrical declaration as you feel your eyes mist.

“To honour her being… with your deeds and words….” 

His lips brush the back of your knuckles, a wet spike of heat, and then you gasp loudly as he falls to one knee before you, his hands still clutching both of yours.

“I have missed you more than any words can ever express, y/n. I never wish to be parted from you again. I do not yet have a ring for you, but please, will you do me the very greatest honour of being my wife?”

Your world tilts at his wondrous, heartfelt proposal, ebullient joy radiating through your every pore. You begin to nod, a tear welling in the corner of your eye. Knowing there is only one word that will ever be your elated response…

“YES!!”

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[honeyandberryjuice]

Grinding Gears

collab with @lavenderovercast

summary: when 30 years go by with your husband in another dimension, it's only natural that you both encounter some physical and emotional barriers. luckily for you, you're able to begin squashing the physical ones rather quickly... relationship(s): stanford pines/reader word count: 2,330 warning(s): 18+, MINORS DNI

author's note: give it up for day 2 of our kinktober challenge!!! what do you mean it's the 10th/11th? we weren't procrastinating, the calendar was. by being several days ahead of us. another collab between me & @lavenderovercast!! hope you guys enjoy <333 tags: light sub!ford pines; this man is soft for one woman and one woman only, light dom!reader, thigh riding, plotless porn ftw, thirty years of feelings involved lmao, fluff, smut, pet names, chair sex, grinding, dirty talk; but make it really nerdy and needy, horrible biology joke :)

🍯 prefer to read on ao3? 🍯

 Ford doesn’t know how long he’s been down in his lab with his research, but he does know that when he hears the familiar creak of the elevator coming down that it’s probably been too long. You’ve been a good wife, a dutiful wife— it’s only natural that you would come down to check on him. And it was only natural that Ford would try to protest your presence, tilting his head over his shoulder as you approached him with a frown on your pretty face.

 “I’m sorry, my dear. I’ll head to bed soon.” You both know that his words are a lie, even if he doesn’t mean them to be. Because Ford’s work means everything to him, it also means that there’s no rest for the wicked. With the wicked in this case being a sleep-deprived scientist. That fact doesn’t stop him from turning his chair to face you, outstretching his arms to pull you closer for a gentle peck on the lips— it’s his form of an apology, it’s his way of trying to earn forgiveness for neglecting his sleep. “Don’t wait on me, please. You look tired.”

 He’s exhausted, but he knows that he needs to piece the rest of this project together. It will gnaw at him and leave him restless if he leaves it alone. You smile knowingly as your husband’s hands brush against your skin, warm and calloused as his thumbs rub circles against your wrists as he gently pulls you closer. Your form happily leans into the man, a mischievous thought forming in your head. If he won’t come to bed with the temptation of your presence alone, why not provide further incentive?

 “And you look stressed,” You hum, your hands gliding across his skin to settle onto his shoulders. You lean in closer, your familiar floral scent mixed with baking that always smelled so divine to Ford enveloping him. His head falls into your body and he breathes you in deeply, the man’s hands cupping your back to pull you in closer. He was always so busy tinkering or researching, as he always had done. It was hard to break habits that he’d kept up for almost forty years, but being reunited with his wife made him remember just how many physical sensations he’d let himself forget.

 The perfume that clings to your clothes make his head feel dizzy, and his fingers grip into your soft cardigan wrapping around your frame. He feels a little pathetic as he realises that something as little as just your presence causes arousal to fill him. Ford had missed his wife so dearly, and while the emotional side of things had been difficult to confront and talk about, he knew the two of you had managed to rediscover your comfort around each other… Though the intimacy side of things was a little more strained, and while you both definitely felt the absence of one another, it was hard to just pick up where you left off after thirty years.

 With a sigh, Ford lifts his head to look up at you, eyes slightly pleading. Your breath hitches in your throat as you notice that he wants you just as much as you want him. Your hands move from his shoulders up to his neck, before gently cupping his face and leaning in for a feather-light kiss. The motion was shy, because you felt shy; you had spent most of your life believing you knew this man intricately, but so many decades apart had made you foreign to each other. You knew that you had to make the first move, to know him again.

 As you both separate after the peck, your breaths mingle in the small space between you. You can see a shy smile tugging at the man’s lips as he peers up at you, his brown eyes warm with affection. The sight is enough to make you smile back, your heart warming in your chest as he leans forward. Ford feels a little bolder, if only for a moment, pressing his lips gently against yours.

 It’s longer and deeper than the small kiss that you had just shared. His lips are rough against yours, but you find yourself enjoying the sensation as your fingertips move up, gently digging into the man’s hair. A pleased groan rumbles from his chest, a sound that is muffled but still makes his face flush with embarrassment as his tongue carefully slips past your lips.

 It’s been years since he’s been physical with anyone, of course the action will feel clumsy and awkward— of course his heart is going to thunder in his chest the way that it is now. It doesn’t make him any less embarrassed by how weak in the knees you make him now, though. These facts also don’t let him embrace his desperation with grace, nor do they let him embrace the way that his fingers rub against the fabric of your cardigan and move down without a little bit of shame.

 Not because of you, of course, but because of himself. He doesn’t want to be selfish and needy, but it’s exactly what he is now as his hands trail from your sides to the backs of your legs, silent encouragement for you to rest yourself on his lap. You happily comply, straddling one of his legs as he pulls away from your intoxicating lips for air, only just noticing the burn in his lungs.

 “I missed you.” He mumbles, his voice sincere as he navigates his hands away from the backs of your legs, closer to the hem of your skirt. Ford just wants to take care of you, maybe in his own selfish way, in an attempt to ignore his want. You deserve better than what he wants to provide now. It’s only natural that his hands wander the hem of your skirt, eager to pull down the fabric until your delicate hand wraps around his wrist.

 Your face is flushed red, and the sight of this makes his insides turn to jelly. Your hair, which had been pulled back into a slick bun, had begun to unwind with bits of loose hair falling around the side of your face. Ford always believed you looked beautiful, but there was something radiant about you right now— The usually hard shell of a woman who always strived to remain professional and predominantly focused on your work coming undone made him feel very hot under the collar. Your work ethic is what had made him fall for you, after all.

 His admiration of you flew from his mind as your grip on his wrist grew tighter, the desire on your face evident. The man wanted so badly to please you, and he felt a thrill travel up his spine and groin as you took his hand and pulled it under your skirt, pressing it against your panties.

 Ford could feel your want soaking through them.

 “You’re… You’re so…” His throat felt tight, his skin burning with both need and bashfulness.

 “Wet?” You finished for him, a sly smile plastering your face. “That’s just simple biology not letting me keep any secrets about how much I want you.”

 Oh God, he loved you so much. Ford needs you closer, to kiss your glorious lips and show you how much he wanted you, too. This time wasn’t about him and he would make it his mission to do anything you wanted. His hand rubs along your labia, before pausing to swirl around your swollen clit.

 You gasp loudly, jerking forward and clamping your fingers tightly onto his shoulders. Ford glances up at you through long, dark eyelashes, one side of his mouth quirked up into a little smirk. You had always found that look so infuriating when the two of you had been academic rivals, though now it shot fluttery shockwaves through your body like little electric butterflies.

 A whimper escapes you as you pull yourself closer towards him, the warmth from your drenched panties and body seeping into him. Your breasts pressing against his chest make him lightheaded, despite the fact you were still fully clothed. God, he really needed to get laid.

 He almost feels lamentable, like he’s some teenage virgin in his first relationship. It’s almost like he’s about to melt into the damn chair he’s sitting on now, with the way you pull yourself to him, your fingers digging harshly into the sleeves of his sweater, grasping onto his shoulders as though he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. Your reactions are encouragement that push past his nerves, allowing him to focus on the task at hand: getting his wife to cum so damn hard that you would see stars.

 His fingers move methodically as he does his best to recall the way that you used to like him touching you; each former whisper of praise and gratitude that slipped your lips all those years ago came back into his mind like muscle memory, encouraging him to continue rubbing your clit in fast little circles. Ford can’t help but think that he could die happy, with you writhing in his lap when you give a breathy gasp, leaning your head into the crook of the man’s neck before bucking your hips into his moving hand.

 “Sweet Moses, you’re divine,” He breathes out softly to you, the praise instinctively slipping from his lips. And then he’s leaning his own head so he can rest it against your shoulder. The sweet smell of vanilla invades his senses in a way that makes his head swim. He can’t see it, but you’re grinning as you rock your hips against his fingers, a slow and deliberate action that earns a soft groan from the man. “You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart.”

 You giggle at that, the sound of a torturous melody that he wanted to hear forever. Ford isn’t given long to relish in the sound, however, because you continue to rock your hips, beginning to build up a steady pace. He can feel your legs clench around his own, your grip on him tight as you grind your hips on his leg and fingers. It’s filthy, and he craves more of it. He wants to see you come undone, he wants to make you scream with delight.

 So he keeps up his rhythm, not minding the tightness beginning to fill his slacks as he lifts his head to cup your cheek with his free hand. Tilting your head so you’re facing him, Ford presses his lips against your own in another kiss. This time, he’s far less gentle. This time, he allows his yearning to show through his actions in the way that they can’t through his words. Ford revels in the way that you whimper and jerk your hips harder into his fingers and lap, the actions of your excitement only encouraging the man to playfully nip at your lip.

 Between Ford’s expert fingers moving against your clit, pressing against the bud with just enough pressure to make you want to melt in his arms and the stimulation of your pussy rubbing against his leg as you filthily grind on his thigh, you’re certain that this is the closest you’ll ever get to heaven in his arms.

 You’re eager to return the kiss, an excited noise rising from the back of your throat as Ford’s teeth graze against your bottom lip. You know that you aren’t going to last much longer on his lap, grinding your hips like this while Ford dutifully rubs your clit, not letting up with the stimulation that sends shivers across your skin.

 You can feel the pressure rising within you, deep in your pelvis as your legs begin to shake around Ford’s thigh. One hand continues to dig into his skin, your nails embedding deeply into his red sweater as your breathing becomes spasmodic and heavy, the other gripping the back of his hair as your grinding increases in fervour. Your lip is clamped between your teeth and Ford is so enraptured in watching your face, your eyes clouded with desire, that he isn’t prepared for when you come completely undone.

 Your jaw drops open and you throw your head back, a guttural groan coming from deep in your throat as you jerk your hips roughly once more and your weight falls back. Ford catches you by wrapping his arms behind your back and pulling you towards him again, another hot kiss searing your skin as he begins to plant soft smooches along your jaw plastered with praise, “You did so well, dear. So beautiful, so perfect.” The man coos, one hand raising to gently brush your cheek.

 He would curse himself for not letting your reunion happen earlier, what with everything going on with Bill’s plan and endless research, but he was so glad that this had happened the way it had. You seem to think similarly, because you smile sweetly up at him and nuzzle into his neck for a few moments before clambering off his lap.

 Your expression turns playful as you look down at his thigh, your smile sheepish. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” Ford could honestly stay in these clothes forever marred as they were, the filthy man he is, but he nods in agreement. With a quiet grunt, he begins to climb onto his feet before he feels your hands push him back into the chair, eyebrow raised. “No, no,” You grin devilishly, “Let me take those off for you.”

 Ford lifts both of his eyebrows as he peers up at you, his face growing warm at the devilish expression on your face. He can’t help but grin and nod his head at the sight. “Whatever you wish, my dearest.”

 While you both may still have some emotional awkwardness to confront in the future, you didn’t think your physical intimacy would be an issue any longer.

[missmimii]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | 𝐌－𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

୨ৎ － 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | In which Matt had gotten lost in a game rather then the deprivation of touch he’d felt the whole night.

୨ৎ — 𝐂𝐖. 18+, Sub!Matt, fem!reader/dom!reader, smut, language, dirty talk, light degradation, pet names, teasing, dom/sub!relationship, fem!receiving oral, Matt the munch!

♡︎－ℳ𝒾𝓂𝒾’𝓈 𝓃ℴ𝓉ℯ𝓈 | Mimi finally posts! Surgery + School has been kicking my ass, so I sincerely apologize for my absence. But I’m back! And ready to get back to my usual schedule.

Butterflies swarmed the girl’s gut as a kitten like peck was placed right atop her belly button, making her squirm a little as two blue hooded eyes peeked up at her. “What’s this?” Matt murmured softly, though his tone remained gruff with a hint of exhaustion lacing the undertone. “Hm?” She propped up her upper half with both elbows, head tilting to the side as she watched as her boyfriend’s thumb run over the slight, faded purple scar above her bellybutton. “Does it hurt?” Her head shook slightly, a subtle smile tainting her bitten lips as the adoring boy hummed, placing yet another kiss atop the mark. “I used to have a piercing there, it left a scar.”

Matt cooed ever so slightly, and inwardly, so did she. He looked so perfect, and at peace. His brunette hair was untamed and just barely overgrown, small pieces lying around his eyebrows and forehead. Blue eyes accompanied by faint bags underneath, a picturesque proof of just how long he’d been up. And his lips, slick with his saliva as he ran his tongue along the soft skin, the rough stubble of his jaw pressing into her abdomen as he allowed his head to rest. “Tired, baby?”

Matt’s eyes batted as a soft sigh escaped his lips as her hand cupped his jaw delicately, the pad of her thumb guiding it’s way under his one eye. “No.” The boy mumbled, peeking his eyes open to look up at his girlfriend. “wanna’ spend time with you.” His eyes were groggy, slow blinks sent her way as he peered up at her with such intensity. Warmth swirled in her core at the innocence written all over her face, knowing it was all a facade. “Spend time with me? baby you’ve had all night to be with me.” He whined at the tone of her voice, lowering his gaze as he pressed his face into her tummy, inhaling.

Vanilla and remains of her body lotion that had a reminiscent hint of shea engulfed his nose as he resisted the need to nip at her lustrous skin, the smell so intoxicating as he felt himself ache for the girl. “M’sorry. Nate wanted to play a game with me before he went to bed,” she hummed in understanding, already knowing the circumstances. “You don’t have to be sorry, baby.” The girl knew he felt guilty the second his PC had shut off, the room going dark with the subtle hue of a candle as he crawled onto the bed and lying himself between her parted thighs.

It started off innocent, just like it always did before he got worked up. ‘You looked so pretty today’ he’d whisper, the praise muffled as he pressed his lips to the skin of her navel. ‘missed you so much’ his hands would glide up her chest, innocently toying with the frilly hem of her bra. ‘Wanted to touch you so bad’ and that’s when she’d know, realization coming over her just as he unintentionally would rut his hips against the bedsheets.

The girl let out a huff of amusement as she felt the boy’s teeth graze her tummy, just before his eyes slid up to hers, a mischievous glint behind the blue surface. “Yes?” Yet again, he whines while she guided his chin up with her palm. “Please?” Oh~, She cooed, watching as Matt’s lips parted oh so sweetly, her thumb trailing across his bottom lip that had pushed out into a pout. “You’ve had all night.” I know, he whimpered out. “Speak up.” The girl murmured, tilting her head at him in disapproval. “I know.” The triplet repeated breathily, his voice now verging on a groan.

What was he playing at? The girl couldn’t help but feel her lips tug at the corner, watching as Matt slowly lowered his lips to her navel, tongue gliding out and licking a stripe along the surface. “What’re you doing, hm?” She forced her voice to stay strong, despite the shaky undertone it held as he offered an innocent shrug, eyes hooded with desire as he blinked up at her while kissing down her abdomen. Matt got lost in his own little world, panting as his teeth suddenly came in contact with her faded pink bloomer shorts, wanting nothing more then to tug them down.

He needed it, his body pleading for it as he ever so desperately sought his release by rocking his hips into the mattress. “Ah, ah－” a whimper emitted his lips as he drew his gaze upward, hearing his girlfriend’s tut as he stilled. “Where’s your manners?” He whined, sensing her disappointment in his actions. He was being bad. Sorry, he murmured with a whimper lacing his tone. ‘Sorry, sorry, sorry－’ he repeated, rubbing his stubbly cheek agaisnt her soft stomach as a silent apology.

The feeling of his unshaven scruffy jaw tickling her stomach has her thighs twitching, her teeth biting on her lip to keep her composure as she imagines the feeling of his rough cheeks in between her thighs. “Shhh’,” Matt leans into her touch, practically moaning as she threaded a hand through his tousled hair. “Jus’－ please.” It hurt. His loose sweatpants now felt rather snug around his hips, and his skin suddenly grew hot without her hands touchingly trailing across his body.

“Stop whining,” she muttered, and Matt shrunk under her domineering gaze. A darkness had settled behind the surface of her eyes, pupils having grown in size as she follows his every move. “if you want something, ask for it. No more whining.” Sniffling, he felt a pearl of pre-cum drip from the tip of his aching cock, wanting nothing more than to tug off the uncomfortable sweats. “Wan’ you to touch me.” Matt said meekly, looking at the girl with a longing look of desperation.

An hum of understanding left her lips as she brushed a few hairs away from his eyes. “You want me to touch you, baby?” Matt opened his mouth, prepared to let out a soft whine before he was shut down by her hardened glare. “Mommy.” He finally whimpered out, tears sticking to his lower lash line. She couldn’t help but coo at the sight of her boy so desperate. So whiny and pathetic, at the hands of his own actions. “Hm? You want mommy, doll?” Matt’s blinks were long and thick, looking almost as if he were in a trance while gazing at the dominant girl.

“Not wan’, need.” And that was all it took. The girl saw how Matt’s hands softly trembled, seemingly overwhelmed as he huffed out small breaths. “Here, puts those here, hm?” Two of her hands guided his large ones to the hem of her shorts, the boy immediately letting out an incoherent murmur of relief as he began to tug them down her thighs. “Ah, ah－ patience.” She scolded lightly, the bed frame creaking every so slightly has he rutted his hips into the plush mattress.

The shorts toppled off the edge of the bed in a bunch, within seconds Matt was already slipping two fingers on each side of her underwear to slip them down her hips. “－thas’ it- yes, please－” The boy whined small murmurs to himself, his face looking pained as he ran his tongue across his teeth. “Such a good boy.” She praised, cooing. His eyes were hooded, a thick swallow following as he peered up at her. “Mhm.” Matt felt his mouth practically water as her panties finally joined her shirts on the floor, his eyes gleaming as they took in the sight of her glistening, pretty pussy.

His morals were drowned in desperation, the concept of asking －let alone begging, completely dismissed as he lowered his lips. “Matt,” a hand buried itself in the boy’s hair, tugging at the soft strands as she scolded his behaviour. “where’s your manners?” The triplet moaned softly, a hand squeezing her thigh as a silent apology. It was almost amusing. She couldn’t stay mad at him when he was in such a state, drool pooling at his lips as he hungrily took in her bare body. “have I been doing a bad job a teaching you how to be a good boy?” A whine drawled from his lips, frowning as he shook his head vigorously.

It wasn’t his fault, he thought to himself. She was so warm, and smelled so sweet. Her pink hole was dripping, wetting her folds as cum and arousal slid down her cunt. How could he not want to devour her? “Take your time,” her hand fisted his hair, tipping his head down as he let out a gentle breath of relief. “don’t always get to do this do you, hm?” Matt didn’t respond, instead capturing her lower lips with his hot mouth. “Fuck.”

Her jaw went slack as the feeling of his pulsing hot tongue ran up her core, nudging her hole as his breath fanned against her clit. Matt’s hand held her hips in a painful grip as they attempted to rise off the bed, pinning her lower half down with every ounce of strength he had. “－oh fuck, Matt－shit!,” her eyes rolled back as he nipped at her clit, a moan mixed with a pained hiss escaping her parted lips as his rough hands pushed her hips into the bed with force.

He hungrily lapped at her cunt with soft pants and moans, dazed with a pussy-drunk expression gracing his soft features as the girl’s body thrummed. The nerves in her core would spike every time the ridge of his nose nudged against her clit, the stubble scattered across his jaw tickling her inner thighs as he pushes his face deeper into her parted thighs. It’d been weeks, Matt thought as a strings of moans left his girl’s lips.

Tears threatened to fall from his eyes as he panted against her sopping pussy, incoherent babbles leaving his flushed lips as he rutted his hips into the mattress pathetically. “Awh’, baby.” His eyes drooped as a hand tightened around a fistful of his brown locks, tilting his head up to meet the domineering girl’s gaze. “hard to focus on making mommy feel good, and you at the same time?” Spit dribbled from his lips, making her thighs twitch as the string would land directly atop her aching heat.

A small bob of his head was all it took for the girl’s harsh domineer to shatter, eyes softening as she ran the hand down the side of his head. “I’ll help you after you’re done, hm?” The girl offered, tipping her head to the side as she watched his eyes spark with lust. Please, he whined, making the girl chuckle. “Then we gotta’ stop that－don’t we?” She gritted out, eyes hardening as Matt chose just then to rut his hips into the bed.

The same hand that had been resting on his jaw slid down until it was weaved around his neck, making a moan bubble from Matt’s lips as he took then to lick a stripe up her pussy. Her thighs squeezed around his head at the abrupt motion, a moan tearing from her lips as her head craned back. “Fuck－ that’s it－that’sss a g’boy.” It wasn’t often that she allowed Matt to go down on her, but when she did, the girl always wondered why she didn’t let him do it more. It always felt so fucking good, different than how her past partners would make her feel.

She narrowed down to it being because Matt always wanted to do it. It was almost never her who initiated oral－unless it was her going down on him. He pleaded, and begged, cried out just to have a little taste of her until she’d give in. Because when it came down to it, he needed it more than she wanted it.

Matt’s eyelids were heavy, batting with lust as he peered up at her while swivelling his tongue past her lips, savouring the sweet taste of her on his tongue. The muscles of her cunt would tense and tighten around his tongue every time he slid the tip past the divot of her hole, making her thighs twitch. “Matt,” she grunted, eyes clamped shut as she attempted to keep her strong exterior. “Hm?” Fuck. Her jaw fell down as nipped at her clit, a slurping sound filling the room as he molded his raw lips against the sensitive bud.

A euphoric feeling rolled down her spine, as if a pleasurable chill shook her body as she moaned out. “Fuck－ fuck－oh my god－” Something so deep inside of her shattered, a mix of Matt’s breath feathering against her core, the gruff itch of his stubbly cheeks scratching the inside of her thighs, and his hot mouth feasting away at her heat. All of it. “Baby－” Matt let out a small grunt, the sound verging on a subtle moan as her thighs shook aside his head. “God.” Submission.

A warmth enveloped the triplet’s entire body, a cloudy haze surrounding his skin, body, and soul as he felt every worry and doubt soar away from his aura. It was if the switch in his mind that made him feel so human, had just disappeared. Evaporated. Dissociation but in the best way possible, because he had her. “－Matt? －Matt, baby.” The girl’s hoarse voice was muffled to Matt’s ears as he babbled incoherently, eyes fluttering as he felt a gentle hand cup his cheek.

She felt her heart pick up a beat as she caught sight of his eyes, the boy’s pupils bigger than ever as he gazed at her lustfully. He was on a high, and he didn’t know if he wanted to ever come down from it. “I’m here－shhh ..” Matt crawled atop her warm embrace, burying his face into the crook of her neck with a shaky whimper. He felt .. unreal. So amazingly euphoric. “That’s it, that’s a good boy.” Fuck.

The boy’s whimpers slowed into small pants as she ran her pointed nails down his skull, chills erupting down his arms as a shake coursed through his bones. Huh .. the girl let out a small sound, making Matt lift his head from her neck. “Matt?” the boy visibly swallowed, blinking softly as an attempt at easing the trouble he was about to endure. “－did you already come?” Yep, he was royally fucked.

She bit down on her lip and squeezed her thighs around his hips as he just offered a whine, pushing his face into his chest. “M’sorry,” Matt whimpered softly, sniffling. “needed it－felt so good－I’m sorry.” He felt scolded as she hummed. “We’re gonna have to fix that entitlement then, hm?” Matt stilled, lifting his head from her shoulder with a shaky gasp eliciting his bitten lips.

“Get on your knees.”

୨ৎ－ @fratbrochrisgf @jetaimevous @sturnstvs @sturniolosarethebest @stonermattsgf @imwetforyourmom @st7rnioioss @endereies @pkfferoo @mqttittude @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @cherib3lla

[flippinpancakes64]

The Cullens reacting to their partner being missing.

Some people kidnapped the wrong person at the wrong time, what would the Cullens do in that situation? How would they take care of her after finding her?

I love your work, I can read everything you've done over and over again, have a nice day!

The Cullens when you’ve been kidnapped

Thank you so much for the kind words! It always makes me so happy when you guys say that you like my works so much!

Also I know I just opened requests… but I am closing them again 🥲 sorry guys. I have over 20 requests in my inbox rn and I don’t want them to pile up too much! Please be patient with me

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

You told him that you were going to your friend’s house

Initially, he wanted to walk you there, but you refused

It was the middle of the day and you can take care of yourself

So off you went

You were supposed to text him when you got there, but a text never came

He was getting antsy

It was only a minute or two after you should have gotten there, but he was ready to bolt out the door

His concerns were solidified when Alice rushed into the room and he saw the vision of you getting tackled and pushed into a van in her head

He was on his way in a second

He followed your faint scent until it stopped in front of a warehouse

He didn’t bother to stop and listen through the doors, he just barged in

You were tied up on the floor, unconscious

Two men were nearby in the middle of an argument

You weren’t the person they were supposed to get, but rather someone who looked a lot like you

Either way, they were screwed

Edward wasted no time in killing both of them

He scooped you up and ran all the way to Carlisle’s clinic

He insisted that you stay the night to make sure you were okay

He is not leaving your side after that

You’re not even gonna be allowed to walk the five feet to the bathroom without him

Sorry not sorry

If he was alive, he would have almost had a heart attack, and he’s not about to have that happen again

Alice:

She was so preoccupied with visions at the moment

There was a tracker vampire who seemed to have it out for Jasper, so her mind was constantly tracking him

You felt bad even bothering her to tell her you were going to the mall

She just gave you an absent nod as you left

She was watching the vampire in her mind, watching as he made different choices, chose different paths

She was so distracted she completely disregarded the vision of you

She only noticed your absence when the sun began to sink behind the horizon and you were still nowhere to be found

It took her a lot of thinking to even remember where you had gone

Instantly, she took out her phone and tried to call you, nothing

A text, nothing

Your location had been turned off too

Then she caught another vision

This time of a group of men holding a gun to your head and pulling the trigger

Instantly, she was up

She replayed the scene over and over in her mind, trying to track down where exactly you were before it was too late

She flew into the basement of the house just in time, the men were loading the gun as she burst in

Swiftly, she knocked everyone out, and killed the man with the gun

You were in hysterics, so scared of what almost happened but also relieved to see your girlfriend

She just held you for the rest of the night, apologizing over and over about leaving you for so long, about not noticing that you’d been gone

From that point on, she made sure to ALWAYS tune in whenever a vision had you in it

Jasper:

You wanted to go out to the club

But Jasper’s not really into that scene

He’s gone with you a couple of times, but it’s never his first choice

So when you ask him if he wants to go, he declines

He accompanied you two days ago, that’s his club tolerance for the week

So you get all dressed up, give him a kiss goodbye, and you’re out the door

He isn’t too concerned, you’re going with your friends after all

He does start to worry, though, when 2 am rolls around and you’re still not home

Usually, you’re home around 1, but sometimes you spend the night at your friends house

He calls you, nothing. He texts you, nothing. So he calls one of your friends

She answers completely wasted and says she hasn’t seen you in a little bit

You went to the bathroom a couple of hours ago and she just assumed you went home or something

He always knew that friend was an idiot

He’s out the door in a flash, driving down to the club you were supposed to be at

He sees your car out in the front lot, and right next to it, a suspicious looking white van

Inside, he can hear your muffled screams

He rips open the door and sees a man holding a knife to your throat, asking you all manners of questions that you have no clue how to answer

Jasper’s always been very cautious about how he acts around you, he doesn’t want you to see him as a monster

But in this instance, he gives in to the beast

He’s shaking by the time the man is dead, and he frees your from your restraints

He needs the rest of the night to wind down and just hold you

He apologizes over and over for scaring you, for leaving you alone, that that even happened in the first place

Does not leave your side ever again

Rosalie:

You and Rosalie were out on the town

You wanted to go see all of the new shops that had moved downtown, and she couldn’t say no even if she tried

So off you went, coffee in hand and Carlisle’s credit card in Rosalie’s pocket

You were in a boutique, looking through all of the pretty dresses, when you found a beautiful dark blue velvet dress that you thought Rosalie would look perfect in

So you found her size on the rack and shoved her into a fitting room

Only while she was in there, a group of three guys came up behind you and grabbed you, pulling you outside

They didn’t get very far though before Rosalie stopped them

She ran out of the dressing room, dress still on

She set off the sensors as she ran into the street

She roundhouse kicked one of the guys, knocking out three of his teeth in the progress

The other guys she simply punched and they were down, crying for their mommies

Luckily, they didn’t have the chance to hurt you

So even though you were shaken up, you were okay

As she’s standing there holding you, waiting for the police to arrive, you have the nerve to laugh

“What the hell are you laughing about? You almost died!”

“You look really pretty in that dress, Rose”

She just rolls her eyes and kisses you

Emmett:

You were at one of your friend’s apartments in the city center

He was moving in and asked if you would come help

So obviously you said yes and obviously you brought your mountain-sized boyfriend who could lift the whole moving van

The three of you were working hard, grabbing stuff from the van and carrying it up the stairs

You had sat down on the ledge of the sidewalk for a second, catching your breath and drinking some water when a guy came up to you out of nowhere and tried to grab you

Emmett heard you and dropped everything instantly

But by the time he got down the stairs, you were gone

He could hear your muffled scream getting fainter as the man dragged you farther away

He bolted as fast as he could in the direction of your voice

When he caught up, he didn’t even bother asking questions

Punch first, questions later

Only he killed the guy

Not that he’s upset that he did, he’s just sort of frustrated that he’ll never get to know why that asshole thought it would be a good idea to try to take his partner

Either way he’s not letting you out of his sight

The only place he relaxes is when you’re at home and safe

Constantly on guard

Poor guy just needs to relax

Esme:

You had been begging her for a week straight to come with you to this concert

But it was a slipknot concert, and definitely not her speed

She entertained you for a little bit and listened to some of their music to see if she would want to go with you, but yeah that wasn’t happening

So eventually you gave up and decided to ask one of your friends to go

She promised she would make it up to you when you got home, only you never showed up

It was getting late, nearing 3 am, and you were still nowhere to be seen

She tried calling, texting, anything, but you weren’t there

She was getting really worried, when suddenly she got a call from your friend

Your friend was in hysterics, crying and screaming, it was hard to understand them

But from what she gathered, your friend’s ex boyfriend had showed up and drugged you, dragging you away from your car

And from what else she gathered, he wasn’t intending on taking you, but rather your friend

She immediately got in her car and sped down to the concert center

When she got there, there were at least 4 cop cars

Your friend was standing next to one, talking to an officer when Esme showed up

The officer pointed her in the direction of a different cruiser, and you were inside, blissfully asleep

She could have started crying she was so relieved

She got the story from one of the officers, apparently the ex realized he had the wrong person and turned around to try to get your friend, only to see that the police were already there

Stupid idiot

You didn’t remember a thing when you woke up, which was probably for the best

Oh well, at least now Esme will go with you to every concert

Carlisle:

He has a lot of enemies

Even though he has tried so hard over his expansive lifetime to be cordial to everyone, some people just can’t be reasoned with

He knows this, but he never thought anyone would go after you

He was at the clinic when he got a call from Alice, saying that she saw a man with red eyes taking you in your sleep and killing you

She didn’t recognize him, but after giving his description, Carlisle knew exactly who it was

He figured he had a couple of hours to get to you and prepare for the man’s arrival

But he didn’t

He took a lunch break at work and drove to your house, intending to warn you of what was to come later that night

Only you weren’t there

Your bedroom window was broken and your sheets were tossed all over the bed

Not to mention the stench of vampire that permeated the room

He completely forgot about your midday naps

He was instantly in searching mode

He got Alice and Edward to help track you down, both of their skills valuable for this

He found you in an old factory, a bite on your ankle that was slowly filling you with venom

While Edward and Alice killed the man, he sucked the venom from your wound, the whole time praying that you would be okay

You were knocked out cold for a week after that

He kept you at his home clinic, making sure to keep an eye on you at all hours of the day

He feels so guilty

But the moment you wake up and look so happy to see him, he feels better

Vampire! Bella:

She’s had her fair share of danger

I mean, when she was human she was a magnet for it

But in her time of knowing you, you’ve never posed much of a threat to yourself

So she’s never been too worried about you

You had asked her earlier if she wanted to go to the movies with you, and she had declined

She needed to go hunting, and it was going to be a perfect night for it

So you both went your separate ways

She left her phone at home, opting to keep it safe while she throws herself around the woods

When she gets home, it’s late, and you’re nowhere to be seen

She opens her phone to call you, only to find you already left her a voicemail

Not a good sign

She listens to it, and she can hear you whispering, your voice quivering with fear

You’re in the trunk of a car, and you have no idea where you’re going. You don’t know the guys who took you, and you’re scared

That’s all she needs to hear

It doesn’t take her long to track you down, your scent very prominent to her

On the other side of the door to the house you’re in, she can hear two guys arguing about what to do with you

Apparently you saw something you shouldn’t have seen

Oh well, now they’re going to see the last thing they’ll ever see

She feels a little guilty about killing the guys, but on the other hand she doesn’t

They had the gall to kidnap her partner, so they can deal with the consequences of that

You are now not allowed to leave the house without her

She follows you everywhere

And she’s always super close

Yes, she even follows you to the bathroom

No one will ever touch you again

[shewroteaworld]

How He Made You Feel

Pairing: Jake Peralta x Reader

Premise: Right before the first sleepover of your romantic relationship, Jake puts a high school teacher behind bars for attempted sexual assault. The case brings up some difficult high school memories for you.

Warnings: mentions of sexual assault, mentions of sexual harassment, downplaying of sexual harassment

Word count: approx. 2,500

A/N: I'm back! Let me know in the comments if you want more Jake Peralta fics. (I'm not sure there's an audience for it.) Hope you enjoy! <3

Jake Peralta is the king of cinnamon buns. Eating the ones you bake, that is. 

“This is like heaven on my tongue!” He moans. He licks some cream cheese frosting off the top. “Babe, these are seriously amazing.”

Your back relaxes. “Thanks, Jakey.”

Right after your shift at the 99th precinct, you zipped to your apartment to chill before the first sleepover of your romantic relationship (no pressure). Rather than chillaxing, your anxiety sparked, and kneading dough became the outlet. Your in-a-pinch cinnamon buns never fail to soothe your soul or anyone’s taste buds. Now that you’re in his kitchen, you’re grateful for the baking conniption. Jake’s indulgence gives you a moment to ground.

As he gulps down another bite, his eyebrow quirks. “Jakey?” He flashes that cheeky grin you love to hate.

Your face warms. “I never said that.”

“Nope! No take backs! It’s on the record!”

You scoff. “Aren’t you a little young for hearing loss?” 

“Hey!” He pokes the edge of your forced frown. “You said it, and you know it, and it was adorable.”

Your heart beats in your ears. “You liked it?” 

Jake’s eyes soften. “Yeah, I liked it.” He smirks mischievously. “And you’re getting all mushy on me.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please, Peralta.” 

“I’ve got you wrapped around my finger.” He pokes your side.

You jerk away. “You don’t, and you know it.”

“If you say so! But I know what cutesy-nickname territory means.”

The buzz of his phone spares you from his ribbing. “Our DoorDash is here. I’m going to pick it up downstairs.” Jake slips on his slides.

“Kay. Thanks.”

He leans over his kitchen chair to kiss your cheek. “Course. BRB.”

Jake rushes out his apartment door. In his absence, you observe his place: the mopped kitchen tile, his clean olive green couch, his stash of beginner recipe books tucked on a shelf above a kitchen counter. When you first transferred to the 99, you couldn’t imagine Peralta had an inkling of an organized domestic in him. 

Your tan trench coat hangs next to his leather NYPD jacket on the coat rack in the hall. Your heart palpitates. That was the first stitch of your domestic lives being sewn together. You wring your hands.

Jake doesn’t care about stains. You’ll eat Indian take-out from the container while watching some corny comedy he loves and you bemoan on his bare sofa. You tidy the kitchen table anyway.

The wave of anxiety begins to crest as you straighten junk mail from random magazines and political campaigns. You brush crumbs off the new placemats you forced on him through Office Secret Santa. (Weave placements are a recipe for soup-spill disasters.) You leave the manila files of cases he’s working on untouched off to the side.

You pour two tall glasses of water.  So what if you ordered drinks? Jake’s bloodstream will become half orange soda if someone doesn’t counteract his addiction.

Just as you’re setting the glasses down, there’s a knock on the door.

You jump. Your hand jerks, sending a manila folder flying to the floor, its confidential contents scattering behind the island on impact. Shit. 

“Forgot my keys, babe!” Jake calls.

“Coming!” 

Upon opening the door, a smiley Jake awaits you, holding a white cardboard box to his chest. The mouth watering aromas wafting from it don’t calm your cortisol levels. 

His head tilts. “Why the long face?”

You step aside. “When you knocked, I jumped and slapped one of your files off the kitchen table. I’m sorry.”

His brow furrows. “It’s no problem.” He says, as if he doesn’t understand why you’re on edge. 

“Everything spilled out.” You elaborate. Though you wouldn’t describe Jake as neat, he’s particular. Though the order of his files and notes are Greek to everyone else, it makes sense to him. He hates when someone “tidies” it without his permission.

Jake walks towards the kitchen. “Yeah, on the floor, not another dimension. It’s okay. Besides, it doesn’t need to be in any specific order– I closed that case today. I’m returning everything to the file room first thing.”

You trail behind him. “Did you close while I was uptown with Boyle?”

“Yep.” He plops the takeout box on the table. He kneels down to gather the rogue papers. “While you were out gathering evidence, I was cracking the code on this creep.”

Your eyebrows knit. “Sexual assault case?” You sort your take out into categories: his, hers, and shared. 

Jake taps a stack of papers straight against a countertop. “Attempted.  And he was a fucking high school teacher. Luckily, it was all on security cam. Easy win.”

The styrofoam carton of lamb samosas trembles in your hand. “That’s upsetting.”

“Majorly. Sadly, he’ll probably get off easy. I mean it was attempted. Not that it should’ve been full-on assault or that what happened isn’t terrible–”

“I understand what you mean, Jake.” You assure. It’s how sex crimes go. 

You open your potato samosa carton. “These are the bomb dot com,” you say. It’s an easy lay up for him.

“That ass is the bomb dot com!” Your chest loosens at the change of topic.

You shoot Jake a glare. He puts his hands up. 

He picks up the last of stray papers as you grab plates and utensils.  When he’s done, he grabs the drink holder, your Pineapple Fanta and your pink lemonade each tucked in a cardboard slot. “Let’s go sit, m’lady.”

You reach for the drink holder with your free hand, but he twists his torso away. He nods towards the living room. “Relax. Pick a show. Remote’s on the coffee table.”

When Jake joins you on the couch, you immediately reach for your potato samosas.

“You weren’t kidding when you said those were your favorite.” Jake chuckles.

“Absolutely not. Try the lamb. They should be in the center– that’s the shared column.”

Jake affectionately rolls his eyes. “You treat life like an Excel spreadsheet.”

“Someone has to.” The cold condensation on your small pink lemonade chills your hand. “Hopefully, a detective would.”

He grabs his chest as if you struck him. “Your passive aggression is a stab to my heart!”

You pop open the container of jasmine rice. “What subject did that teacher teach?” You ask.

“The creeper?”

“Mhmm.”

Jake opens a container of chicken saagwala. “History.”

You hum disappointedly. “History teachers were always the coolest. Especially the male ones.” You stab your plastic fork into the rice and reach for the curry. 

“Now I wish I slept less in history class.” Jake remarks. 

You stare blankly at the coffee table as you spoon your (hopefully) extra spicy curry onto your plate. 

The couch sighs as Jake sinks back into the cushions, his left arm stretching to lay behind you on the sofa’s back. “Such a scumbag. The girl was barely legal–could’ve been one of his own students. To make matters worse, she looked 16.”

In your head, you count your breaths. You zone in on the white grains of rice you’re absentmindedly pushing into your curry sauce. 

You see your high school hallway. You remember the misery, the pressure. Mr. Johnston.

“You listening to me, babe?”

He taps your calf with the tip of his slide. You flinch.

“Sorry,” he says. Didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“That’s alright.”

In your peripheral vision, he leans forward. “You okay?”

You nod. “I’m great.” You click on his TV. “Just got a bit lost in my thoughts for a second.”

You feel Jake studying your side profile.

You click on Netflix. “Let’s do something lighthearted.” You drop down to his My List. Thankfully, you don’t have to search long to find something passable. 

“This one okay?” You ask. “I’ve been wanting to watch this too.”

“More than okay.”

The strings of the production company’s opening music fill the living room. You fiddle with your fork. Queasiness bites at you.

You need to shake this. This was your first sleepover with Jake. Don’t ruin this experience for yourself. It was so long ago. Nothing happened. It was uncomfortable, but you were alright. It was nowhere close to what that victim experienced. You’re fine. Is your asthma acting up?

You rest your plate on the coffee table. “Keep watching. I need the restroom real quick.”

You speed walk across the apartment to his bathroom, locking the door behind you. You turn the faucet to screeching cold. You dip your head into the basin and splash ice water in your face.

Your lungs gasp open from shock. Your brain drops back into your body. 

Everything’s safe. You’re okay. Tonight will be great. Don’t let some creep going to trial rattle you like this and ruin the evening.

You find a clean towel in a drawer and dry your face. After taking a detour to his bathroom to toss it in his hamper, you take three final deep breaths, your hand over your heart.

You’re fine. Nothing’s happening.

You return to the couch with a soft smile. “Sorry, Jake.” 

“No problem. You okay?” He asks again.

You hate lying to him. “Yeah, I just had to pee.” 

The movie snaps back to action. Though you didn’t ask, he paused for you. As the film unfurls, as predicted, you poke fun at the plot and Jake ardently defends it. The banter warms you, but the knot in the pit of your stomach refuses to unfurl.

Once your plate is clean, you lay your head on Jake’s shoulder. As the leading actress does something you don’t register, Jake’s laughter ripples through your hollow chest. 

It was so long ago. Nothing happened. It was uncomfortable, but you survived it. He never touched you. It was so long ago. He must be retired by now. It wasn’t your fault. There was nothing to be your fault. Nothing criminal happened. Nothing. It was so–

“(Y/N).”

You gasp. You snap up straight. The movie’s been paused. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t get your attention.” Jake says gently. 

Your heart sinks. “It’s…I’m just in my head.” You roughly run a hand through your hair. “So sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. What’s wrong?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You stare at your knees.

Jake intertwines his fingers with yours. “It’s definitely substantial for you to be distracted like this.” He squeezes your hand. “I’m here.”

You smile sadly. “I don’t want to bring the vibe down.”

“Acquiring (Y/N) lore rivals catching bad guys as my favorite thing to do. Telling me about your feelings could never bring the vibe down. ”

A courteous dismissal gets tangled in your throat. Is that really what you want to say? 

Your free hand fiddles with the end of your hair. “I really don’t know how to talk about this.”

“Take all the time you need.”

You force a deep breath. “Your case threw me off.”

His eyebrows knit. “The teacher–creep one?”

You nod. “The teacher…you said he harassed a young woman who looked 16.”

He nods.

“It reminds me of an experience I had in high school when I was 17.”

His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “How so?” He asks gently.

“There was… this science teacher– Mr. Johnston. One semester, I had to walk by his classroom everyday. I had to walk from my homeroom on the opposite end of the school, so sometimes I would get there right after the bell rang. When I was alone, he would always offer to walk me to class…even though it was only a couple doors down from his.”

Jake nods. 

“He said he was trying to make sure I didn’t get in trouble for tardiness…but he never told my teacher he walked me. And he did it even after he knew I wouldn’t get in trouble and that I was only going two doors down from his classroom.”

“That’s definitely weird.”

“He also used to do this weird thing where he would walk right behind me…I think it was supposed to be copying my walk to tease me. One day, he came up super close behind me– close enough to smell my perfume. All I could think about was how close to my ass he was.”

Anger cuts through Jake’s expression. “Did anyone see this?” 

“Some other teachers did. They didn’t see anything wrong with it…they laughed it off everytime. I guess they saw it as a harmless joke. But, it made me really uncomfortable. Everyday I would pray that he wouldn’t say hi to me or be weird and would just let me walk to class. I figured maybe I was crazy, making something out of nothing, but it just felt wrong. At the time, I tried to block it out, I had other stressors to deal with…but right after I graduated, I reflected on it and other stories I heard about him…and I was creeped out.”

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry. Did you ever report this?”

“I confided in another teacher about it, but I never formally reported anything. I don’t know if he ever talked to his colleague about his behavior. Plus, I didn't think there was anything concrete to report.” You sigh. “It felt so wrong. I remember being so afraid of being alone in a room with him…he was a co-advisor for some extracurriculars I was a part of. There, he was always completely indifferent towards me but in those hallways in the morning…”

“With less people.” Jake notes. “And colleagues who didn’t take his behavior seriously.” 

You nod. 

“(Y/N), I’m so, so sorry. That isn’t okay.”

“I’m still not really sure if anything did happen to me. He didn’t touch me….he just…”

Jake shakes his head. “Followed you down hallways and got close to your body. That’s not okay.” He squeezes your hand again. “How did it make you feel?”

“Violated.” You admit.

Jake nods. “That’s what matters. How he made you feel matters. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

Tears well in your eyes. “Thanks, Jake.”

Jake offers you a tissue. “Do you know what ever happened to that teacher?”

You wipe your eyes. “I believe he retired…not 100% sure.”

His face hardens. “I can track him down if you like.”

“No, Jake…there’s nothing to report. No evidence. Just a dead-end case of “he said she said” from over 10 years ago. Even if I reported it earlier, I doubt anything could have happened.”

Jake groans. “This sucks. I’m sorry for what you went through. No one should feel uncomfortable with a teacher at school. Jesus, every time I think I get what women go through, I learn it’s worse than I imagined. I’m so, so sorry.”

You dab your eyes. “Thank you for not belittling what happened to me. It’s great to have someone like you...you don't downplay what I feel."

He kisses your nose. “It’s part of my boyfriend duties; it’s what I’m here for.”

You press a tender kiss to his lips. “Thank you for being a safe space to talk.”

He returns the peck. “Forever and always.”

Jake Peralta is a goofball. He can be messy– both literally and figuratively. But at the core of it all was a mensch’s heart. 

[heartfullofleeches]

Kaimana [Seahorse Yan] would be happy with a child of any gender, but everything about this man screams girl-mom. All this Seahorse dreams about is a daughter or two that's the splitting image of him and/or his darling - so when responsible, easy going single parent Reader strolls onto his beach with the sweetest little girl by their side, Kai is praying to the gods above this happy family of two might welcome another member - maybe more if Reader is open to the idea of having more children.

-

"Found another one!"

A smile warm enough to melt the most frigid of hearts sprouts across your face as you extend your hand out to the tiny one eagerly waving a seashell in your face. You turn the shell over in your palm - your expression beaming with praise for another remarkable find as you gently place it amongst the growing collection of shells and small rocks given to you. So kind of the bartender to give you an empty cup to place them all in. His generosity extended well beyond that fot letting you sit here at the front when the sign hanging overhead clearly said "paying customers only".

"Might I get you a drink? We have an acceptable sale on specific cocktails this time of day."

"No thank you, I try to avoid alcohol when I'm out with her... My daughter, I mean. You mind if I sit here for a minute? The boss said she wanted to explore on her own and I can watch her safely from here."

Is it foolish to say a heart can be stolen with so few words?

Kai must be the king of all fools if that were true. There are few things more charming than those who care for their young. Those who sacrifice their own pleasure for the benefit of another. The fact he found you considerably more attractive than the average patron only worsened his fantasies. Perhaps it was the lense of your parenting skills guiding his judgement, but you were fairly easy on the eyes. The type of face he wouldn't mind waking up next to every morning for the remainder of his mortal days.

And your daughter-

How could he forget that little angel. She was shy at first, but upon seeing the two of you deep into conversation as she returned from the sand for a second time, she offered a small hello to your new friend and with your gentle assurance felt comfortable enough to offer him a shell-

If this encounter wasn't the heavens answering all his prayers he didn't know what it is.

The absence of a ring on your finger gave him hope. He hadn't seen you before - the chance of you being a tourist rather than a resident of the nearby town was high, but not a definite. Maybe you just moved in. Possibly.... following a divorce? The passing of your former lover? As tragic as either outcome could be, Kaimana itched with longing for the true answer. If your partner truly was out of the picture this was a sign. A chance for him to have the life he's always dreamt of.

"So! Will parent number two be joining you this afternoon?"

Your lips tighten as you usher your daughter off to go play. Sadness? Distain? Kaimana can't quite tell.

"We... don't really talk about them. They aren't exactly in the picture anymore...."

Jackpot.

"Oh, Dear... I am so sorry to hear that. I'm aware you said you wouldn't drink around your daughter, but if you have a babysitter perhaps I can take you someplace else for dinner a night that you are free?"

[whimsicalpolitical]

He’s begging babe stay, stay, stay- Matty Healy x Reader

a/n: self titled era has a special place in my heart and I wanted to write a proper story regarding this era. Sorry if it’s shit and it feels like it’s very long.

content warning: maybe a bit angsty? fluff, smut, 18+ MDNI, p in v, dry humping, fingering, praise, dirty talk

It’s a shit day. All you have done until now is count the hours until your brother Ross is leaving to go on tour with his band.

The past days the boys were at your house just hanging around, smoking and to practice in your garage. You know because you spent time in the living room, pretending to work when all you’ve done is watch him or listen to his voice.

Matty's voice, raw and magnetic, cut through the music. Every time he sang, it felt like the world around you blurred, leaving only his voice in sharp focus.

Some times in their breaks you prayed that he would leave the garage to get a drink and when he did you felt giddy, like a nervous school girl.

Your eyes followed his every move. His black skinny jeans clinging to his body, the black shirt and leather jacket matching his persona. He’s just so attractive.

You’re grateful that Ross is part of the band. The past years have been a blessing because you could innocently see Matty and be around him without it being weird.

Your heart started racing when he entered the room, most of the times it was the middle of the night and you were grateful for the darkness that hid your flushed cheeks. You tried to focus on your breathing, but it was futile. The mere thought of him noticing you made you feel like a bundle of nerves. You had been around these boys all your life, but Matty—Matty was different.

You’re dreading the moment he leaves the house for good..

21:18- You’re sitting on the porch trying to smoke the thoughts away but every drag hurts your lung immensely.

They’re playing ‘you’ right now and you can’t help but close your eyes to the muffled music. You really will cry to the end. Cry until there’s no tears left. Maybe it’s over the top because you can’t even hold eye contact with Matty and he would never fall for you.

You’re very aware of the many different girls he had or has. And you, you had your first kiss a month ago with some football player because you tried to forget about him but you just can’t.

The reality of their imminent departure is settling in. The garage is alive with music, but you feel the weight of the upcoming silence. You will miss Ross, of course. His absence will leave a void in the house, but Matty's absence will leave a void in your heart.

You take another drag, the smoke burning your throat. The stars above are a blur through your tears. You wish you can be brave enough to tell him how you feel, but the fear of rejection is paralyzing. You would rather suffer in silence than risk the delicate balance of your current reality.

As the song changes to ‘robbers’, you let yourself sink into the music. The lyrics feel like they are written for you, capturing the longing and the heartache you can’t express. Tomorrow, they will be gone, and you will be left with nothing but memories and unspoken words.

You exhale slowly, the smoke dissipating into the night air. The porch light flicker, casting fleeting shadows. The night is as restless as you are, and the loneliness is beginning to set in. You hug your knees to your chest, feeling the cold concrete against your skin, and let the tears fall.

The music winds down, the final chords of hanging in the air like a whispered goodbye. You feel the silence settling in, heavy and inevitable. The garage door creaks open, and the boys' laughter floats out into the night, but it feels distant, like it belongs to another world. You crush the cigarette under your foot, watching the embers fade, a mirror to your fading hope.

You’re sitting there hugging your knees, covering your face and you can’t even hear footsteps approaching.

“D’you mind some company?”

This can’t be.

You look up, mascara completely ruined but you wipe your face with your sleeves. Matty is looking at you and his gaze drops, you think it’s almost a bit of worry.

“Shit,” he says, “sorry, I can go if I’m interrupting?”

“No no, it’s ok.” You say, pulling out another cigarette.

He nods as he leans against a wooden beam in your driveway, mirroring your movements by also lighting a cigarette.

The silence is sickening. You sure as hell won’t say anything because he caught you crying like a wimp in front of the door while they are playing their songs.

“S’ it Ross?” You think about how stupid the question is and you agree with Matty even though you want to say, ‘No, it's you.’

"Yeah," you lie, nodding. "It's Ross. Just gonna miss having him around."

Matty takes a drag, his eyes fixed on some distant point in the darkness. "He'll be back, you know. It’s just a tour. He’ll come home."

You nod, the lie sitting heavy in your chest. "I know. It's just... different without him here."

He flicks the ash from his cigarette, the glow illuminating his features for a brief moment. "Yeah, it's always different when someone's gone. Makes you realize how much you take them for granted."

He’s looking at you. He’s seeing you. The way he looks at you makes your breath catch in your throat. There's an intensity in his gaze, a softness that you rarely see. It's like he's trying to understand, to reach out without words.

You wonder how he sees you. Here you are, sitting on the porch with ruined mascara, tears staining your cheeks, and your heart on display. It's embarrassing, and you feel exposed under his gaze. But there's something in the way he looks at you that makes you think he sees more than just the tears and the smudged makeup. Maybe he sees the vulnerability, the raw emotion that you've been trying to hide.

You want to tell him it's not just Ross. That the thought of him leaving is what's tearing you apart. But the words stick in your throat, and you just nod again, staring at the ground.

“Ross became my family as well,” he says softly, “means you’re family too and we all are going to miss you.”

Your heart aches at his words, knowing how much more they mean to you than they do to him. "Thanks, Matty.“

You wonder if it’s the last time you’ll say his name, how long it will take for you to say it again.

“How long until you leave here?” You ask hoping deep down he tells you they won’t leave at all.

“Planned on leaving at 2,” he tries to smile, “punctuality isn’t our strength as you may know.”

You manage a small laugh, though it feels hollow. "Yeah, I know."

He glances at his watch and then back at you. "It's not too late. We still have some time. You should come inside, hang out with us for a bit.”

“I think I’ll stay out here for a bit.” You want to be alone with him, and the thought of being in a room with the whole band right now feels overwhelming. So you decline, shaking your head gently.

He seems to understand, not pushing further. Instead, he surprises you by sitting down next to you on the porch steps. The proximity sends a rush of warmth through you, even in the cool night air.

"Y'know, I've always liked these quiet moments. Sometimes, it's nice to just... be.”

You nod, appreciating his words. "Yeah, it is.”

He turns his head slightly to look at you, and you meet his gaze. There's a softness in his eyes, a hint of something that feels almost like longing.

You notice Matty's smell—a mix of his cologne, a hint of leather from his jacket, and something distinctly him. It’s comforting and intoxicating, a scent you know you'll miss.

You shift slightly, turning to face him. "Do you ever think about what comes next?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looks at you, his eyes reflecting the dim porch light. "Sometimes," he admits. "But it's hard to focus on the future when the present is so demanding."

You nod, understanding all too well. "I get that. But I mean, beyond the tours and the music. What do you see for yourself?"

He takes a deep breath, his gaze thoughtful. "Honestly, I don't know. I guess I hope for something more stable, something real. It's easy to get lost in the chaos, but I want to find something that grounds me." His eyes drop to your lips and if you would have blinked in that moment you would have missed it. “Someone who grounds me.”

“I understand,” you gulp, wanting to be the person.

“I think about it.” You frown, not knowing what he means. “What it would be like to settle down, find someone real.”

“Like a relationship?”

“Yeah,” he says quietly, “someone who just gets it. Would sort me out I think.”

“Maybe.” You could fucking punch yourself. You’re giving short ass answers but you’re scared to say more. You’re scared that if you reveal yourself it would be so much worse when he’s gone.

He leans back slightly, his arm brushing against yours. "Maybe it's not so far off, you know? Sometimes, the right person is closer than you think."

You feel a blush rising to your cheeks, and you look away, hoping he doesn't notice. But he does and he thinks it’s for the wrong reason.

“Do you have a person?” He asks.

“Don’t you think you would know, you’re here all the time.”

He chuckles and it might be your favorite sound. “Alright you’ve got a point there, love.”

Love. It’s a british thing but your heart still skips a beat, and a warmth spreads through your chest, melting away any lingering doubts or fears. The simple term of endearment feels like a promise, a glimpse of something more between you.

“Does it mean you still haven’t had your first kiss yet?” The question surprises you, he’s very forward and it makes you regret that you didn’t wait. Because maybe he could’ve been your first kiss.

“No I had my first kiss,” you say, “wasn’t anything serious though.”

“How was it?”

That’s the Matty you’re familiar with. Not the ‘romance talk’ kind of guy but the guy who has a shit eating grin on his face because he’s experienced and wants to know everything about the sex life of others.

“Not sure,” you cringe, “wasn’t how I imagined it.”

“How did you imagine it?”

“I didn’t imagine him slipping me tongue the second we kiss,” you groan at the memory and he laughs, “and he was just so violent, didn’t really feel good.”

He hums, stepping out the cigarette. “S’ a bummer, everyone should know how a good kiss feels.”

You don’t know what he’s hinting at because it would be dumb to assume he’s projecting the statement on to you.

“Not every guy is like that.” He says and your eyes find his again, “mate was bloody inexperienced.”

Matty is only 23 years old, three years older than you. Can’t be that much of a different between the guys.

"Yeah, well, it's not like I've got a lot of experience either," you admit, feeling a bit exposed.

He gives you a sympathetic look, but there's a playful edge to it. "Experience isn't everything, love. It's about the connection, the moment. And trust me, when it's right, you'll know."

You do know. You know with him, you’re sure that you want to kiss him. You want to experience life with him, do everything.

“A good kiss shouldn’t leave you feeling anything but wanted.” He shifts closer, his thigh now next to yours.

You look at him, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach. "Yeah?"

He nods, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah.”

You can feel the electricity in the air as Matty leans closer, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. Your mind is a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, fear, longing. For years, you’ve harbored these feelings for him, tucking them away in the corners of your heart. He’s always been more than just your brother’s bandmate. He’s been the one who makes your pulse quicken, the one whose presence can light up your entire day.

You've watched him with other girls, feeling a pang of jealousy each time. You've imagined what it would be like to be the one he looks at with that mischievous grin, the one he holds close in the quiet moments. And now, here you are, on the brink of something you’ve dreamed about for so long.

Your thoughts are a jumble, your heart pounding in your chest. You want to kiss him so badly it aches. The desire has been building for years, a slow burn that has now become an overwhelming flame. The way he makes you feel—giddy, nervous, hopeful—no one else has ever come close. He’s the reason you find yourself smiling for no reason, the reason your heart feels too big for your chest sometimes.

You glance at his lips, and the anticipation makes your breath hitch. You’re nervous, of course you are—this is Matty, the guy you’ve loved from a distance for so long. But beneath the nerves, there’s a deeper, more insistent feeling: the need to finally close the gap, to feel his lips on yours and know what it’s like to be kissed by him.

You swallow hard, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. "Matty, I... I don't know what I'm doing."

"That's alright, love. Everyone's gotta start somewhere. Just tell me what you want." He gives you a reassuring smile, his hand brushing against yours.

You take a deep breath, gathering your courage. "I want... I want to know what a good kiss feels like."

His smile widens, a glint of something mischievous in his eyes. "Well, I can help with that."

You nod, feeling a rush of anticipation.

He leans in slowly, giving you time to back away if you want. But you don't. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips meet yours.

The kiss is gentle at first, his lips soft and warm against yours. There's no rush, no urgency, just a slow, deliberate exploration. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

You relax into the kiss, feeling the spark, the connection. It's everything he said it would be—electric, grounding, and utterly unforgettable.

It's like every dream, every late-night fantasy you've ever had is coming to life in this single, perfect moment. His lips are warm and soft, moving gently against yours, and it feels as if time has stopped.

Your heart is racing, pounding so hard you're sure he must feel it too. There's a nervous excitement bubbling inside you, mingling with a deep, almost overwhelming sense of joy. The kiss is tender, unhurried, and you can feel the care and attention he's giving to every movement. It's everything you imagined and more.

Years of unspoken longing, of watching him from afar and wishing for this very moment, flood through you. You've dreamed of this kiss, of being close to him like this, feeling his breath mix with yours. The reality of it surpasses every fantasy, every hopeful thought. The connection you feel is electric, a spark igniting between you that sends shivers down your spine.

His hands are gentle, one cupping your cheek, the other resting lightly on the small of your back. The warmth of his touch sends shivers through your body, grounding you in this moment. The way he holds you feels protective, yet respectful, as if he's cradling something precious.

You almost whine when he pulls back.

“How’s that?” He asks, a soft murmur, his thumb still caressing your cheek.

You don’t have any words. You have to concentrate that you won’t start crying because of all the things you felt while his lips were on yours.

“Where’s your mind gone, love?” He asks, lifting your chin, not even realizing that you dropped it. “Care to tell me?”

He stops and he puts his hand back to his own body. You’re scared now, that you’ve done something wrong, that you’re too innocent for him.

“Was the kiss shit?”

“No!” It comes out way too fast, “it was the opposite.”

You can tell he’s relieved but he still doesn’t know why you’re reacting this way.

“I just don’t- ugh,” you groan.

“Take your time.”

You would but the truth is you don’t have time.

“I don’t want it to end but I don’t think you realize what you’re doing to me.” You admit and it’s a huge step for you.

“I think we have a lot to chat about hm?” He says and stands up. You don’t, you only stand up when he offers you his hand.

Matty’s hand reaches out, his fingers slowly intertwining with yours. The contact is gentle yet firm, his touch sending a thrill through your body. Your fingers are cold from the night air, but his are warm, and the contrast makes you shiver slightly.

The warmth of his hand spreads through you, soothing the anxiety that had been knotting in your stomach. His fingers fit perfectly between yours, like two pieces of a puzzle coming together. It feels so natural, so right, and you can’t help but squeeze his hand gently, as if to reassure yourself that this is real.

He smiles, his eyes filled with a mix of affection and relief. "Your hands are freezing," he murmurs, his thumb lightly brushing over the back of your hand.

You laugh softly, the sound a little shaky. "Yeah, well, it’s not exactly warm out here."

“Let me talk to the boys real quick, then we can go inside yeah?”

“Sure.” You don’t know what he’s going to say to them, if he’s going to tell them the truth about where he’s going and what he’s doing but on the other hand you don’t even know what he’s doing.

He’s leaving you on the doorstep and you already pull out your keys to open the door. When he comes back you embrace him. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, everything else fades away. He's wearing that familiar smirk, his hair tousled, and you can't help but admire how effortlessly handsome he looks. There's a magnetism to him, a charm that draws you in

“Your room alright to talk?” He asks as you both go inside, where it is a lot warmer. The heat is getting to you and you feel a familiar tingly feeling in your stomach.

You don’t want to wait until you can talk or kiss again or feel him on you. You want to grab his arm and pull him against you and devour him whole. But you’re too shy to let him know.

“It’s straight down the hall,” you mumble, letting him lead you upstairs, his hands now intertwined with yours again.

22:30- And you’re in your room, sitting on the bed which is fucking exciting because Matty is sitting on your bed.

He’s getting rid of his jacket and throws it on a little chair next to your dest. He’s wearing a basic black shirt with a cutout, his tattoo on display for you.

“Talk to me, I want to know what’s on your mind, and clearly there’s a lot on your mind.” You both sit on the edge of the bed and after he’s gotten rid of his jacket he grabbed your hand again.

“I don’t know where to start,” you whisper truthfully.

Matty's hand tightens around yours, and you feel a rush of nerves as you meet his gaze. His eyes hold a mixture of curiosity and warmth, encouraging you to speak your mind.

“I don't know how to say this," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I've... I've liked you for a while now."

He raises an eyebrow, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Is that so?" he says, his tone light.

You nod, feeling a flush creeping up your cheeks. "Yeah. And I don't know... I don't know how to interpret the kiss. Why did you kiss me?"

Matty lets out a soft laugh, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. "Why does anyone kiss anyone?" he replies, his gaze meeting yours. "Because they want to, I s’pose."

You can't help but scoff at his nonchalant response.

“You think too much, love.” He chuckles and grabs your chin to look at him. “I kissed you because I like you as well.”

“You do?” You ask.

This is all happening very fast and you doubt his words, not believing that he likes you.

As Matty's words sink in, you feel like you're floating in a dream. Did he really just say that he kissed you because he likes you too? The thought sends a rush of warmth through your entire being, and you can't help but let out a breathless laugh.

“I do,” he nods.

“Now what?”

“Up to you, love,” your head is pounding, the room is spinning, the kiss from earlier still in your head and you just want the feeling back.

You lean forward to kiss him again, your lips finding his and his hand on the back of your neck, making sure you won’t leave his your place. You can’t breathe which makes you gasp and matty slides his tongue into your mouth.

You didn’t know that this can be hot, you go with the flow, letting your tongue brush against his in a steady rhythm. You’re getting hot, your skin is on fire and you’re sure he can feel it.

You’re panting more than Matty when you both pull back to breathe. Your pupils are already dilated and you’re ready for more. You’re never ready for anything but with Matty it just feels right.

“Can we just do this for a while?” You ask, wanting to be absolutely sure of what you’re going to ask him in a couple of minutes.

“Of course, love, it’s your pace we’re going for.” You smile at his answer but before you can kiss him again he speaks.

“Can you get on my lap, it’s more comfortable this way.” You blush but nod.

You waist no time to sit yourself fully on top of him, your legs on each side of his narrow hips. You stare at him through half lidded eyes, if you were a cartoon there would surely be hearts drawn all over them, as he captures your lips in a slow kiss. The two of you sigh and grunt into each other's mouths, moaning softly when hands met bare skin, pulling and squeezing all the right places. 

“Breathe, love, we’ve got time.”

“We don’t.”

You melt into the next kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck. You feel him, he’s hard and you want to grind your hips but you have self control and you don’t know if that’s what you want.

He feels the same though, wanting to touch you everywhere at the same time, wanting to undress you and show you how much you mean to him.

He finally lets his hands wander over your sides, under your shirt and you sigh into his mouth. You still need more. “Can I touch you here?” He asks, referring to your boobs and you nod.

His hands meet your waist, run over your tummy, and up to your breasts, palming them lightly, not quite the way you are expecting. You grab wherever you can get your hands on — his shoulders, his back, pulling him closer and closer — huffing when it’s getting too much, or too little.

The kisses you share are still slow, sensual, following the rise and fall your shared breathing, but this time he follows your lead, running his hands over your thighs, your hips, grabbing your ass and dragging it over the front of his jeans, where you can feel him. You bite his lower lip, and your eyes are still closed but you can feel his smile.

“Need to tell me f’ you want something,” he says against your lips.

You hum, not saying anything but you roll your hips again, whimpering when the friction is perfect against your clothed pussy.

“Wait, love,” he makes you whine as he stills your hips. “Need to know what you’ve done.”

“Nothing more then kiss.” You say and he’s not even surprised anymore.

“Oh,” he groans, he’s fully turned on and he can’t believe it’s him who’s going to show you how perfect you can feel. “I don’t want to pressure you, I’m fine with kissing.”

“I’m not,” you interrupt, “please just do something.”

You’re begging and it drives him insane. “Alright alright, lay down for me, will you?”

You lay down on the bed and watch him get rid of his shirt, throwing it on top of his jacket. He’s crawling over you, kissing your face before moving down to your neck.

“You touched yourself before though right?”

You nod, feeling too embarrassed to let out words. He’s sucking at your neck so sweetly you’re sure you’ll forget your name.

“Can I?” He refers to your shirt and you answer with a short ‘yes.’ He pulls your shirt over your head and you reveal your black lace bra to him.

He groans, “if you want me to stop,” he says, his lips returning to your fiery skin, trailing barely there kisses down the expanse of your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, hands grasping at his bare sides. “You tell me right away.” His kisses litter your throat, your collarbone, all the way to your breasts. “Understand?”

“Yes,” you moan.

“Clever girl,” the praise goes straight to your core which you are pressing against his bulge.

“Lift up—” he says, giving your thighs a light tap. You lift your hips from the mattress, allowing him room to shuffle the fabric off your legs. You assist him towards the end, fluttering your feet until you could kick the jeans to the floor. Within seconds, he is back between your thighs, this time straddling his shoulders as he settles further down the mattress. His face inches away from your cunt, now only protected by the thin cotton barrier. 

“And when you touch yourself,” he continues, fingers tracing the softest shapes on the outside of your thighs, over your hips. You can feel his hot breath through your panties, and it makes you squirm. “How many fingers do you use?” 

“Two- sometimes three, like to rub my clit though.” You are even surprised that you’re vocal but your eyes are on the clock and you know there’s no time for being shy.

“Can do that f’you, let me?”

“Yes yes.” He slides off your panties.

He never takes his lips off of yours when you feel the pads of his fingers prod at your hole, already leaking with desire. You anticipated his fingers to be much larger than yours, but when he sinks his two digits in, the stretch is satisfying. The way he works up your arousal aiding in how easy it is to slowly pump them in and out, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you. 

“Matty.”

He begins to quicken his pace, the flex of his forearm curving his fingers up into that sweet spot with precision, leaving your toes to clench and your thighs to squeeze around his head.

You are begging for his name like a prayer, the only word you can find as your abdomen tightens, a subtle tremor cursing through your legs.

“You’re a dream come true.”

You brush his hair from his forehead, wanting to have a clear view of his eyes when your jaw falls slack, the euphoric high starting at your core and bursting out over the rest of you.

At first, you couldn’t move, can’t think, couldn’t breathe. But Matty keeps working thumb on your clit and his fingers inside of you through your orgasm so adamantly that your head flings back, and a lewd moan echoing off your lips.

“Fuck,” you whine and when he drags his fingers out of you, you can hear the sound of your slick.

He takes them into his mouth, licking the glistening off of his finger. “Taste so sweet, love.”

He lays completely on top of you again, he’s trying not to rut into your leg but you got him so turned on it hurts.

You whine into his mouth, wanting him to fuck you but it’s your first time and you’re nervous and your mind starts rushing again.

“I got you, love, it’s just me,” yeah that’s the fucking problem. “We don’t need to go any further since you have never.”

“My first time was shit, don’t want that for you,” he continues, now you wonder about the details but maybe he can tell you some other time.

“I want this, with you Matty, no one else.” You earn another kiss to you lips.

“Hang on then,” he stands up to grab his wallet from his jacket and he pulls out a condom, it’s cliche and it’s making you giggle that he has a fucking condom in his wallet.

He pulls his pants down and his boxers and your eyes drop down to his fully hard length which is dripping red. He’s big. Now you’re scared of how it will fit.

He puts the condom on and moves on top of you again. “I’m going slow, don’t want to hurt you now do I.”

“If I do though, you tell me or tap my head okay?”

You nod and he tuts, “tell me, love.”

“I will, I promise.”

His mouth lowers down to yours as he slowly begins sheathing himself inside you, inch by inch. He is taking it slowly, which you appreciate. Feeling tears prick in the corners of your eyes at the painful but pleasurable fullness, he leans down to kiss them away.

“I will make it better yeah?, s’ normal that it hurts.”

Once he’s fully buried inside you he keeps his hips still, peppering kisses all over your face. “Shit,” you hiss, still feeling a sting.

“I know,” he keeps kissing your face, your neck, your arms to try to make it better. “Don’t worry, keep that head here with me.” He realized that you wanted to drift off again, but he keeps you in reality.

After a while the smile that adorns your lips makes him feel relieved, hating that he hurt you even for a minute. Once you are some what used to the feeling of him inside you, you lift your hips gently to show him you are ready. Matty is still hesitant with his movements, that is until you start moaning. The pain still lingers faintly, but the pleasure that’s coursing through you is enough to over come it.

“You’re such a good girl,” your hands grip his shoulders as continues to rock his hips into yours, his pace beginning to speed up. Matty is pressing a messy kiss to your lips, tongues dancing together as he makes love to you. There isn’t a doubt in your mind that this is what making love should feel like.

He brings his finger between your bodies, gently rubbing your clit. You don’t stop the constant cries from falling from your lips, head falling deeper into the pillows behind you. Matty can’t help but groan, your noises spurring him on further.

“You’re doing so good, showing me how good you feel, keep that going.”

Your nails are leaving behind crescents in the skin of his shoulders, but he doesn’t seem to mind. With his available hand he slips a pillow under your hips. Providing him a deeper angle as his thrusts become sharper.

“Stay, stay Matty, stay,” you moan. You both know how you mean those words. Of course you want him to stay inside of you but the real meaning behind those words are that you don’t want him to leave ever. You can’t handle him going away.

“It’s alright, everything’s alright hm,” You can barely get a sentence out, Matty fucking any remaining thoughts from your head.

He knows you aren’t going to last much longer, as your walls repeatedly pulse around his cock. He rubs your clit faster, feeling himself starting to loose it as you scream out his name. Your orgasm shakes your frame, as he continues to fuck you through the euphoria. It only takes a few more thrusts before Matty meets his end, singing you sweet praises as he spills into the condom.

“You’ve done so fucking good, Christ,” you can’t help but smile as he nearly collapses on top of you, his lips leaving kisses anywhere he can reach.

You’re both sweaty and exhausted, as he slowly slips out of you. You try not to wince as you feel so empty, already missing the feeling of him nestled inside you. You wonder if you ever going to know the feeling.

You watch fondly as Matty ties off the condom and tosses it in bin next to your bed. You immediately reach for him once he’s done, pulling him back down onto the blankets with you. Matty lays his head on your breasts with a content sign as you stroke your hand through his hair. The only sounds are of your breathing.

00:30- and you’re cuddling in your bed, you’re clinging to him, holding on to the remaining touch he can give you.

“Are you alright, love?” He asks.

“Yes, thank you matty.”

“Nonsense,” he says, rolling on to his back to pull you on top of him, “thank you, big step for you.”

“Yeah,” you sigh in contentment.

You drape one leg over his thigh, a hand of yours traveling over his tattoos.

“Matty?” You break the silence, looking up at him. You want to tell him how you feel, how he made you feel and how you want him in your life. You don’t want this to be the last time and you don’t want him to come back in two years with some random girl. You want to be his girl.

You think about how you tell him, if you should tell him. Minutes pass and he lifts your chin to give you a kiss. “I know.” Is all he says.

You stay like this for some time, not wanting to know the time.

-

2:15- and you look outside your window to see him driving away.