#this was an old ask that came across my dash
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LOVE the new pfp babe 🧛♀️🦇🩸
ahhh thanks so much babes!! 🥰🖤🖤 it's a piece by irenhorrors on instagram, whom i adore. all of her art is wonderfully spooky.
#i was thinking about bringing the old vampire pfp back but then this came across my dash and i was like 👀#still might bring her back at some point cos she's a classic#asked and answered#kevin-day-is-bi#kate tag
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This is a signal boost for Bashaer and her baby girl! 💜
verified as #231 on el-shab-hussein's list vetted by nabulsi here vetted by northgazaupdates here
Meet Bashaer: a young mother in mourning, holding on to hope for her precious baby girl, Ayla.
Ayla is only three months old; born amidst war and horrific violence, Ayla's birth came after the passing of her father. Omar, Bashaer's husband, was killed while he was gathering desperately needed supplies for his family. This sweet little one never got the chance to meet her father -> please help her have a chance at a life of health, safety, and happiness.
So far, Bashaer has been able to raise $13,523 USD of the $40,000 her family needs to evacuate to Egypt. Can you support them in their time of need?
✅ [CLICK HERE to make a donation!!] ✅
I want to take a moment to honour Omar. Even just a glance at Bashaer's posts will tell you just how much she cherished, loved, and respected this wonderful man. Omar worked in the medical field, and that Ayla will never know him is nothing short of a tragedy.
Please follow her at @bshaeromars-blog and hear her story for yourself. In Bashaer's words:
Omar was not just a doctor, but he was an angel of his mercy to heal his patients with a smile and sweet word. He was a loving and loving husband. He waited for the birth of his daughter Ayla, but he was martyred before he saw her.
Some of you may also know my friends, Safaa 💜 Safaa ( @safaabed8 ) is Bashaer's sister! Myself and several of my mutuals have made posts in support of her own GFM campaign. Safaa asked me to make this post on Bashaer's behalf, so she might come to know the support and love of others in the wider Tumblr community, as she has.
I say this because I want to highlight ideas of community, connection, solidarity, and support.
Many of the Palestinian GFMs you will come across are interconnected: brothers, sisters, cousins, friends, neighbours. These aren't just faces and numbers on your dash. These are people, these are families, with real, heartfelt, genuine connections. I want to emphasize that in one corner of the world, here's me, lifting up the voice of Bashaer; Bashaer, who is blessed to call Safaa her sister; Safaa, who is friends with one of my mutuals; this mutual, who is in turn friends with me!
This whole thing? Its a circle.
And all of us are a part of it, including you.
This is community. This is life; this is humanity. Friends calling to friends; voices calling to voices, people being heard in their time of need, being lifted up, people coming together.
I am asking you not to turn away. Please step up and be a part of this. Bashaer needs your donation, your your reblog, your follow, your compassion. Please donate if you are able. Every contribution, no matter how small, makes a difference 💜
#free palestine#signal boost#go fund me#go fund them#please donate if you can#donations#fundraiser#gaza fundraiser#gaza#free gaza#gaza genocide#bshaeromars-blog#Intisar Abushammaleh#Reem Shaheen#safaabed8#Safaa Abed#vetted#verified
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KINKTOBER DAY 1 - Grooming: Shunsui Kyoraku x Reader
Summary: Paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork. A surefire way for Shunsui's headache to appear. But before it grabs a hold of him, maybe visiting you, a hair stylist in the World of the Living, would give him a much needed reprieve. Also, his hair was in need of a trim anyways.
TW: MDNI! NSFW. Shinigami Shunsui Kyoraku (Post TYBW) with human Reader. I tried to make Reader a bit of a tsundere. Oral sex (fem receiving).
Word count: 2030
Read on AO3 here.
This is a two-parter, with the second part falling under Face Sitting.
Head Captain Kyoraku hung his head and sighed. Paperwork was so cumbersome, there was too many on his desk, too many to read and too many to sign. Damn… how does Nanao do all of this, he thought to himself, slightly regretting giving her time off.
Another sigh echoed the room as he tried to concentrate at the task at hand. Paper after paper, sighs followed by grumbles and muttering from reading strange contracts and requests. Shunsui recognized the familiar pain that was flaring in his skull.
He leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes to try and minimize the approaching headache. It was then, it hit him like a strike of lightning, a brilliant idea on how to get this headache to go away.
Not one to be too irresponsible, he left a message with Lieutenant Okikiba that he’d back shortly.
To see Mr. Kyoraku at your salon was certainly a surprise. You didn’t quite know the man, but he enjoyed your company after you first gave his curly brown hair a simple trim. He came in one day, as you were closing, then would randomly visit you. Sometimes this was when you were already busy with a client, waiting around until you were free, other times it was right when you were closing. The relationship you had was… interesting. You couldn’t deny the immediate attraction to him as he was so handsome, but he also came across as silly that you couldn’t help but laugh at some of his antics and comments.
At the same time, the randomness annoyed you to a degree, so you gave him your number. What shocked you was that it was almost as if he had never heard of a cellphone number before. He stared at the slip of paper with confusion across his face. You remembered that night as you had burst into laughter, and he followed up with, “you have a beautiful laugh” and a dashing smile.
And now, here he was again, showing up when you had just finished with a client, making his way to a seat.
“Mr. Kyoraku! It’s nice to see you, but you need to remember to book an appointment with me.” You laughed as you brushed any remaining cut pieces of hair off your client, paying no mind to him. You attended to your client, as Mr. Kyoraku sat in his seat, his head down.
Once the client left, you were alone in your shop. You had been visited by Mr. Kyoraku several times now, and he would pay a hefty amount for being alone. It startled you the first time, but he said he wanted your complete and undivided attention, and he would pay extra for that.
Which was why he was here, again. How many years has it been since this came to be? But this visit was a bit different, the air was a bit tense. You proceeded to close up shop as Mr. Kyoraku asked you about your day. You focused on sweeping the floor, then looked at him from the mirror in front of you.
“Mr. Kyoraku! What happened?” You gasped, turning around to face him. He wore an eye patch, and an evident scar ran behind it to his ear.
“Oh this? You should have seen the other guy.” He laughed, trying to ease your worry, but without thinking, you held his face as you lightly traced the scar. The worry never faded from your face.
“You’ve always been so sweet to me, my dear.” Mr. Kyoraku said, cupping your hand to his face. He looked at you with his one eye and gave you a tender smile. “I’m alright, you really shouldn’t worry about an old man like me.” You frowned and knew he wouldn’t say much about himself, so you clicked your tongue and pulled him out of his seat.
“So can I assume you’re here for the usual?” You asked, preparing your tools to cut his hair.
He hummed in appreciation, as you draped the hair cutting cape over him. He undid his ponytail, and you began to lightly tussle his locks, “well your hair is super healthy! I hope it wasn’t a hassle to take care of as you recovered from your eye injury, sir.” You asked, politely.
“My dear, you can call me Shunsui.” He smiled at you through the mirror. You blushed at the lack of formality but nodded along. You could sense he was a bit self-conscious, but he had no reason to be. For some reason though, you felt that even if you said that to him, it wouldn’t detract from his insecurity.
You proceeded to trim the ends of his hairs to the shape he preferred. You were no nonsense in your approach, which he had told you before was what he preferred. He could sense your methodical approach, and as he had to move his head up and down, saw how focused you were on him and his hair.
It was… nice being cared for this way.
Then you quickly brushed him and led him to the sinks to wash his hair. “Could you… give me a longer massage today?” Shunsui asked, with a sheepish smile on his face.
“Oh of course, let me just clean your hair first, and I promise to give you the best scalp massage ever!” You exclaimed, wanting to make him feel better.
You carefully lathered and rinsed his hair. The long, brown tresses flowed softly along the sink, your nimble fingers gently detangling his hair. Your fingers made his way to his scalp, and you softly massaged his scalp. Shunsui sank deeper into his chair and let out a content sigh, “that’s great, just what I needed.” He murmured, a large smile gracing his face.
“If you want Mr. Kyo- I mean Shunsui, after I dry your hair, I can give you a back massage. I can see your back muscles are quite tense too.” You asked, noticing the way he was still tense in his chair. He gave you a sincere smile, “I’d love that.”
Once Shunsui’s hair had dried, and he placed his hair in a ponytail again, you led him to one of your spare esthetician rooms where you would give skincare treatments to a few of your clients. The bed doubled as a massage bed, so you instructed him to lay down on it.
Shunsui proceeded to take off his dress shirt, earning a flustered noise from you, “hold on! Let me leave the room.” Shunsui laughed, “it’s alright. We don’t have to be so modest with each other.” Giving you a wink.
“You just like teasing me.” You pouted, as you pushed him on to the bed. It did startle you to see how muscular he was, with mattering of chest hair, but you tried to be professional.
Tried being the operative word.
You placed the cover on top of him and began to feel out his back, noticing where tension was placed across his muscles. You also noticed the faint, timeworn scars across his back.
“You know, Shunsui, we’ve known each other for years… but you never told me what you do.”
“Is that so?” Shunsui replied, with a slight air of indifference, “why don’t you take a guess as to what I do?”
You hummed to yourself, trying to piece together what you knew about him coupled with the scars across his body and eye injury.
“An archery teacher?” You asked, thinking it was a bit of an odd job, but one you could see him do.
Shunsui gave a low chuckle, “no, bows aren’t my weapon of choice.”
Interesting you thought to yourself.
“A kendo teacher perhaps?” As you kneaded a particularly tense muscle of his. Shunsui inhaled sharply from the instant pain, but then relaxed.
“No, but you’re getting slightly warmer.”
Slightly warmer? You questioned. “Have you been working this job for long time?”
Shunsui let out another deep, muffled laugh, “you have no idea.”
“Something to do with the military?” You stopped, peering down at him. Shunsui looked up at you and gave you a lazy smile.
“Close enough.”
Confusion ran through your face, but you were done with his massage. Shunsui sat up on the table, rolling his shoulders and flexing his neck. He let out a loud groan of satisfaction from the relief he felt, “you had no idea how much I needed that.”
But you stared at him with a puzzled look on his face, trying to still figure out his career. Shunsui couldn’t help but laugh at your expression. “You look cute with that look on your face” he chuckled, poking your face.
This earned him another pout from you, “I’m not cute! I’m a grown woman.” This earned another laugh from him.
“You’re both cute and beautiful, how about that?” Shunsui explained, calling your name.
You crossed your arms, pretending to be hurt and mad at what he said, “you have to apologize, you know.” You huffed. Shunsui stared and then gave you a sly smile, cupping your face in his large hand.
“I think I know what to do so you can accept my apology.” Shunsui said, his face hovering close to yours. You closed your eyes as you felt his lips on yours, his hand holding your chin. You could feel the familiar tingles flowing through your body, as the kiss deepened.
He pulled away from you, a lazy, yet satisfied smile crossing his lips. Without a word, he lifted you with ease, putting you back on to the massage table.
“I think you need to take somethings off, if I’m supposed to give you a proper massage.” Shunsui said, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. You quickly shimmied off your bottoms and underwear, then spread your legs wide for him.
“See what I mean, you truly are both cute and beautiful.” Shunsui said in his teasing tone. Your pussy was bare for him to see, not quite wet enough to his liking, but it was a start. He kissed you again, as one of his hands traveled down, cupping your pussy. His large thumb gently rubbed against your clit, earning a gasp from you.
“That’s it,” Shunsui said, pulling his face away from you. He felt the growing slickness from you and kissed his way down your body, giving your nipples some quick bites and sucks. Soon he was hunched over the table, with your legs on his shoulders, as he was face-to-face with your wet pussy.
Shunsui let a long swipe against your wet folds. He groaned at your taste, suckling on your clit as one of his fingers entered you.
You were seeing stars, loudly moaning at how intense Shunsui was with your pussy. His thick finger was already so full for you, then he added two more, earning a deep groan from you. Your orgasm was approaching, as you threaded your fingers in Shunsui’s curls. His large nose rubbed along your slick pussy as he lapped away, savouring your taste.
You shrieked as your orgasm came, your pussy drenching his face with your wetness. Your face was flushed as you laid on the massage bed, watching Shunsui sit up and straighten himself out. A lazy, smug smile appeared on Shunsui face as he watched you in satisfaction, trying to ride out the remnants of your orgasm.
Shunsui pulled you up, kissing your forehead as your body began to calm down. Your pussy throbbed from what had just happened, but you wanted more of it, and more of him.
“If you’re free the rest of the evening, why don’t you come back to my place, Shunsui?” You asked, spreading your bare legs again as if to entice him.
Another lazy grin graced Shunsui’s face, “I thought you’d never ask.”
As he helped you finish the remaining tasks to close your salon, the headache he had and the boring paperwork, were a distant memory to him. A memory soon to be replaced by the sounds of your moans, the feel of your pussy and mouth around his cock, and your flushed body next to his.
TBC in face sitting.
Thanks for reading!!
#bleach#kyoraku shunsui#shunsui kyoraku#kyoraku shunsui x reader#shunsui x reader#bleach smut#bleach x reader#kinktober#a writes#bleach shunsui#bleach kyoraku#kyoraku smut#shunsui smut#bleach fanfiction#bleach writings#kyoraku x reader#shunsui x you#kyoraku x you#captain kyoraku#kinktober 2024
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our times
turns out, you're the fortune i want to keep most ☆ multi x reader
~ this is a multi x reader!! hatssun was talking about writing angst and i really said omg my turn! sorry hatssun ur idea was so good and it works so well w yukong and feixiao... ill credit u so hard bro i swear. WVERYONE BE PREPARED FOR WHEN THINK FAST DROPS🙏🙏🙏
UMM ALSO THE FEIXIAO ONE IS SOLONG FOR NO REASON LOTS OF DIALOGUE SORRYYYYY
characters: feixiao, yukong, ruan mei
song: 小幸運 - Hebe Tian ~
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i was too busy chasing shooting stars in the sky ☆ feixiao
The day Saran ran away, something in you ran with her. The day Saran ran away, you didn't know if you would ever see her face break into a smile again, or if you would see her hanging the next day. The trace of her slowly faded with time, but even when you finally had the guts to bolt for it she was still the only thing on your mind. That day, you didn't mind if you died running, because it would've been better than staying there but alive. You didn't mind if you died running, because you died with her on your mind.
God knows how many decades had passed since the Luofu took you in. You only count days in how much your heart ached for her. Eventually it dulls down, it goes from a sharp thud to a muted nudge every time you see a dash of silver hair in the crowd or a sharp but soft smile on Jing Yuan's lips. You've heard of how far she had gotten, and you wished it didn't hurt so much to hear about it. You forced yourself to forget about her, because you couldn't keep living every day haunted by her. You were finally able to live your days how you wanted to, even if it meant without her by your side.
"Yukong, can you run these by the general for me?"
You were absentmindedly sitting at your desk, filling in whatever forms the general had sent to you about all the legality things they had to sort out for the Wardance. You spin your pen, signing your name down and ticking the last of the boxes. You huffed at the lack of response from the woman who should be sitting across from you.
"Yukong?"
"She's not here."
You look up at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, and the world decides to take a break for a moment. In that small fraction of a second you feel yourself going back in time for decades until you are standing face to face with the young foxian, bruised and battered with an undying flame in her eyes. She is now much taller, her face pale but not the sickly kind that she harboured before. Her eyebags faded, hair flowing as if it had been just washed- a sight you never saw before in those camps.
She looked healthy, she had everything she wanted.
So why did she look like she was about to break down in front of you?
It wasn't fair.
"Saran?"
She only nods, standing with her arms by her side like a fool who doesn't know how to speak. She clears her throat, moving to cross her arms so she looked less awkward standing in front of you.
She wears clean clothes, she smells of petals.
Her scent of blood long faded, but you feel the pain behind her stance.
"How have you been?" Is all she asks as she eyes your desk warily, as if not knowing how to approach the conversation.
"Well. You?"
"Good enough."
Your old banter had long faded now, your previous ability to make each other laugh despite knowing the imminent death that looms over you two every day.
"Neergul died."
"I know."
"I'm sorry."
It's like talking to a wall, or to just a mirrored version of yourself with how either of you refuse to look at each other.
"I never knew if you died or not until I came here."
Your shaky voice finally cuts the tension that has been simmering for far too long. She swallows, looking up and you know she is holding back tears because she has only ever looked up when the night sky is open and she can see the stars that granted her hope.
"I found out you became general. I was happy for you."
She says nothing.
"Why didn't you reach out?"
The edge to your voice has her breath knocked out of her lungs for a second as she tries to formulate an answer. She tries to weave incoherent thoughts and jumbles of emotions into a sentence and it's much harder to be done than she realised.
"I couldn't."
Of course she couldn't. Why would she admit to you how much of a coward she was? Knowing she had abandoned you after kissing you goodnight that evening.
"Why?"
But you want answers. It's not every day your presumed dead lover comes back to see you after years and years of crying yourself to sleep and hoping that in another future you could be in her arms without having to fear for your life.
"I was scared."
The general cannot be scared, or show any signs of fear in any situation- especially emotional situations where they need to stay calm so that people can feel secure around her but right now it all falls apart.
"Of who?"
"You."
"Why?"
You really did not like to raise your voice but you couldn't help it- she infuriates you. From the moment she flooded your heart you realised why love and hate go hand in hand because you hate that you love her.
"Why now?"
"I don't know."
Is all she manages to stutter out after an incredulous minute of silence and you just sigh.
"Why didn't you come find me?"
Her question has you going speechless now.
You were a hypocrite.
"I don't know."
She just nods with an unreadable expression on her face.
"I don't regret what I did that night."
You squeeze your now-fisted hand tight, taking a deep breath in to try to not only steady your voice but calm your racing heart that threatens to beat so hard it shatters in your chest.
"But why? Why make me love you for decades if you never planned to return?"
"I wanted to return. I always did."
Her words come out much more rushed than she intended it to come out. You feel your world shatter in that moment as you speak your next words.
"You never moved on?"
She steps closer.
"I dreamt about you every night. Under the sea of the shooting stars."
You shake your head, quickly wiping away at your own tears and she has to take a sharp breath in so her tears don't fall.
"Don't say that." You whisper "We can't. Please."
She looks at you, more intensely than ever as her voice quivers.
"Why?"
You shake your head.
"It'll only hold us back."
You still adorn matching scars from the torture you both had gone through in those camps. She is the scar on your heart, and you are the scar on hers.
"We can't." Is all you say.
She turns around and you want to pull her into your arms, you want her to be able to look at you but from that moment on, the look on her face as you ended what it was and what it could’ve been would be the face you see every night you close your eyes.
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somewhere in the sky i could not see, was you ☆ yukong
The evening Caiyi died in her arms, Yukong vowed to never see the skies again. That was the same evening you went missing, the same evening she breaks down because how can she lose two of what she loved most in her life within the blink of an eye? The reason for her to wake up every morning, the reason she smiled even through the roughest of the days- now faded into nothing but memory and a distant bitter taste in her mouth.
You were not presumed dead, only missing. The false sense of hope had Yukong staying at her desk for hours every day, going through files and files, records upon records to try and maybe find some trace of you somewhere but after years of searching she finally gave up. She had to care for Qingni for Caiyi, she had to keep loving you because if she doesn't then she feels like she's lost herself.
It was the day Qingni flew to the skies when she finally looked up once more. She looks to the planes to see her daughter flying the same path that doomed her from wanting to live but the sky was the reason she had the two people who made life worth living. It was that day a plane crashed and Yukong felt the familiar, sickening feeling from decades ago as she runs to the sight. She's panicked, flustered, heart racing and feeling like throwing up as she pushes past crowds amongst crowds-
She doesn't know if she should scream or sigh in relief when they pull the lifeless-looking figure out of the starskiff. The model was old, the same she used in the war where she lost....
You. The figure they pulled out was you and she feels like she's going to be sick. She runs up to them, asking if you're okay and the medics are telling her to back off but she needs to know. She puts her head down, ear against your chest and almost sobs when she hears your heart thud weakly. It's so soft she really could've missed it but she hears it.
"Oh baby..."
She whispers as she cradles your head on her lap.
She sits by your side in the hospital until you wake up. She doesn't move, doesn't eat or drink or anything unless Qingni drags her to the bathroom or to the cafeteria. She holds your hand weakly, squeezing it every once in a while to see if you'd respond.
A cough jolts her awake and she quickly scans the dark, dimly lit room to find you- blinking weakly as you scan the room wearily.
"Oh, oh my god."
She quickly gets off her chair, rushing by your side.
"Are you okay? How are you feeling? Nurse-"
"Yukong."
She never thought she'd hear her name fall from your lips, to hear her name mumbled out so softly and hoarsely again.
"I'm here, I'm right here."
You don't say anything as you close your eyes, taking in a deep but pained breath as you close your eyes. She can feel her hands go cold, trembling violently as she tries to calm herself down. Her fingertips feel like they've been dipped in ice water and her throat feels like its closing up violently.
"You're here."
Yukong couldn't help the sob that escapes her lips at your words.
"Yes, yes baby. I'm right here."
The tears are already falling before she can even bother trying to control them, and she can already feel herself slipping away when you smile softly at her because she had always been a fool for you. She put the whole world down for you and she would lift it up for you if you needed it to be lifted again.
"I- I came back."
"You did, you did baby, you're back." She whispers, finally moving to take your hand in hers. You feel so much smaller, your hand much rougher than it used to be and when she finally takes in how scarred you are she feels like breaking down.
"Wanted to see you..." you whisper weakly, voice shaking as you look directly into her eyes.
Your eyes were nothing like the eyes she used to look at every night before she drifted off to sleep. Now they were hollow, every trace of who you once were has faded into the past that only resides through her dreams.
You were back, but you'd never really be back.
She just squeezes your hand gently as she tells herself it's okay, telling herself that you're physically here and you were somehow still alive and that's all she's been praying for since the day you fell.
So why does it hurt so much?
If all she's ever wanted was to have you back in her arms, why does it hurt so much to have you back now? Looking at her with a smile that no longer meets your eyes and a sense of coldness washing over her like a suffocating blanket every time she sees you.
She still loves you.
She still loves you and it hurts that her lover has died, reincarnated into a broken version of who she once loved. But she doesn't care. She will learn to live with the cold if it means being able to hold you once more. She would spend as long as she needs, puzzling every piece of you back together until you are able to smile at her without the history of all that happened haunting your every waking move.
She vowed, from that moment on, she'd start looking at the sky again because the sky brought you back. Every evening she stares up at the moon, watching it dim the lights to another day, and whisper her gratefulness to have her lover back. Every evening, she brings you out to look at the moon, the same moon you looked at during the two decades apart where the only thing you had together was the moon draped in the sky that she was too scared to look at.
"I love you."
You just lean your head against her chest.
You just listen to her heartbeat, and with each thud the cracks in your body begin to renew themselves- you would never be who you were, but you would always love her.
"I love you too."
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every scene was you ☆ ruan mei
The day she left, she vanished. No note, no text, nothing. Ruan Mei had become nothing but a shadow on earth when she decided to leave your house and you questioned if it was even worth searching for her at that point.
She had always been obsessed with aeonhood, aeons, power- whatever. You knew she was. Yet you still loved her for it, and she always promised you that one day you two would be able to love each other for eternity, for as long as you wanted to and until time itself faded into nothing but what was a mere idea of the past. She held you close that evening when she promised you, your head resting on her chest as she wrapped her arms around you.
A week later, she vanishes.
Lab empty, notes packed away, it was like as if your house had gone back in time to before you met her with how empty it all was. You called her number, texted her phone, contacted everyone she knew which was not a lot but you still tried because you loved her.
The day she revealed herself as the 81st member of the genius society, you felt your entire being shatter into pieces of who it once was. That was why she left you. Ultimately, Ruan Mei was selfish, and she had always been a selfish person.
You were foolish for loving her.
But you couldn't stop.
By the time you finally encountered her again, your history had become just a speck of dust in her mind but it was still your reason for hurt. It was still the reason why getting out of bed was a bit harder and why looking in the mirror hurt just a bit more than it should.
"Oh, it's you."
Her monotonous voice has you wanting to squeeze her throat, strangle her until she can't speak but you don't move. You stare at her, her lack of reaction, her poker face and you just swallow.
"How are you?"
That was the only sentence you could manage out and if you looked closely enough, you could see her eye twitch slightly as her throat tightens- her composure begins breaking at the sound of your voice.
"Well." She nods. She sounds too composed to you despite all the pain she is desperately trying to hide. She hates you for making her feel this way. She hates how weak she feels when you make that face at her, when your eyes widen and your mouth tightens into a line, body tense and breathing shallow. "You?"
She notices how your body tenses even more at that question, how your eyebrows begin to furrow as your face grows pink from anger.
"Not very good."
"Oh."
Her response had you fuming even more. How she was so careless and thoughtless towards you and how you felt drove you off the walls. She doesn't give a shit about you, why would she even ask?
Because you don't see the guilt that eats away at her heart every night as she stares at the photo of you that she has on her bedside table.
"Congratulations. You did it. Genius society."
It came out bitter and harsh, and Ruan Mei doesn't flinch but she feels this twist in her gut that's too unfamiliar and too painful for her to fully register. She doesn't understand this feeling. She wants to, because she wants to know how to stop it.
"Thank you."
You scoff at her response, physically unable to stop yourself from rolling your eyes as you stepped closer to her, jabbing a finger into her chest.
"You're a fucking bitch."
She hates how her heart leapt at the feeling of your touch, she hates how your words actually manage to hurt her when it really shouldn't be affecting her at all. She's been called so much worse, so why does this, coming from you, hurt so much?
"Is this because I left?"
How can she be so dense?
"You left without saying a word! You just disappeared off the face of the earth, I don't hear from you saying where you are. I don't know what happened, I thought I did something wrong, but no- I remember who you are. A narcissistic bitch who only cares about herself."
The last part hurt more than it should've.
"I don't only care about myself."
You can't help but falter at how soft her voice suddenly goes as she looks down, not making eye contact as she shifts her bodyweight from foot to foot.
"I really cared for you."
Those words shouldn't affect you. You should've moved on from what happened almost twenty years ago now but you can't. You just stare at her and you hate how you feel tears start to form in your eyes as you blink violently, trying to hold it back.
"Don't say that to me."
She goes silent.
"I hate you."
She looks down and you don't see the tears that well up in her eyes.
"I really hope you succeed. I hope you get everything you've ever wanted."
She doesn't even get to see your face for the last time, because by the time she finally gets the courage to look up you were already gone. Your last words to her haunt her every time she begins her studies, or every time she tries to focus on figuring out creating a new life species. She knows you didn't mean it, yet she can't help but want you to notice her just one last time.
Maybe this time, she could fulfil her long broken promise to you.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
@44rtem idk ifthis is the ruan mei content u wanted... but here u go <3
#hsr#honkai star rail#feixiao#hsr feixiao#yukong#hsr yukong#ruan mei#hsr ruan mei#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#feixiao x reader#yukong x reader#ruan mei x reader#angsty angst time#honkai#honkai sr
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PROUD OF YOU — alessia russo x gymnast!reader
little psa i’m not an expert in the format of gymnastics by any means, this is just from my knowledge. so if anything isn’t correct i apologise🙃
this was supposed to be a blurb from the same universe as number one fan but i got carried away and it turned out being 3k words… ENJOY!
read number one fan here
masterlist
you felt like your entire life had led up to this moment in your life, your first olympics. twenty four years old and you were fulfilling something only your eight year old self could imagine.
you remember watching the beijing olympics more specifically the gymnastics and you knew that was what you wanted to do, even if it wasn't to win while that would be an added bonus, just being there was special and something not everyone could say they had done.
you had spent weeks, actually months in the gym. endless amount of hours spent perfecting your routines and making sure they were perfect and showcased all of your best tricks.
however it was slightly bittersweet as even though you were training for your first ever olympic which was being held in paris, it had meant you had been away from your girlfriend, alessia russo for quite some time now.
only being able to see each other on the odd weekend when you were not training and she didn't have a match, an even still those days came far and few.
but still your relationship was as strong as ever and it meant the time you did spent together was cherished and never taken for granted.
you and alessia had been officially dating for a year now and how the two of you had met was in the weirdest way possible.
you first met when you were in london and you so happened to be in the same coffee shop, alessia with her clumsiness fell over the leg of your chair sending herself and her coffee flying across the room.
you immediately apologising thinking it was your fault when really it was just alessia and her two left feet. you couldn't help but be mesmerised by how gorgeous she was but the blonde had dashed out the coffee shop in shear embarrassment before you had the chance to get another sentence out never mind ask the blonde for her name.
the second time you met was funnily enough in a gym in kent just a couple weeks afterwards, that being your hometown but also alessia's. you knew it was the same blonde girl, how could anyone forget such a beautiful face.
you were the one that spoke to the blonde first, alessia of course having no idea who you were and not remembering you. her face only flushing when you mentioned her going flying in a coffee shop, alessia found it relaxing that you didn't have a clue who she was.
not recognising her for her football but instead just because she was a person. you never forget how shy she was as she kept stumbling over her words when she spoke to you.
as you both stood talking in the gym locker rooms, alessia stuttering out asking for you number when you were just about to leave. from that day you went on a couple dates, actually discovering who she was and what she did day to day and from then the two of of you had been in your own little love bubble.
those who were important knew about your relationship, the media had it's suspicions but you nor alessia ever confirmed the rumours that circulated.
"what's with the gloomy face" alice kinsella nudged you as you took of your head phones. alice being one of your closest friends in the team, she'd helped you a lot in the running to the olympics, herself already being an olympian helped as she had been able to settle your nerves.
a sad smile was on your face as you looked down at the text message alessia had just sent you, wishing you good luck and that she be watching. you not having a clue she meant literally.
you had it in your head that alessia wasn't going to be at the qualifiers, her schedule didn't line up and she had just finished her qualification matches for the euros next year and she had just flown out to spend a few days in ibiza with her friends.
she told you that if you wanted her to be there for the qualifying round she would be and she'd get an earlier flight from ibiza just for you but you had promised her it was fine and that she should enjoy her time with her friends as your girlfriend had promised you that she would be at the next round as she herself was more than confident you would qualify.
"just missing lessi" you mumbled, texting a quick reply before putting your phone down as alice nodded her head she understood, it was hard being away from those you love.
"i'm sure she's watching, just make her proud yeah" alice smiled as she nudged her shoulder into you again, a little harder this time as she held a smug smile. it drawing a smile from you as you shook your head at your friends childishness.
alice moving away to focus on getting herself in the right mindset as the competition was just about to begin, you slipping your head phones back in your head as you carried on the stretch.
the competition was everything you could have dreamt of, your first piece of apparatus was vault where you were up first your score being 13.833 which you were happy with, the next rotation came around and it was bars a piece of apparatus you were a little bit more comfortable on but a small mistake cost you a few marks but your score ended on a 12.833.
the third rotation was beam a peice of apparatus which was always daunting and slightly scary. it never got easier competing on beam but the routine went smoothly and your score came in at 13.500.
the final rotation was here and team gb were looking good for qualifying for team final, the last apparatus was floor and with a small step out the floor markings cost you but your final score came in at 12.466.
you had done your bit for the team and for your country. taking in every second of the competition the pure euphoria of being there knowing it would hit later on when you were trying to sleep. right now you were focused, praying the team would qualify for the team final.
just alice was left to do her routine on the floor and then you would know if you had qualified, it all felt in slow motion. she did her last move, stood tall and presented to the judges. coming off the floor and down the steps as you waited for her score.
you nervously looked towards the score board waiting for alice’s score to come through, standing next to your teammates as the judges took their time deliberating their decision.
12.733.
team gb were on to the team final, qualifying in seventh with a total score of 160.830.
you stood in shock of a second before turing to ruby and abigail. engulfing them in a three way hug as you were all in a similar position this was your first time at an olympics. “we did it!” you called out into the hug as a smile bigger than ever was on your face.
you moved over to congratulate alice, not only on the team final but also the all around final she had made. “well done alice!” you grinned wrapping your arms around her, hugging her tight.
“you too kid, your first ever all around final!” she smiled proudly as you froze. you hadn’t made an all around final. what did she mean.
“what-?” you stutter out as she pointed to the score board which was currently going through the gymnasts which had made the final.
“there look you goon!” alice pointed to where your name was, number 24. you had just qualified for the all around.
“oh my god” you couldn’t believe it, you turned to the crowd trying to spot your mum and dad who had been there watching. you waving up proudly as you held up a heart to them. turning back to alice who was still facing the crowd.
“y/n, look your mum wants you”
you hummed before turning around to look where your mum was in the crowd, her pointing towards someone next to her. your eye line following her pointing, looking up and finding their face.
“oh my god” you whispered yelled, your mouth wide open. your were lost for words but also had so many questions at the same time. how was she here? why was she not sat in the hot spanish sun?
“told you she’d be watching!” alice nudged you a smug smile, you knew maybe somehow she had something to do with her being sat in the audience watching but you didn’t care how little or how big involvement she had, you just wanted to be in your girlfriend’s arms.
“i- what- how”
“oh go and get your girl, you sap!”
the arena had already started to empty, so you found the nearest staircase you could making your way through the crowds of people still in your navy blue sparkly leotard and your slides. you smile getting bigger as you edged closer to being back in your blondes arms.
saying a hello and giving a hug to your parents as they congratulate you and told you how proud of you they were as you could see alessia stood waiting for you to get to her.
finally your mum let go of hugging you pushing you lightly towards your girlfriend, you sinking into her arms as you held onto the blonde tightly as if, if you let go she would be gone forever.
“i’ve missed you so much baby” alessia whispered into your hair as she placed a kiss on the top of your head. you couldn’t find the words to say to her, you had to much to say but nothing would come out of your mouth.
“i- how are you here? i swear you were in ibiza this morning when you called?” you looked up to her as her hands rested on your shoulders, as your were still wrapped around her torso.
“i’ve been here since last night, my flight was supposed to be this morning but i got an earlier one just so i could make it here” alessia explained but you were still confused as even though you only saw her in what looked to be the background of a hotel, you still remember seeing ella on the facetime call — so how was that possible?
“but you were with ella this morning?” you questioned, a slight crease in your forehead as a confused look took over your face.
“she’s in paris too, so is mary cause she’s just moved to psg” alessia continued explaining, you humming along but not having a clue about football but you knew that psg was a football team but that was about it.
“well i’m glad your here!”
“you didn’t really think i would miss the chance to watch my girlfriend compete in her first olympics!” alessia questioned as you rolled your eyes playfully. “and seeing you in this is a bonus too” the blonde held a cheeky smile as she looked down towards the stoned navy blue leotard you were wearing.
you slapping her chest lightly as she acted false hurt, you were stood face to face with your girlfriend and the one thing you wanted to do was plant your lips on hers, but you couldn’t not when there was stray eyes around.
not knowing who had a camera, and while you didn’t care about what media had to say. you didn’t want to be headlining at your first olympics for that reason if you could help it.
your parents had already left, you were meeting them for dinner later on in the day. “c’mon” you pulled your way out of alessia’s hold before dragging her down the stairs her hand held tightly in yours.
small complaints by the blonde that she was gonna fall, which didn’t surprise you, as you led her back down the tunnel in the arena and towards the small changing room where the rest of your team was.
you stopped once you were in the tunnel, allowing alessia’s arm to have a break as she’d been complaining you were gonna pull it out its socket, you were no where near she was just being dramatic.
you turned to look at the blonde as she placed her arms round your shoulder, there being a slight height difference between the two of you. she obviously being the taller one, only by a few inches though.
“forgot to tell you how proud i am of you” alessia smiles as you could feel your cheeks going darker. something about anyone telling you how proud they were of you always had an affect on your heart but her telling you was enough to make your knees weak.
the two of you had stopped again, this time you were only a mere few meters from the changing room, “my little olympian” her breath fanned warm over your lips as her face was inches away from you as she had backed you up against the wall.
you had been craving this moment, you had been away from her for so long but a need was now blooming deep inside your bones. a need to be pressed flush against her.
“kiss me then” you said a little bossy as you could feel her teasing you with how not only your bodies where but also how close your lips were.
alessia smirked slightly, bending her head and using her hand that has crept up to rest on your neck to pull you in and close her mouth over yours. the kiss was soft and slow, a gentle drag of her lips over yours. the sweet and languid stroke of her tongue when you opened your mouth and angled in closer.
the tips of her fingers grazed your jaw and then she was cupping your cheeks as your back was now pushed so you were leant completely against the cold wall in the corridor. tugging lightly at your bottom lip before returning to kiss you.
heat tricked thick like honey down your spine, your hands fisting the material of her expensive white top as you tugged her impossibly closer before you wound your arms around her waist.
you didn’t want to stop kissing her. you wanted to stay in the moment forever, you wanted to keep swallowing the sound she was making low in her throat until you were dizzy off it.
“i’ve found her!” you both pulled back as you glared at your teammates as she stood in the door way clearly on her way to find you but not needing to go as far as she thought, a teasing smile resting on her face.
alice had dragged you back into the changing room telling you to hurry as most of the girls were ready and that they were just waiting on you.
pecking alessia’s lips quickly you reluctantly left her hold, dawdling into the changing room to get changed alessia following close behind you.
alessia had been talking with the girls as a catch up while you got changed coming back out in shorts and a little top while represented how hot it currently was in paris.
your girlfriend sat in your cubby, you found a seat on her lap. alessia hands immediately finding there place on your lower back and thighs rubbing small circles in your thighs as she smiled at you, your teammates finishing up getting ready for the coach trip back to the olympic village.
"are you here for the entire comp?" you asked alessia as she grinned nodding her head, you pressing another kiss to the blondes lips as you heard the gags come from your teammates.
turning your head you see the teasing sickening look on the girls' face doing it just to wind you up. you rolling your eyes at them. "abi, ruby cover your ears for a second!" alice said as you sighed knowing she was going to say something she definitely shouldn't.
"thank god for them anti-sex beds in the village!" alice snickered as you flipped her off turning your attention back to your blonde lover whose hands had not left your lower back as she traced small patterns.
alessia sat with a smug smile on her face too, "she's so annoying" you grumbled resting your head on alessia's shoulder.
"good job we don't need a bed.." alessia trailed off as she whispered in your ear, your face going bright red as she kissed your cheek, her lips lingering near your skin for a split second before she whispered "i love you, and i'm so proud of you!"
#alessia russo x y/n#alessia russo x reader#alessia russo#woso community#woso x reader#woso#woso imagine#woso blurbs#awfc#arsenal women#arsenal wfc#england wnt#england women#enwoso
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Clumsy Woman
Pairing: Rúben Dias x Reader
Summary: Your boyfriend doesn't like how clumsy you are, afraid you might seriously injure yourself.
Word count: 1976
Can't pretend to understand I'll be here to hold your hand I will wait for you, I will wait for you
You had been clumsy from a young age. Falling from trees, falling off bicycles, or simply tripping over your own feet seemed to be your speciality. It was during one of these graceful performances that you met your boyfriend, Ruben. You were barreling toward a magnificent face-plant when his strong arms caught you, saving you from certain embarrassment.
"I want to paint that wall!" You announced over breakfast one morning, your eyes sparkling with determination. "A deep blue, maybe."
Ruben raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and the wall. "That bookshelf has to go first." He pointed out. "It's heavy. We can do it together this weekend." He kissed your forehead and grabbed his keys. "I have to go!"
"Bye." Your attention was still on the wall and Ruben knew what you were thinking.
"Don't do it!" He called out as he reached for his bag. "Wait for me."
"But it's my day off!" You protested, already picturing the transformed wall. "I can at least start." Ruben gave you a look. "Fine." He gave you one final kiss on the lips and then left for training.
You didn't like to stay still at home. There was always a compulsion to be busy, so when boredom crept in, your eyes fell on the wall, then the bookshelf. Maybe it wasn't that difficult. With a burst of energy, you dashed out the door to buy the paint and everything you needed to paint the wall.
At home, you slip into old clothes and turn up the music. The bookshelf was packed with your books and Ruben's trophies. He'd be furious if he saw you right now, but you would prove you could handle it alone.
The bookshelf, a dark wood monster that dominated the room, had been a custom order. You started by emptying it, a task that required more muscle than expected. Then came the acrobatics. With much effort, you managed to slide a rug under one end. But as you attempted to repeat the same on the other side, disaster hit. Your hands slipped and the bookshelf came crashing down on your bare foot. A scream ripped through you as pain exploded.
"Don't do it!" Ruben's words echoed in your head. He was so going to kill you.
With a grunt of effort, you lifted the bookshelf off your foot. Pain shot through you as you collapsed to the floor, cradling your injured limb. It looked horrific, swollen and red. Trying to stand was a mistake, as a fresh wave of agony crippled you. You couldn't walk.
"Oh God, oh God!" Panic set in. Your phone was fumbled out of your pocket. You needed help, and you needed it now. Ruben wouldn't be home for hours. Calling an ambulance was the only option.
Ruben stepped into the locker room, and he heard the insistent vibration of his phone. "That thing hasn't stopped ringing." Bernardo commented, a grin spreading across his face.
Ruben's brow furrowed as he glanced at the caller ID. It was Lily, your best friend. "Hey, Lily, everything okay?"
"Hi Ruben, sorry to bother you, but I was supposed to meet Y/N at your place, and she’s not there and a neighbour mentioned seeing an ambulance at your building." His blood ran cold. "Do you know what happened?"
"I can't believe her!" His voice rose in frustration. "She wanted to paint the wall, the one with the bookshelf. I told her not to touch it!" A wave of dread washed over him.
"She probably didn't listen. Oh God." Lily knew you better than anyone. Your stubborn independence was legendary. "I've tried calling her, but no answer."
"Let me take a shower really quick and then I'll call you back."
Bernardo and Walker exchanged concerned glances. "What's going on, man? Your girl in trouble again?" Walker asked, his tone laced with disbelief.
"Looks like it!" Ruben replied, his voice rough. "She can't stay out of trouble for five minutes. Fuck." He desperately searched for the contact of his friend Eric who worked at the hospital. He answered on the fourth ring.
"Hey, mate, what's up?"
"Eric, man, sorry to bother you, I know you're working, but I need a huge favour." Ruben rushed out, his voice was laced with urgency.
"Shoot!" Eric replied, his tone professional.
"Can you check if Y/N was admitted to the hospital? I think she might have had an accident. Again." He quickly explained the situation, his voice rising with each word. Eric promised to check and call back in a few minutes.
"I'm gonna be quick in the shower." Ruben said, turning to his friends. "If Eric calls, can you answer? Please." Walker and Bernardo nodded.
He'd never showered so fast in his life. Emerging a few minutes later, Bernardo was already on the phone.
"I'll tell him, thanks, Eric," Bernardo said, hanging up.
Ruben's heart pounded in his chest. "So?"
"She's there. Broken foot, but she's okay." Bernardo reported.
"For fuck's sake."
You rolled your eyes as Ruben burst into the hospital room. His face was a mask of irritation. Lily, who'd arrived earlier, squeezed your hand in silent support before stepping back.
"Seriously, Y/n?" Ruben’s voice was dripping with disbelief. "I told you to stay put."
"I'm fine, thanks for the concern." You replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm. You loved him and knew he was worried, but sometimes it felt suffocating.
"A broken foot means you’re not." He disagreed. "Can’t you just stay still for one day?"
You didn’t want to argue, especially as he seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. "I’m a grown woman, Ruben. I don’t need you to tell me to sit still."
"Well, you don’t act like one. Sometimes I feel like I’m dating a child." His response was harsh and unexpected.
Shock washed over you. Had he really just said that?
"Maybe you should break up with this child then. I wouldn’t want to keep the great Ruben Dias from the real women in the city." You retorted, your voice trembling with anger.
He ran his hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. He knew his words had been cruel, but his worry often manifested in this way. But breaking up with you was the last thing he wanted.
"You know that’s not what I meant-- what are you doing?" He began, but you cut him off as you tried to stand, to reach for the crutches. He pushed you back down, but you quickly pushed his hand away.
"Lily, can you take me home, please?" You asked, ignoring Ruben completely.
Lily, who had been a silent observer, helped you up.
"I can take you home!" Ruben offered.
"I don’t want you to take me home." You replied coldly. "You don’t have a car seat for a child, remember?"
Using crutches was something familiar. This wasn’t your first rodeo. You had broken other body parts before.
In the car, Lily broke the tense silence. "You know he’s just worried about you."
"I know, but that doesn’t give him the right to treat me like a child. "He has known since the beginning how clumsy I am. If he can’t handle it, maybe we shouldn't be together."
"Don’t say that!" Lily replied, her voice firm. "You two can't live without the other." Through the rearview mirror, you saw Ruben’s car following you. "I know it’s hard, but try to understand his point of view."
You looked away, trying to focus on anything but the conversation. You knew Lily was right. Ruben loved you, and his overprotectiveness came from that love. But it was hard to accept when it felt like he was suffocating you.
As the car pulled up to your apartment building, you felt a pang of sadness hit you. Lily opened your door, and carefully you stepped out. "Thanks for everything, Lily. I really appreciate it."
She smiled. "Anytime, Babe! Call me if you need anything, okay?"
You nodded and the the help of the clutches you walked towards the building entrance. As you turned around, you saw Ruben's car waiting for the garage door of the building to open up. You hesitated, looking at his car for a long moment before turning and going inside.
When you entered the house, you realised that your books were scattered like confetti, Ruben's trophies were still on the dining table, and the monstrous bookshelf stood there, a mocking presence in the room. It was impossible to clean it up. Not with your foot like that.
A few minutes later, Ruben entered the house and he looked around it. You were nowhere to be seen, but by the sound of the water running, he knew you were taking a shower. Without his help.
What if you fell? He shocked the thought out of his head. You needed space and he was going to give it to you. Kind of.
Jumping from the shower with only one foot and the other in the air, you dried yourself and put on your pyjamas. You felt like everything was hurting, but you had to prove a point to Ruben. You could do things alone without needing his help.
As you opened the bedroom door, the smell of the food hit you and your belly made a noise, not realising how starving you were. However what surprised you the most was not Ruben cooking but the fact the bookshelf was no longer on the wall that you wanted to paint, but the wall in front of it, with all his trophies and your books. Everything was really clean and the small lamp you had on the corner where you sat reading was welcoming.
The table was set, and Ruben was busy tossing salad at the kitchen island. When he saw you emerge from the bedroom, he paused, his expression softening.
"How are you feeling?" His voice was gentle, laced with concern.
You met his gaze with a cold stare. "Fine."
You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, walking around the kitchen with surprising ease on your crutches. Ruben watched your movements with a mixture of relief and worry.
He sighed, setting down the salad bowl. "Can we talk?"
You scoffed. "Are you sure you want to do that? You think talking to a child is easy?" Your voice was sharp, but a pang of hurt shot through you as the words left your lips.
Ruben rinsed his hands and pulled out two chairs. Gently, he guided you to one and sat down across from you. His hands rested lightly on your bare legs. "I'm so sorry for calling you a child. I didn't mean it like that, and you know it."
You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "It still hurt." You mumbled.
"I know, I know. I've been overprotective." He admitted. "But every time you get hurt, it feels like my heart stops. I worry about you constantly. But calling you a child was wrong, and I'm truly sorry."
Your anger was slowly dissipating. You couldn't stay mad at him for long. He always knew how to break through your walls. "You're an idiot if you think this is the last time I'll hurt myself." You retorted, trying to sound tough.
He chuckled softly. "Let me be an idiot, then. I love you, you know that, right?"
Ruben's eyes held yours. Slowly, he leaned forward, his hand reaching out to gently cup your face. Your heart pounded in your chest as his gaze lowered to your lips.
With a hesitant touch, his lips met yours. It was a soft and passionate kiss. As the kiss deepened, you felt a surge of relief and happiness wash over you. In that moment, nothing else mattered.
A small smile crept onto your face. "I know. I love you too."
#footballer x reader#footballer imagine#football imagine#footballer x y/n#ruben dias#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias x you#ruben dias x y/n#ruben dias imagine#rúben dias
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Chase
Anon Request, “Funny ask here! An expert free runner (jumping from building to building) catches the turtles on camera. The boys planned to do the same intimidation act like with April but are shocked when they jet off managing to keep a good distance. Then once they think they have them cornered on a construction site the boys fall through the building roof landing in waist high wet concrete. Looking down at them the runner blows them a kiss before taking off. (P.S. their cool though and just keep the photo as a momento)How do the 4 react to seeing them again when they literally bump into each other on the rooftops?”
◌ Part Two ◌
~xXx~
You hadn’t intentionally meant to take a picture of the turtles. If anything it was their fault they ended up in your shot. After finishing a course you’d been aiming at for over a week, you thought it’d be a great moment to capture, but hadn’t expected to catch anyone else in the background of your roof top photo. Much less those anyone’s being four mutant ninja turtles. It was the squak of surprise at the sudden flash of your mini Polaroid that alerted you to them.
Seeing the turtles left you somewhere between an intriguing shock and confused fear, even if seeing one of them rapidly rub at their flashed eyes while over exaggerate about how they burned did indeed give you a little giggle. There wasn’t much time to process the whiplash of emotions however, as one of them, clad in red and quite burly out of the bunch, came marching your way. Not a word had a chance of making its way from their lips, as your body did what it was trained so hard to do, making a mad dash across the old market roof top. Just like that, the four brothers found themselves in a sudden grand chase. “Great job, Raph!”, Leo snapped at said aggravated terrapin, making easy work of hopping over a fenced roof. “I ain’t even do anythin’! It’s your fault!”, Raph retaliated, vaulting over some exterior vents. “Oh, and how is that exactly?!” “You’re the one who gave us the all clear!” Bouncing from wall to wall as the group followed you down into an old parking garage Donnie interjected between the two argumentative brothers. “Guy’s is now really the time?! We kind of have something urgent on our hands.” “Yeah! Like how I can’t see their sick moves because my eyes are still having a disco party!”, Mikey continued to blink rapidly, nearly missing the open edge if not for Donnie giving him aid with his staff. Rolling his own eyes, Leo brushed off the youngest, keeping track of your movements as you scaled your way into a construction building across the way. “Come on, let’s get this over with. There’s no where to go past that building, we’ll catch them there.” All the years of free running across New York, you’d never felt as thrilled as you did now. Sure, it was still terrifying in a way being chased by four giant creatures who were quite nimble despite their enormous size, but you had to be honest in the way their pursuit brought on an adrenaline like no other. They put your skills to the test in a way you could never personally do yourself, and as you swung from a bar into another construction building, you felt elation rush through your body. At least, till you found yourself caught in between a rock and a hard place, staring at a concrete solid wall with no where to escape. Hearing the collective sounds of heavy foot falls, you quickly turned around to find the four beings surrounding the only path you’d have of escape. Seeing the glares upon their faces, your racing heart now beat rapidly for a different reason. Taking a moment to even his breathing, Leonardo stepped forward, watching your reactions carefully. “We’re not going to hurt you. Just. . .don’t scream.”, he spoke as calmly as he could, hands raised to show he had no misleading intentions. You said nothing, just continued to take control of your own breathing as your eyes shifted between him and his brothers. “I’m Leonardo, and these are-“ “I’m Michelangelo, but you can just call me Mikey!”, the orange banded turtle cut in, shoving past his brother and winking at you. “The guy in purple is Donatello, and the one in red who mean mugged you is Raphael! What’s your name angel? I say angel, because there’s no way you could have crossed those alleyways so eloquently without a pair of wings~.” “Mikey!”, all three other brothers shouted in unison. “What?!” With a light groan, Donnie reminded him of their current objective. “We’re here to get the photo. Not you a love interest.” “Oooooh right, the photo!” Your eyes shifted from Raphael, back to Mikey as he moved closer, three fingered hand reaching out. Sifting into your pocket it didn’t take long to pull out the small square picture. Despite it being exposed and grainy in some parts, the tangibility of the photo and the story it now held caused a surprising sorrow in your heart to have to depart with it. Yet, gazing back up to the four mutants before you, you understood why they’d want it. With the way you reacted, who could imagine how others might to their discovery. You met Mikey half way, extending your own hand to give him the small photo, fingers lightly brushing the other. All of a sudden, a loud crack was heard, and all five of you stood frozen. Before anyone could blink, the floor caved in, the four brothers descending down into dust and debris, and you with quick reflexes pressing tight back against the concrete wall. Once the clouded air had settled, you quickly peaked over into the newly established hole, a surge of worry for the ninja quartet. Relief washed through as you caught sight of the brothers who had landed in a mucky puddle, most likely sore from the fall but seemingly fine otherwise. As the boys groaned and started another round of arguing with one another, you suddenly remembered the photo and quickly checked your closed fist to find it still there. Carefully bringing the picture before you to look at once more, a thought had emerged. This was the most fun you had in long time, the most alive you’ve felt in a while. Recalling the kind smile Mikey had given you and Leo’s mindful approach as to not frighten you, you considered the growing idea in your mind even more. Making up your mind, you gently tucked the photo back into your pocket with a gleeful grin. You swore to yourself that night to never show anyone that picture, but as long as you held on to it, you knew you’d eventually wind up seeing the turtles again. With that, you skipped from the tiny ledge along the wall, and whistled to catch the turtles’ attention. “Bye boys! It was nice meeting you!” Loud shouts and scrambling could be heard as each one clambered over the other, slipping back and forth into the deep puddle in an effort to get up and to you, but by the time they’d get themselves straightened out, you’d be long gone with anticipating hope of the next chase.
~xXx~
#bayverse tmnt x reader#bayverse tmnt#bayverse raphael x reader#bayverse raph x reader#bayverse michelangelo x reader#bayverse mikey x reader#bayverse leonardo x reader#bayverse leo x reader#bayverse donatello x reader#bayverse donnie x reader#tmnt x reader#aged up tmnt#anon request#imababblekat's writing
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The Barnes-Rogers Family Adventures | Moving Day
Summary: The family move into a bigger house, meaning the littles get their own bedrooms!
Warnings: This post and series is safe for work (SFW) regressions. Nothing explicit. However, please be aware that the rest of my blog is NOT. NSFW accounts are welcome to read and reblog, but please keep all comments SFW out of consideration for other littles.
Word Count:
Series Masterlist
A/N: Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B
Tags: Let me know if you want to be tagged specifically for this series.
Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick
Steve Rogers and James ‘Bucky’ Barnes were exhausted yet excited as they pulled up outside their new home. A cozy house with a large backyard perfect for their little ones, and many rooms to get lost in while playing hide and seek.
The duo balanced each other perfectly as Bucky was the gruffed exterior, full of fun Daddy, and Steve was the strict yet sensitive, Papa.
Peter often regressed to the age of six years old, he was known as the mischievous one. Pulling pranks and finding new ways to make anyone and everyone laugh. You, at four, were the quieter of the pair. You often preferred to cling to Bucky’s leg and snuggle into him.
Your eyes widened as the car came to a stop. “Wow! Look at it, Papa! It’s huge!” Peter exclaimed as he tried to scramble out of the car, his voice filled with excitement. Steve exited the vehicle and opened Peter’s door, his sneakers crunched on the gravel driveway as he ran toward the front door.
You clung to Bucky as he lifted you out of the car, looking up at the house. “Daddy, is this our new home?” you asked, your voice muffled around your pacifier.
Bucky placed a gentle kiss against your cheek. “Yes, it is, Baby. What do you think?”
You nodded, reaching your fingers up to interlock with his hair.
Steve joined you, carrying a box labeled ‘Kitchen’. He smiled at Peter’s enthusiasm as he bounced on his toes waiting for you all to catch up to him.
“Can we go look at our new bedrooms?” Peter eagerly asked as his eyes sparkled with anticipation.
The caregivers exchanged a smile. “Sure thing, Buddy,” Steve said, unlocking the door. “Let’s go check them out.”
He dashed inside, with you, Bucky, and Steve following closely behind. Steve led the way through the warm, inviting house and up the stairs. “This one is yours, Peter,” he announced as he stopped in front of the first door, opening it with a flourish.
Both your and Peter’s eyes widened as you took in the sight of his new room. The walls had been painted red and blue, shelves decorated the walls filled with his Lego sets and Star Wars memorabilia. His bed was covered by a comforter featuring his favorite superheroes. “This is awesome!” he exclaimed, running into the room.
“Looks like we got it right, huh?” Bucky smiled at Steve.
Peter nodded vigorously and jumped onto his bed. “It’s perfect! Thank you, Daddy! Thank you, Papa!”
“You’re welcome, champ,” Steve began as he moved into the room, ruffling Peter’s hair. “We’re glad you like it.”
~
You moved to the door down the hall in Bucky’s arms, Steve led the way again toward another door. “And this, Princess, is your room,” Bucky said, as Steve opened your bedroom door and revealed a room painted in soft pastel colors– pink and lavender– the walls were adorned with posters of princesses and unicorns. A canopy hung over your bed with fluffy pillows and plushies spread across.
You gasped as your eyes widened. “So pretty!” you exclaimed, mumbled by your pacifier. Bucking grinned, and set you down so you could run to the bed. Gathering as many plushies as possible in your arms, you giggled.
Turning to Steve and Bucky, pacifier still in your mouth and plushies in your arms, you ran over to them. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
Kneeling, Steve kissed the top of your head. “You’re welcome, Baby.”
Peter popped his head out of his room, excitement still bubbling. “Can we play hide and seek now?”
“I promise we’ll play soon, Bud, let’s finish unpacking a few boxes first for Papa.” Bucky smiled at him. Peter groaned playfully and retreated to his room.
~
The rest of the day was spent unpacking and settling. The four of you filled the air with laughter and the occasional sound of running footsteps as you and Peter tried to explore every corner.
As bedtime fast approached, you nestled between Bucky and Steve on the couch. You rubbed your eyes as they grew heavier with each passing minute.
“Alright, little ones, it’s way past bedtime,” Steve said gently as he lifted you into his arms.
Yawning, Peter tried to hide behind a blanket, draped over the couch. “But I’m not tired, Papa!”
Ruffling Peter’s hair, Bucky yawned before speaking. “I think you’re more tired than you realize, buddy. Come on, bedtime.”
And with that, Steve carried you upstairs, followed by Bucky and Peter as you all began your first bedtime routine in your new home. Together.
---
Series Masterlist
#cg!stucky x little!reader x little!peter#cg!stucky#cg!steve rogers#cg!bucky barnes#daddy!stucky x little!reader#daddy!steve x little!reader#papa!steve#daddy!stucky#daddy!bucky x little!reader#little!peter x little!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky fanfic#james bucky barnes#bucky fic#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x peter parker#bucky barnes x y/n#steve rogers#agere little#sfw agere#agere!reader
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Phantom Filled Nights
{𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼}: Ciel Phantomhive x Older!Brother!Reader x Sebastian Michaelis
{𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷}: Life has finally caught up with (Y/n) but he refuses to break down. Ciel and Sebastian help him realize that even Guard Dogs need a break.
{𝓣𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓼}: Huge amount of angst, fluffy ending, familial reconciliation, Reader has extreme burn scars, Reader is implied to be heavily disfigured, Reader uses cane and has prosthetic, Reader implied to have PTSD to some degree, Reader goes through traumatic flashback (described to the best of my ability)
{𝓡𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽}: ❝I'm always shy when I make a ask, but i'll try. It's about black butler. I was thinking about a reader who is Ciel's big brother, like 3 years more older than ciel (u can choose) Like, male reader is overloaded with something (work or psychological things), you could put sebastian and the rest of them. I'm sorry for my bad English, im trying to not use the translator… i love your writing, btw❤❞ - Sasattan (@sasattan)
When your little brothers disappeared, you were alone. No matter what anyone said or did, you refused to believe that they were dead. And so you waited. You never listened to your Aunt claiming it was time to move on, because how could you when they were still out there, holding on? You had to keep going, keep believing, not letting any lick of hope slip past your fingertips because the day when your two baby brothers would return was soon, you could feel it.
But as you eagerly awaited their return, time passed. And you grew older. And older. And older still. A mere two weeks passed and suddenly, you officially took the title as the Earl of Phantomhive, and the Queen’s Guard Dog. At fourteen years old, you bore responsibilities no child should ever have to.
And you had just turned fifteen years old when only one of your younger brothers returned, with that hellish butler of his.
·:¨༺ ♱✮¨:·ᨐฅ ᨐᵐᵉᵒʷ·:¨✮♱ ༻¨:·˚─── ⋆⋅⛥⋅⋆ ──
Owls cried beyond the window behind you as candle light washed the room you were in with a golden glow. The sound of a pen dashing across pages also filled the room. You sighed, deep and filled with melancholy, as you pushed a stack of pages by another - a finished pile - and grabbed another and quickly began to work. You knew it was long past midnight, all the servants in their quarters asleep.
And hopefully, Ciel as well. You had only just gotten him back a few months back. He had been painfully thin, eyes sunken into his skull and hair ridiculously thin when he returned. No matter how you or your Aunt pried and asked, Ciel wouldn’t answer where he’d been all that time. That one, God awful month of painful waiting. Your one birthday wish - a direct month after the manor burned - was that they would return.
And there Ciel would stand before his tomb. A ghost of the past returned to you in the most awful of ways.
Being the Guard Dog came with the side effect of witnessing the underbelly and gore of an England that worked under the cover of night, drenched in ash and blood. But what that eye held as he stared, limp and lifeless at you as that man, if you even dared call that beast a man, stood behind him smiling like he had won something. It would haunt you.
The pen dropped from your hand and your face fell forward onto the mahogany, falling to the side of the paper you had just been working on with a resounding ‘thump’ that echoed off the walls and reverberated in your ears. No matter how much you asked, or rather, begged him to let you in, to let his walls down and allow you the great pleasure of helping him work through whatever hell he evidently faced in such a long-feeling-yet-short amount of time, he refused. He’d look at you in a way you couldn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend, and mutter some ‘it wouldn’t matter’ under his breath and walk off with that dark thing following behind him.
Your head raised slowly and stared into the fire that crackled wildly with passion, focusing on your breathing so you didn’t spiral. You’d been stressed as of late, working on a particularly hard case while trying your best to be the shoulder Ciel so evidently needed to cry on. Endless amounts of paperwork had been forced on your shoulders and for some unspoken reason Funtom had suddenly taken a hit from a competitor, and working on a new product was sucking the absolute life out of you.
Your eyes were naturally drawn to the fire, gazing at the flickers of light and the bursts of cinder that would fall to the hearth and ignite in a final moment of flame before being silenced forever. Your eyes closed as the fire grew louder and you focused, brows furrowing as the world grew silent except for the growing roars of flame, ash and soot. The air seemed to grow heavy, mixing with a scent you hated but knew oh so intimately.
The case you had been handling lately involved the serial burnings of homes, each with families inside. The fires would always be set at midnight, and the homes were usually those of a wealthier lot. Nothing like an Earl or a Duke, but people with money nonetheless. The families always consisted of a mother, father, and at least one son, the most being quadruplets, never a daughter however. After the burning, the family would be confirmed dead by the suspect or suspects - you assumed it may be either a duo or a team - usually by caving heads and chests. The worst one so far had been a family where the father had just received a raise from his occupation - a butchers assistant - and all had died not a day later. What made it so bad was that fact that the twins burned in the fire were infants. Just barely two months old.
The remaining smell singed your nostrils and made your eyes water but you could not tear your eyes away from the group. The mother and father lying over the boys cradle, holding them in their arms.
You couldn’t help it. Shaking in your chair as your grit your teeth, trying to remove yourself from the thoughts that would replace that family with your own, hearing the panicked cries of your little brothers as fire consumed the walls and stairs, making escape nigh impossible.
You couldn’t help it as one of your hands trailed up your body, filled with blotches of burned flesh and stitches, gross and red and raised, that textured your skin under your bandages and thick, heavy clothes. It was sensitive. It was numb. You could feel the flames licking your skin as the crackling grew louder, breathing becoming harsh as hands raced to protect your face when the flames climbed the walls in your bedroom, making you scream.
You fell from your bed, night shirt clinging to your chest as sweat poured from your skin, crawling across your floor, which burned across your being, and pulled yourself up to wretch your door open, crumbling into the hall as you shouted for your family. You shuffled through the halls as servants ran about, screaming and crying. The smoke and heat stung at your eyes but you pushed forward, desperately calling for your mother and father. You collapsed into a wall, going low to take a deep breath and wheezing at the smoke you inhaled instead. You coughed, falling to the floor once more but continued to crawl, your calls much weaker than before.
Suddenly you were in the doorway of the study that held your family as fire burned through everything around you. It roared, forcing you back as you saw them huddled together, mother and father above your brothers. They screamed at you to stay back but you, ever the brash child, jumped through the flames to reach them, only for the floor to give out beneath you, leaving you trapped in the middle of the flames. It quickly ate away at you, nightshirt burning away and your skin blackening and peeling, your screams echoing across the home, actively being the loudest amongst the chaos. You struggled and cried, tears quickly drying up and evaporating, hands clawing at everything they could reach to pull yourself from the pain.
Hands wrapped around you, strong and safe, pulling on you. Unfortunately your leg took the brunt of the damage, snapping as you were pulled up from the ground. You cried, leg jutting at a horrible angle as you were rushed into the embrace of your mother, father cursing as he rushed back to the group. Your brothers clung to you, and you didn’t care as their nails dug into the fresh burns, stinging and bleeding. You looked up at your parents who were talking before your father spoke.
His voice was muffled, drowned out by the noise of the fire, and the group shuffled close to a window you hadn’t noticed, moving inch by inch in case any more floorboards were lose or weak. Your arms were tight around your brothers, hushing and shushing them, kissing their foreheads and patting their hair in attempts to comfort them. You all were as low to the ground as possible, the heat seeping into your bones and scorching your soul.
As soon as you all made it to the window, the fire had claimed over half the room and was right on your heels, its light blinding you. The adrenalin was the only thing keeping you from passing out from pain, mother's grip growing tighter as father rushed to the window and forced it open, eventually punching through the glass and lifting it that way, the noise imprinting itself in your brain.
You were torn from your brothers, a scream immediately shredding itself from your throat. Thrashing to the best of your ability, you were only calmed by your father’s hands on your shoulders. He glanced outside - to see if it was safe to jump you assumed - and leaned in close, pressing many kisses to your head. You looked back and saw your mother, who was still holding your brothers, smiling at you.
“You are the most injured of all of us. You need to go first.” Your father began. You immediately shook your head, pointing to your brothers but father shushed you.
“No. They’ll be out right behind you, I promise. I love you, so so much, and so does your mother. Please.” You looked back at the fire that was consuming the floors and walls at a rapid pace, creeping closer to your family. You sniffled, nodding, and hugged your father. He hugged you back, lifting you and carrying you to the window, mindful of the glass.
“Aim for the bushes, my little soldier. They’ll cushion your landing.” You nodded again. Before he dropped you, you turned to your father and family.
“I love you all.” You whispered. And you were met with declarations of love back. Then, the wind whipped wildly around you as you fell.
You didn’t know what happened, what changed your trajectory, why you were suddenly in so much pain.
… Your lower back hurt. Bad.
Something crashed above you and your saw the window you just fell out of grow dark, as though something fell in front of it inside, then flame burst forth from remains, glass raining down over your withered form, that of which screamed and cried.
You were never very religious. Church was not something your family partook in to often, but in that moment you preyed. Clasped your hands above your head and preyed, cried, and screamed. Your eyes were clouded with tears, and noticed that a red blob followed by several other blobs raced towards you, scream-like-noises emitting around you.
Voices sounding like they were calling from the bottom of the sea rung in your skull and made you cry more, hands coming to your ears as your vision darkened around the edges.
“BROTHER!!”
You didn’t react, covering your ears with both hands, begging that the noises and the lights would go away. Your leg, you couldn’t feel it. The damn thing felt like lead weight attached to you, the burns were itchy and your fingers raced to scratch at them, the heat of the flames making everything unbearable.
You started stripping, if just to cool off the tiniest bit, but something stopped you. A hand, it seemed. Before you could scream again you were sat up against a wall, figures dancing in your corroded sight. Your face, tainted as it was with scars, was wet with tears - bloody tears mind you - and drool from your stuck-open mouth, moaning and gasping and sobbing.
Your entire body shook as someone sat beside you, not saying anything for a moment. Finally, you heard a choked cry that wasn’t your own from that shadow beside you.
“What’s wrong..?” It whispered. The voice was soft and scratchy, as though it hadn’t been used in a long while. You sobbed again as the flames licked your terrorized flesh.
“The fire…” you murmured. Though before it could speak again you spoke more. “It took them from me… it burns… everything hurts… my leg…” your voice grew ever quieter as you strained, double vision making it hard to see your lap as you looked down and towards the leg that burned oh so painfully. In a moment of agonizing pain, your hands wrapped around the dead weight of your leg, teeth grinding together as you pulled at it. The voice gasped as you screamed out, the leg finally being torn from your body and launched across the field of grass you lay on. You cried harder as it flew and clattered against the dirt, the pain only getting worse. The voice was silent for only a moment more before speaking again.
“What do you need me to do?” It whispered, and you screamed. “MAKE IT STOP!.. MAKE THE FIRE STOP OH PLEASE!! IT BURNS LIKE HELL I CAN’T TAKE IT!!!” Your cries echoed as you slid on the wall until you were curled in a sideways fetal position, face pressed against the grass as you hiccupped.
More muddled voices filled your hearing as your vision blurred and danced, making the world spin and leap, disorienting you further. You pushed your head into your leg, sobbing even louder still. It stayed silent for a bit longer but the presence came closer and began breathing loudly, holding his breath for a couple seconds and exhaling just as loud. He did this a couple times and you couldn't help to copy, your breathing slowly matching that of the other's. Your tears still fell, but the shuddering came to a halt.
"(Y/n), where are you right now?" He questioned. You kept breathing, thinking with your eyes closed.
"I'm outside. T-the manor is on fire and... and uhm-" "Breathe." You nodded, stopping to breathe. The person beside you also kept breathing with you, emphasizing the deep breaths and long exhales.
"You're not outside, (Y/n). You're in a hallway inside the manor." Your breath shuttered and his breathing immediately got louder and you followed. "That night was a few month ago. The manor is fully rebuilt. You're in a hallway just outside the study. It's around... one? One AM, I believe." You nodded, still in fetal position. You whined, and curled a bit further into yourself. The other sighed and scooted closer.
"(Y/n)... can you look at me please?" You shivered, but nodded again. It took you a few seconds but eventually you were able to sit yourself back up and looked over, meeting the teary eyes of Ciel. You blinked, staring at him. It took you a moment, really taking in the fact that he was before you, not in the manor? You finally began looking around, breathing growing heavy again as tears welled up in your eyes.
"(Y/n)! (Y/n), look at me. You need to keep breathing." You nodded but kept looking around. You sniffed, rubbing at your face and eyes and itching at any burns on your face. "(Y/n), can you stop scratching please?" You huffed, and didn't comply. In fact, you scratched a little harder, skin braking and breathing a bit harder. You heard Ciel shuffle around, before appearing before you. He stared into your eyes, then raised his hands slowly. They slowly moved to your wrists, but you flinched back, thus making Ciel flinch. He kept looking you in the eye, an unspoken staring contest sparking between you. He broke it first, sighing.
"(Y/n), may I touch you?" You jumped, staying silent. You continued to stare, breathing deeply more. You nodded. He nodded as well, once more moving slowly and steadily to gently grip your wrists, pulling them from your face. You looked down as he muttered something about needing to bandage the wounds.
"Sebastian in going through the house and putting out all the fireplaces." Ciel suddenly mentioned. You looked up, still allowing him to hold onto you - which was now him holding your hands in his lap - and tilted your head, silently asking him what he meant.
"Earlier you said something about fire," he was purposely omitting what you said, you noticed, "So I sent him off. To put out all the fires in the manor, I mean." You got the double meaning relatively fast. He understood the man made you remarkably uncomfortable, and sent him away before you could even recognize he was there. You nodded again, acknowledging his statement.
“Do you want me to bring you your leg?” He asked. You squinted and he sighed. “I meant- Your prosthetic. Would you like me to bring your prosthetic leg to you? As well as your cane?” Your head rapidly shook and you shrunk into yourself.
“Do you want to go to your bedroom? Or office?” He looked confused, which was fair as you shook your head again. “Do you want to… stay here?” Finally you sighed. Ciel continued to sit before you, taking in the sight of such a shaken version you.
You looked so tired, eyes sunken and sweat rolling down your forehead. Your scarred and heavily bandaged face still had tear tracks, and the bandages trailed beneath the collar of your shirt and traced your arms and - assumedly - your remaining leg. You still shook a little, though much less than earlier. Your hair was a mess of fly-away’s and frizz, some even stuck to your cheek from when you collapsed in your office.
Both you and Ciel stared at each other, taking each other in. The signs of trauma literally stamped themselves all across you both, tailing each of you with a scent of death that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard you scrubbed at your skin. For a moment, both your breaths stilled. Then you started crying again.
Your head curled towards your chest, hands rushing to your face. Ciel immediately went to comfort you, but your head was then thrown back, knocking back on the wall, though that didn’t deter your laughter. A wide grin had found with way onto your face, eyes closed and tears streaming down your cheeks. Both your hands quickly found their way around Ciel’s shoulders, drawing him into a tight hug. Your head rested on his, sobbing into his hair.
Ciel sat there, gobsmacked, but finally leaned into your touch, his arms embracing you and nuzzled into your chest, tears finally finding their way into his eyes, and a muffled wail made its way from his throat.
“You’re here with me..! I... I can feel you! Don’t leave, okay? P-promise me you won’t leave..!” You cried. Ciel was pulled firmly into your lap so you could fully wrap around him, entirely engulfing him in your embrace. Both of you continued to hold each other, sobbing and laughing and crying. Everything seemed to piece together as you held each other, finally having your little brother in your arms. He hadn’t been this emotionally available since he returned, and work had kept you from interacting to much with him, so this? Feeling him against you when both of you were long past the line of breaking, it was nice.
Being here, with him, in this moment of weakness, was nice.
·:¨༺ ♱✮¨:·ᨐฅ ᨐᵐᵉᵒʷ·:¨✮♱ ༻¨:·˚─── ⋆⋅⛥⋅⋆ ──
{𝓝𝓸 𝓞𝓷𝓮'𝓼 𝓟.𝓞.𝓥}
Sebastian walked through the halls lit only by the candle in his grip after extinguishing every single fire place in the manor. He walked back to the last place he’d seen his young Master, that being with his older brother in a hall as said brother had an attack.
Sebastian would be a liar to say he hadn’t wanted to be there and “help” - he just wanted to see what that kind of attack was like, really - but unfortunately, he’d been sent off to make the teenager much more comfortable, even if he couldn’t see the fires in other rooms.
Something about “being able to be assured it won’t happen again” or whatever his Master had said.
His eyes stalked the halls, the candle nothing more than a formality as to not scare the children when he would find them, a dull smile plastered on his face. He truly wanted nothing more than to go back to his room and enjoy the latest cat he had stole- adopted.
His brisk pace paused as his gaze finally landed on the intertwined bodies of the two remaining Phantomhive children, (Y/n)’s body enveloping Ciel’s in a firm embrace, the duo sound asleep against the floor. (Y/n)’s leg was a length away, and the candle Ciel had was little more that a nub surrounded by wax. Ciel’s head was cushioned by (Y/n)’s hand, the elders own body being the thing the majority of Ciel’s own body rested on.
Sebastian stared at them for a moment, simply taking in the view, and walked towards them, slipping a hand under (Y/n) and balancing Ciel on top of him, walking them both towards the Earl’s bedroom. The walking seemingly jostled them a bit, as (Y/n) groaned and hugged Ciel tighter. One of his eyes peaked open, looking at Sebastian who kept his eyes forward.
His eyes stayed on the older’s face, trained on his features. Sebastian ignored the look and kept pressing forward through the cold halls, candle somehow still balanced in his hand but far enough to not distress the drowsy boy anymore for the night.
“… Thank you.” (Y/n) muttered, eye closing back and falling back into sleep. Sebastian finally eyed him as the boy snuggled Ciel closer, who only grunted into his chest. The rocking motion led (Y/n) back into slumber, evident by the deep breathing and the most relaxed expression Sebastian had seen on his face.
The Demon only huffed, a ghost of a smile on his face. He walked them to (Y/n)'s bedroom, pulling back the sheets of the bed and laying them both down. He didn't even try to separate them, knowing that it would be useless to even try with them both in the emotional state they were in, even if in sleep.
Sebastian pulled the covers over them, running a hand through both heads of hair. With candle still in hand, he walked out the room, closing the door till a crack, staring at the two children who pulled the other impossibly closer. Something deep in the man's eyes shined, though it was nothing but a dull glimmer.
"Goodnight, Young Masters." He breathed. He gently closed the door behind him, leaving the two to dream the night away.
The moon danced over their sleeping forms, the cloudless night offering stars to light their paths deeper into the realm of sleep. Both subconsciously reaching out to their sibling to calm their troubled minds and finally find some semblance of sleep for the first time in weeks.
Finally reunited, though with much work of reconciliation ahead of them, was nice.
Being together, holding each other; knowing the other was there, safe and sound, was nice.
This first moment of true calm mental silence, was nice.
{𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓼}: I hope this pleases, because for some reason this was incredibly difficult to write. I did, however, give it my all and push through so that I may deliver. Again, I hope you enjoy nonetheless.
-🖋️
All publishings on this account belong to @fountain-pen-anon. I do not authorize my fics being altered, translated, stolen or published/reposted to other sites, thank you.
© fountain-pen-anon - all rights reserved
#⸸⚜/ᐠ - ˕ -マ‧˚꒰🐾꒱༘⋆✄┈┈┈┈ 𝓓𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓻 𝓲𝓼 𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓮𝓭#⸸⚜ฅ/ᐠ˶> ﻌ<˶ᐟ\ฅ‧˚꒰🐾꒱༘⋆✄┈┈┈┈ 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻'𝓼 𝓡𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓼#x male reader#child reader#x child reader#black butler#ciel phantomhive#Sebastian michaelis#male reader#black butler x reader
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WIBTA
Would I be the asshole if I pull out of being a bridesmaid for my 'best friend'?
Background: E and I became best friends at 13 and we are both about to turn 43. we've been through a million ups and downs together. She has a crappy family and I became friend, sister, mother, support. In the last 15 years or so she has become a functional alcoholic and I have found it harder and harder to deal with her. I've bailed her out so many times. I've 'loaned' her thousands of dollars that I have no expectation of ever seeing again. I've tried to support her and given her advice when she asked for it (even though I knew she would ignore it) and listened to her problems (for hours and hours as she sucked down wine and got drunker and drunker). When she's not a drunken mess she's an awesome person, kind, funny, caring, generous and soberE was usually worth having to put up with dunkE.
Twice in our friendship we've had fights where it's taken us a long time to get back to speaking terms but there would be a text here and a phone call there, then we'd be back to talking for hours every other day. A year ago we had a huge fight and I decided I just needed to not talk to her for a while. I didn't even feel bad about not talking to her, it was almost a luxury to not sit on the phone and listen to her get progressively drunker as she slurped red wine. I did try the old tested route back to close friendship earlier this year. I would send her some texts when something big was happening or when I came across something I knew she'd like. But I would only get 1 or 2 word texts back. In February there was a major flood in our home town and I was freaking out about my family that still lived there - she was not, I felt like I was more worried about her mother than she was, I know they've got a bad relationship but we're talking a bodies floating around kind of situation. I was making multiple 5 hour mercy dashes with car loads of aid supplies and freaking out seeing these places we spent our childhood just destroyed and texting her about it and getting nothing back. I made a couple more efforts to contact her over the next couple of months but still nothing much back. Around May-June I decided I wasn't going to bother contacting her, I'd talk if she contacted me but I wasn't putting in effort anymore.
In September she sent me a text saying she was getting married in Jan 2025 and would I be one of her bridesmaids. I really didn't want to say yes. But almost 30 years of friendship, I felt guilty turning her down. And it felt like an overture on her part, like she was ready to make an effort. So I said yes and have been regretting it since. We are still not really speaking. We'll like each other's FB posts and that's about it. I mean there's still plenty of time for us to become friends again but I'm pretty much decided that if our relationship hasn't improved by the middle of 2024 I'm going to politely back out. It's going to be a backyard DIY wedding, she won't expect me to be heavily involved in the planning because she lives so far away that I couldn't do much more than turn up for the day and stand up with her. Me pulling out won't leave a hole in the planning so I know I wouldn't be an asshole for that. Where I might be an asshole is I think she would be really sad if I'm not there because I am the closest thing she's got to family, I know her mother and step-father won't be there and it's unlikely her brother will be. But I also kinda don't care because I'm sick of making the effort to be there for her when she's not making any effort for me.
So would I be the asshole if I pulled out of the wedding of my friend of 30 years?
What are these acronyms?
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The roommate
Surprise! Happy Halloween/Diwali/Dia de los muertos everyone!
Credits to @tojishugetiddies for giving me a base idea. Thanks, sweetie ☺️!
This is just a two-parter, so I’m releasing part 1 today and then part 2 tomorrow on Halloween itself.
Also, side note: I came up with the Optimus Prime idea before I went to watch the Transformers One movie, but I can’t recommend it enough!!! It’s SO GOOD 😭😭😭😭😭!!!
Original story
BONUS Halloween story!
Part 1
Part 2
Warnings: none.
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Roommate!Miguel who walks down the stairs in his costume.
Your neighbourhood was notorious for doing a big blowout celebration for Halloween and just like you always had, you loved dressing up for it. Your kids were old enough this year to go trick-or-treating with their friends, but you didn’t mind staying at home to hand out candy with Miguel- it gave you a chance to admire the other kids’ outfits and also left you with some alone time to get up to a little ‘trick-or-treating’ of your own with your big, strong husband … 🤭
You rip open a packet of sweets and pour the contents into one of the large bowls in front of you and your son takes advantage of the opportunity to snatch a sweet as he walks past. You tsk at him in irritation, but Rio just shrugs and pulls out his phone as he takes a seat at the dining table.
Roommate!Miguel who wraps his arms around your waist as he comes up behind you.
“Need any help, querida?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek in greeting. You twist your head around to give him a smile, then snicker softly at the fake moustache you’d drawn onto his upper lip.
You’d called him into your bathroom after finishing your own makeup, then sat him down on the chair in front of your dresser. He’d slid his hands up your thighs as you’d climbed onto his lap, his fingers squeezing and stroking you while you’d sketched the fine hairs onto his face.
‘Miguel,’ you’d chastised him as his lips had stretched into a smile, ‘try not to smile so much.’
He’d grinned at your soft laughter and moved his hands up to your waist.
‘I can’t help it, querida,’ he’d told you apologetically. ‘Why didn’t you just let me grow my own moustache?'
‘Because,’ you’d argued, getting back to work, ‘you’d look like a creep. And it would be annoying to kiss you.’
He’d snuck his fingers beneath your shirt and began running them across your skin as you’d continued and soon, your costume prep time had turned into a full-on makeout session with your sweet and sexy husband.
Roommate!Miguel who steals a sweet out of the bowl as well.
Your jaw drops in surprise and you glare at him as he walks around the kitchen island to take a seat in front of you.
“Like father, like son,” you grumble, shaking your head in disapproval as you tear open another bag of sweets. “If I ask the two of you for help, you’ll probably finish all the sweets on your own.”
Miguel glances over at his son in question, but Rio just shoots him the same confused look he was sure was on his own face. “!Papà!”
Miguel looks up as your youngest son barrels down the stairs, a look of alarm on his little face.
“¡Ten cuidado, pollito! (Be careful!)” Miguel warns him, holding his hands out as Rafael races towards him. His son slows down a little, but his body still buzzes with panic.
“!Papà! The lights aren’t working! Fix it!”
Roommate!Miguel whose lips twitch with amusement at his son’s demand.
He’d helped him attach the optical-fibre cables running through his Optimus Prime costume a few days ago, but something seemed to have gone wrong in the meantime. Miguel turns Rafael around and examines the cables, finding the problem easily. He reattaches the loose wire and turns the switch on, causing the costume to light up as they had intended.
“Yes!” Rafael exclaims, bouncing with excitement. “¡Gracías, Papà!”
He gives his dad a quick hug, then dashes back up to his room without another word.
“Rio?” you call. “What time are your friends getting here?”
Rio checks his phone again for any new messages. “They said they should be here in about ten minutes. They’re picking up Danny first.”
“Who’s he dressed as?” Miguel asks, trying to find a way to steal another sweet from one of the bowls. Rio grins and sets his phone aside.
“Daphne,” he reveals delightedly. “He got his mum to help him alter his skirt and everything! I think he’s going to steal his sister’s heels, but Shawn said he’s going to bring a spare pair of sneakers in case his feet start to hurt.”
His friends had decided to dress up at the Scooby Doo gang and though your son looked the polar opposite of the pale-skinned, blond-haired all-American golden boy, they’d still chosen him to play Fred thanks to the good looks he’d inherited from you and Miguel.
Roommate!Miguel who turns to the door when one of your neighbours pops her head in and calls out to you.
“Hi everyone!” Sana begins, trying to keep the group of eleven-year-olds behind her at bay. “Is Rafael ready?”
The woman had moved to your neighbourhood last year with her husband and two sons - the oldest of whom had quickly become good friends with your youngest. She was tall and thin with dark hair that always looked like she’d just come from the salon. Miguel stands and calls up the stairs for Rafa to come down and you don’t miss the way Sana’s eyes travel down your husband’s broad back.
“Rafa! Rashid is here!” Miguel turns to shoot her an amused look as Rafa scurries back down the stairs and Sana returns it with a practised smile of her own. You lower your head to hide the way your eyes roll, then bend over to give your son a hug.
“Bye, mami, love you!” Rafa recites before running around the island to tell the same to his dad.
“Bye, bebito! ¡Te amo, mi solito!” you call after him as he disappears out the door with his friends. Miguel yells the same, then sits back down again.
Roommate!Miguel who jumps up again when he sees his daughter coming down the stairs.
“Gabriella?!” he exclaims, unsure whether to be angry or terrified. “¡¿Qué diablos estás llevas?! (What the hell are you wearing?!)”
Gabi stops and stares back at her father with his same deep-set, upturned eyes.
“It’s my costume,” she replies, folding her arms across the tight shirt she’d put on over a pair of rolled-up shorts and a set of outrageously inappropriate fishnet stockings.
“What are you supposed to be?” Rio asks, narrowing his eyes in thought as he puzzles over his sister’s ‘costume’. You move to stand beside your husband and your features melt into a frown when you see what your daughter intends to leave the house in.
“A witch?” Gabriella replies, gesturing to her pointed hat as if it should have been obvious. You cross your arms and raise an eyebrow at her.
“I thought witches were supposed to look scary?” you muse out loud. “Not like a teenage boy's wet dream.”
“¡Mamà!” Gabi screeches in horror at the same time that Rio groans, “¡Ay, mami! ¡Por amor de Dios! (For the love of God!)”
You shrug, unbothered by your children’s complaints. “If you're embarrassed to hear me say it, you should be embarrassed to let me see it. Who's the boy?”
Gabi furrows her brow in confusion. “What boy?”
“The boy you’re trying to impress with this outfit?” you reply. “Which you should never be doing, by the way: that’s a red flag. The guy should always be trying to impress you.”
Roommate!Miguel whose eyebrows shoot up at your words.
He thinks back to the time before you’d started dating, trying to recall if he’d worked to impress you any more than you had. Maybe you were right: he could remember doing a few extra reps every time you’d joined him in the gym and he had shown off a little whenever you guys had studied together in the library or your shared living room. And there was that time he’d learned how to make your favourite dish so he could see the adorable smile that would light up your features when you came home to it after class. Ay, mierda. Maybe he really had always been trying to impress you.
“There’s no guy, mami,” Gabi sighs, rolling her eyes at your implication. You fix your daughter with a challenging look and she finally starts feeling self-conscious.
“There isn’t!” she insists, shifting awkwardly in position. “It’s just … Everyone else my age dresses up like this now!”
You turn to Rio in question. “Rio? Does everyone in Gabi’s year dress up like this?”
“We wear school uniforms, mamà,” Rio replies exasperatedly, not wanting to be dragged into the conversation.
“Outside of school?” you question, mimicking his sarcastic tone. Rio shrugs and glances at his phone again.
“I dunno,” he replies, coolly “I don't go around looking at fourteen-year-olds outside of school.”
“Right answer …” Miguel supposes, confused by his son’s response. “Wrong situation.”
You let your hands fall back to your sides, then you start walking up the stairs towards Gabriella.
“Wait.” You stop suddenly and quickly return to the kitchen to grab the bowl of candy. Gabi furrows her brows at you, but holds a hand out to help you.
“What are you doing?” she asks, helping you carry the bowls up to her room.
“I am making sure your brother stays healthy and your father stays hot,” you reply, prompting a wince out of your daughter.
“Why do I keep asking you questions I know I don't want to hear the answers to?”
“Because you're your father's daughter.”
Roommate!Miguel whose entire body warms at your words.
How could you still call him ‘hot’, even after all this time? After seventeen years of marriage and three kids? Rio jumps up as the sound of his friends’ voices float through the doorway.
“Bye, mami! Bye, Gabi!” he calls up the stairs, prompting you to rush out of his sister’s room and back down the stairs.
“Wait! Let me see your costumes!” you screech excitedly, gesturing for Miguel to get your phone. He grabs it from the kitchen island and turns on the camera as he joins you. “Oh my god! You boys look so good!”
You lean over to look at the photos he’s taken and Miguel wraps his arm around your waist.
“Thanks, Mrs O’Hara,” Nick replies, flicking his shaggy wig out of his eyes. He takes in your costume: a long-sleeved black dress that exposes your collarbone and clings to your figure. “You look good too! The Addams family?”
He shoots you a cheeky wink and Miguel pulls you a little closer into his side.
“This is why I don’t invite you guys over anymore,” Rio says, smacking his friend on the back of the head.
“Oh my god!” Gabi squeals, joining the two of you on the porch. “You guys look amazing!”
“You look,” Shawn begins excitedly, his features lighting up when he sees Gabi. He pauses quickly, calming himself down so he doesn’t come across as too eager, then he finishes coolly, “nice too.”
Gabriella smiles, oblivious to Shawn’s sudden shyness in her presence. “Thanks! My mum helped me!”
Roommate!Miguel who breathes a sigh of relief when he sees his daughter’s new outfit.
You’d made her roll her shorts back down to her mid-thighs and gotten rid of the fishnet stockings beneath. Then you’d switched her two-sizes-too-small shirt to an oversized black band tee you’d tucked into her shorts and rolled up the sleeves of. Finally, you’d clipped a section of her hair back, revealing her kohl-lined eyes, cherry red lips and two small fangs that peeked out from between her lips whenever she smiled.
“Whoa, are you … shining, honeybee?” Danny asks, squinting to check that he was seeing right. Gabi frowns at the nickname, but holds her arms out for everyone to see.
“Yup!” she confirms delightedly. “But it’s a secret.”
“Hey, bee!” Mayday calls, walking through their gate in almost the exact same outfit Gabriella had had on earlier. “Are you- Oh! Hi, Rio …”
Rio grimaces as she lowers her head, letting her curly hair fall over her shy smile. You press your lips together as Miguel digs his fingers into your side and reach up to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. It was pretty obvious that his best friend’s daughter had a crush on your oldest son, but your husband had insisted time and time again that though he loved Peter, he did not want to become his brother-in-law.
‘I don’t think that’s how it works, cariño,’ you’d supposed, amused by your husband’s horror at the very prospect.
‘Good,’ Miguel had responded firmly. ‘I don’t want it to work.’
“Bye, guys!” Rio exclaims, pushing his friends out the gate before Mayday could say anything more.
“Bye, papito! ¡Te amo!” you call after him quickly. Mayday waves at the group as they rush past, then she jogs over to her best friend.
“Wow! Nice dress, Aunty X! And you look really good in that suit, Uncle Miguel! Oh my god!” She stops suddenly when she notices Gabriella’s outfit. “You look so good, Gabi! How did you …?”
“My mum helped,” she explains, pulling her friend in the house behind her. “Come on! I’ll help you get changed, then we can still match!”
Continue
Tags: @sukunash0e @safixiovi @amberbalcom14 @shack-wheel-oneal
#miguel fanfic#miguel x reader#miguel x oc#atsv miguel#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x you#miguel spiderverse#miguel smut#miguel x you#spiderman 2099 fanfiction#miguel fluff#miguel x y/n#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel ohara smut#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara fluff#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara fluff#miguel o'hara spiderverse#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara fic#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel ohara fic#miguel ohara fanfiction
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Chapter 6: Monday Madness
Summary: Between whopping Frankie's ass and waking up late Y/N was not too fond of Mondays right now
Chapter 7: https://www.tumblr.com/satinsummer/761572777823272960/chapter-7-self-sabotage
Pairing: G!P Reader x Fem!Sam Carpenter
WARNINGS: Suggestive language, SMUT , Drug Usage (smoking weed) 18+ No Men or Minors
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Nobody's POV:
Monday morning began with a jarring interruption. Y/N's alarm blared insistently, pulling her from a deep sleep. Disoriented and groggy, she barely had time to react as Sam's door flew open and her best friend came bursting in, eyes wide with panic. "Y/N!! Get up, we have to get home right now if we even stand a chance at showing up for our first class" She rushed out.
Still half-asleep, Y/N scrambled around the room to gather her belongings, trying to wake her body up in the process. The frantic pace of the morning left her with barely enough time to say a proper goodbye to Sam. Their parting was quick, marked by a rushed kiss and promises to catch up for lunch later. With no time to spare, Y/N and Y/BF/N dash out of the apartment, leaving behind the tranquil morning for a whirlwind of activity.
Sam and Tara eventually got their morning started, rolling out of their now cold beds and greeting each other as Tara shuffled into the kitchen wrapped in a fuzzy blanket. Taking her sisters mug out of her hand, she finished the coffee that remained in it and kissed her cheek before heading into the living room. "Y/BF/N says she left her notes here and she needs them for her exam today. Can you take me to drop them off? She wants to grab lunch with us and the others before my 1pm class." Tara yells to her sister. "What time?" "11:30ish, her and Y/N will meet as at the quad with the others!"
Back on campus, 11:30
As the chaos of the morning faded, Y/N and Y/BF/N stepped out of the lecture hall together, sun now hanging low over the university buildings, casting long shadows across the green lawns. As they walk Y/N is lazily sucking on a lollipop, her other hand clutching the laptop at her side. Y/BF/N, had her bag slung over one shoulder as she's animatedly discussing their professors latest lecture. Y/N listens with a smirk, chiming in with dry comments that make her friend laugh. The atmosphere between them is easy and relaxed; a total contrast from the way they were falling over one another this morning as they stumbled into their shard loft. Enjoying the walk across campus, eager to see their two favorite girls for lunch. They neared the outdoor seating area underneath the old oak tree where the core 4 and Anika awaited their arrival, until two girls, strangers to them, approaching with confident strides stepped in their way.
One of the girls was small and blonde, her bright green eyes scanning the length of Y/N's body. The other girl was a Tall brunette, her hazel eyes trained on Y/BF/N as she walked towards her. The blonde girl eyed Y/N's lollipop and commented playfully "That looks sweet, you think I could get a taste?" Y/N raises an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across her face as she rolls the lollipop to the other side of her mouth. She responds in a teasing tone, "You wouldn't be able to handle it"
Meanwhile the taller girl standing in front of her best friend was still trying to win her over. Y/BF/N looks more bemused than interested as the girl begins rattling off compliments "You've got a really great smile" "Yeah? What else?" She asks tilting to her head and playing into the attention she was receiving. Back at the table Sam, Tara and the others began to watch the scene unfold, their eyes shifting between Y/N and Y/BF/N and the girls in front of them. Much to the twins and Anika's surprise both sisters remained seated, their expressions calm, as if this was all a lunchtime distraction. Tara crosses her arms with a faint smile. "Well, this should be interesting" she remarks, her eyes never leaving Y/BF/N. Sam, seated across her, is similarly composed. She doesn't say anything, but there's a fire in her gaze as she watches Y/N. It's clear to anyone watching she paying very close attention.
Chad, always the instigator, chuckles. "Two for two. Your ladies are too hot to trot." He snickers at them. Sam smirks, but doesn't respond, her eyes are fixed on Y/N. With her usual charm, she twirled the lollipop in her mouth while still engaging with the girls. Her smile confident and inviting, her voice playful and teasing. Y/N's eyes flick over to where Sam is sitting, catching the look on her face---calm, but with a glint in her eyes that tells Y/N she's watching closely. Y/N feels a spark of heat at the idea of Sam seeing this, knowing she's probably got some choice words ready . She decides to see where this goes, at least for a moment longer. "You're pretty forward, huh?" Y/N says, looking down at the girl, her voice amused but firm. Grinning up at her the shorter girl responds "Only when I see something I like" she purrs, stepping even closer, hand sliding up Y/N's arm before she caught the girls wrist. Sam leans back in her seat, her expression cool but intense. She makes a low sound in a her throat, somewhere between a chuckle and a growl. "She's really pushing it, isn't she?" she mutters to Tara, who nods, her eyes still fixed on her own girlfriend who was still enjoying the attention on her. "Oh yeah, they both are. Think they know we're watching?" She responds. "Without a doubt"
"Damn, you two are just gonna let this play out?" Mindy questions. Neither of them answer. Sam watches Y/N's reaction--the way she leans back, that easy smirk still on her face, not moving to brush the girl off just yet. There's a slow burn building in Sam's chest, a mix of irritation and something much hotter.
Y/N and her best friend shared a look, the fun was over and these girls needed to kick rocks now. "What do you think, babe?" Y/BF/N yells to Tara "Should I let her buy me a drink?" Tara grins, shaking her head. "Go ahead, see if she's got good taste" she calls out, her tone light but her eyes sharp. Sharing a glance with her sister in a silent agreement to keep things calm and collected as they continue watching. Y/N on the other hand is getting tired of the flirtation coming from both of the girls. "You're persistent but, no thanks" She says politely stepping around both girls, Y/BF/N following suit and continuing towards the table. As she approached the table Sam remained calm, her face unreadable but her eyes burning with a controlled heat. Y/N sat down next to her, eyes twinkling with mischief. "You two looked like you where having a good time" she remarked, her tone light but edged with something darker. Y/N met her gaze, a teasing smile on her face. "It was entertaining" she replied "nothing we couldn't handle."
Y/BF/N slipped in next to Tara, who immediately leaned over and whispered something in her ear, making Y/BF/N laugh. "I think we handled that pretty well, don't you?" She asked, shooting Tara a playful look. Rolling her eyes Tara smiled and agreed "Yeah, I'd say you both did well. But don't think we didn't see everything"
Brushing her hand against Sam's underneath the table, Y/N leaned in close, her voice dropping to a private whisper. "Jealous?" Sam's lips twitched into a small smile, hand slipping into Y/N's under the table. "Maybe a little" she admitted, her voice low and thick with promise. "But you will make it up to me later." "Counting on it" Y/N whispered back.
The group slowly slipped back into their usual rhythm, making conversation, sharing snacks and exchanging notes. Noticing the time Y/N began packing up to head to her next class, sparing Sam a glance hoping she'd offer to walk with her. Bidding farewell to her friends and Sam she got up from the table and began walking toward the culinary building. "No goodbye kiss?" She heard from behind her, stopping mid step Y/N turned around and smiled "I didn't want to press my luck" she replies, eyes dropping to Sam's lips. As they lingered by the bustling campus walkway, Sam and Y/N stood close, just out of earshot of their friends, who were still finishing up. Y/N shifted foot to foot, her eyes stealing glances at Sam's face. Somehow Sam always made her so shy, yet the older girl seemed so relaxed, leaning on a nearby bench smiling softly at Y/N.
Pulling Sam close, Y/N dropped a kiss on her lips, lingering a bit longer than this morning when she was rushing out of the door. Pulling back and looking at Sam once more, she tried to find the words to ask to stay with her again tonight, to feel that peace once more but the way Sam was staring at her like she put the stars in the sky was making it hard. "You okay?" she asked gently, reaching up and soothing the crease in Y/N forehead with her thumb. "Yeah, I'm good" she replied while her thoughts continued to eat at her. Glancing down at her shoes, her mind was racing as she tried to ground herself. She took a breath before she decided to go for it, albeit carefully. "I just...I'm going to be really tired after class, assignments and dinner later. And, well, I was thinking..."She trailed off rubbing the back of her neck anxiously, eyes still not meeting Sam's "I was wondering if it'd be okay if I um, came over and stayed at your place tonight?" Her voice a little hesitant. "No pressure, of course. I just...I felt really at peace in your bed, and I thou-" "Yes" Sam smiled, her eyes softening as she cut Y/N off with a gentle chuckle. "You don't need to explain, Y/N. I'd really..like that" She added very warm and reassuring. "I'd love for you to stay."
Y/N felt a rush of warmth flood through her, a sense of belonging that she was still getting used to but found herself craving more and more. She nodded, biting back the urge to be overly eager. "Alright, I'll come over after a shower. I'll bring dinner?" Sam's eyes gleamed with softness, "Sounds Perfect."
Y/N smiled brightly, feeling a weight lift off her chest. She hadn't realized how much she needed to hear that until now. There was a sense of certainty in Sam's words that soothed her nerves. They stood there for a moment longer, just soaking in each others presence, neither of them in a rush to break away. Finally, Y/N sighed as she checked her watch. "I should get to class" She said reluctantly, taking a small step back. Sam nodded, "Yeah, wouldn't to keep you from that" Y/N took another step back, then stopped herself, leaning down and placing another kiss on Sam's lips--with a promise of more to come. "See you tonight, Sammy" She whispered, a playful glint in her eyes. Sam chuckled, her hand coming up to grab Y/N's jaw "See you tonight" her voice filled quiet anticipation.
With one last smile, Y/N turned and started walking towards her class, her heart lighter and her steps a bit quicker. She couldn't help but glance back over her shoulder, catching Sam's gaze still fixed on her, a soft smile playing on her lips. As Y/N disappeared around the corner, she couldn't help but feel the growing excitement about tonight. She hadn't fully articulated it yet, but there was something about being in Sam's space, in her bed, that felt like home. She couldn't wait to be back there, in that warm place where everything just felt..right.
9 Hours Later 8:30pm
Sam had a long day and the only thing she looked forward to was dinner with Y/N. After leaving the university earlier she went to work where the hours seemed to stretch on, each one feeling longer than the last. Now she was home, freshly showered and patiently awaiting Y/N's arrival with dinner. Hearing a soft knock at the door and knowing it's Y/N on the other side she takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself, and she opens the door. There stands Y/N, her face illuminated by the hallway light always looking effortlessly gorgeous. She's holding an insulated bag and a bottle of wine in her left hand, a fresh loaf of bread in her right and she’s smiling softly. Sam's eyes dart to the bottle, noting with a grin that it looks older than both of them combined.
"Hey" Y/N says softly, her eyes locking onto Sam's. There's an electricity in the air, a kind of unspoken tension that hangs between them. "Hey" Sam replies, her voice barely above a whisper. She steps aside to let Y/N in, and as she walks past her, Sam catches a hint of her cologne--something woodsy but still light, it's intoxicating. Y/N begins to unpack the bag placing the items on the coffee table and setting dinner up for them. "I hope you're hungry. I brought a feast, I learned the pasta recipe earlier in class" Y/N turns around smiling at Sam. Taking a seat on the couch Sam took in the set up in front of her, there was two medium sized pyrex bowls of steaming pasta placed next to one another, a bigger bowl of salad placed in front of them and soon enough a plate of freshly baked & sliced Italian bread joined them. The rich aroma of garlic, tomatoes, and fresh herbs fills the room. Hoping up and running to the kitchen Sam opens the drawer, pulling out a corkscrew, and two forks, she then turns and grabs two wine glasses from the cabinet above her before returning back to Y/N who's now is seated and watching Sam with intense eyes.
"Wanna do the honors?" Sam asks, holding up the corkscrew. "Sure" Y/N replies softly, stepping close she takes the tool from Sam her touch lingering a bit. It's a fleeting touch, but it sends a jolt through Sam, her skin tingling where they connected. Y/N starts to open the wine, her arms flexing slightly and eyes flickering down to meet Sam's. As the cork pops free, Sam lets out a soft chuckle "You make it look really easy" She says, eyes fixed on her tattoo covered arms. Smiling she begins to pour the wine, handing a glass to Sam before picking up her own. She lifts her glass, and they clink them together in a silent "cheers". The wine is rich and full-bodied, warming Sam from the inside out, but she barely tastes it; her attention is fully on Y/N. The two girls begin eating, sitting so close their knees are almost touching. Conversation flowed easily at first, filled with laughter and shared stories, but beneath it, there's a palpable undercut of tension, a magnetic pull that neither of them addressed directly. At one point Sam reaches for bread and her hand brushes against Y/N's. They freeze, eyes meeting, and the room suddenly feels much warmer. In another instance Y/N finds herself watching Sam closely as she takes a bite of her pasta, enjoying the way Sam's lips wrapped around the fork. Every small moment felt magnified, dripping with the kind of sensuality that made Y/N painfully hard.
After they finish eating, Y/N cleans up and rejoins Sam on the couch. She sits down close to her, their thighs brushing against one another. The air between them is charged. Sam's eyes flick down to Y/N's lips as she finishes off the rest of her wine, tongue darting out to catch a stray drop. Sam's heart pounds harder, her body thrumming with a deep, steady ache. They resume talking, their words light but their voices carrying a weight that makes every breath feel heavier. Sam laughs at something Y/N says, a soft, throaty sound that sends a thrill through the younger girl. Y/N reaches out, her fingers tracing the edge of Sam’s jaw, sliding up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She lingers there, her thumb brushing the soft skin of Sam’s cheek, as they both felt the heat in the room rising again.
Sam’s laughter fades, and her eyes growing dark as she melts into Y/N’s touch. Without thinking she leans in, her eyes lidded, lips parting slightly. Y/N meets her halfway, and their lips finally touch. It’s a slow, exploratory kiss at first. The taste of wine and the faint saltiness of the pasta on their lips mixing together. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more needy. Y/N’s slides her hands down to Sam’s waist, pulling her into her lap in one smooth motion. Her fingers tugging at Y/N’s shirt pulling her closer, stealing the air from her lungs as she presses down on to Y/N’s front. Wrapping her arms around Sam, the girls mold deeper into one another feeling like they could never get close enough. “I’ve been thinking about you all day” Y/N confesses, as she pulls away and rests her forehead against Sam’s. Moving to cup her face after locking eyes, Sam whispers a quiet “Me too”
Before they can dive back into each other, the sound of the front door clicking open slices through their heated moment like a knife. Sam’s heart jumps out of her chest, and Y/N’s eyes widen. Quickly pulling apart, their heads snap towards the sound. Standing there in the middle of the entryway is Tara and Y/BF/N, both of their eyes widening in surprise at the scene in front of them. Tara’s eyebrows shoot up, clearly taken aback and all Y/BF/N can do is look between the two flushed, swollen lipped girls with a shit eating grin on her face. Freezing for a moment not entirely sure to react to the sudden interruption, Sam climbs off of Y/N's lap, trying to smooth down her hair and fixing her shirt so she could look more presentable. Y/N on the other hand is somewhere between embarrassment and frustration, her dick was aching for Sam’s touch. Willing herself to calm down, she clears her throat awkwardly.
“Uh..hey, Tara..Y/BF/N” Sam says, her voice a little too high pitched, clearly flustered. Stifling a laugh Tara eyes her older sister before responding “Hey Sam..Y/N/N” she teases in an amused tone. Y/BF/N nudges her slightly a knowing grin still sitting on her face. “Don’t mind us. We were just coming by to grab some stuff” Y/BF/N says, eyes still on the side of Y/N's face. Sam can’t help the nervous chuckle that falls from her mouth, her cheeks still flushed she avoids making direct eye contact with either of them. “I need a smoke” Y/N says, immediately removing herself from the couch and leaving the apartment.
“Right, well…we won’t be long” Tara says with a smirk, waving her hand dismissively as she continues her journey into the shared apartment. Sam quickly stands up and makes a beeline for a her room, trying to salvage what’s left of her dignity. Closing the door softly and turning on her TV, Sam tries to stop the pounding in her chest. Soon she hears Tara and Y/BF/N leaving but not before her sister is yelling a quick goodbye, pulling the door closed behind them. As Sam tried to lose herself in the TV, she couldn't help but think about that moment on campus earlier. Sam watched from the table as Y/N carefully played into the attention being directed at her but the entire time her eyes never left Sam's, almost challenging her to get up and claim Y/N with reckless abandon.
Returning inside Y/N made a quick stop in the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her hands before heading to Sam's room. Pushing the door open slowly, stepping in and closing it behind her. The private sanctuary of Sam's room was the only place where they could reclaim what had been taken from them and where Y/N could fully express her devotion. She walked slowly across the room, each step calculated. Sam's eyes lit up as Y/N leaned down and kissed her. It started slow, filled with an intense tenderness, as their deepened the TV's soft glow became a mere backdrop to the intimate exchange unfolding in Sam's bed.
(SMUT BELOW; MINORS AND MEN DNI)
Y/N hands roamed all over Sam's body with a reverence that spoke volumes of shared feelings. Pushing Y/N back as they parted for air Sam stood up from her bed. Before Y/N could register what was happening Sam dropped to her knees in front of her, looking up with a mixture of need and authority that took Y/N's breath away. There was no hesitation in her movements, no second-guessing. Not wasting another second, she begins pulling Y/N's sweats down, her satin boxers following shortly after. Sam looks up once more as she places a single kiss to the tip of Y/N's cock before slowly taking the whole length into her mouth.
Y/N can't believe it, SAMANTHA CARPENTER is on her knees, sucking her off with a relentless, steady pace that makes her head spin. Sam's mouth is skillful, dragging up and down the length of her shaft and always stopping to suckle the tip gently before repeating her process. Looking down Y/N see's Sam eyes are fixed on her, shinning with pride as she feels her reaching down and brushing the hair out her face. She keeps her eyes on Y/N, watching every reaction, every twitch of the cock inside her mouth, it sends her reeling. Her control is absolute but then she sees it--the small flicker of arrogance in Y/N's eyes, the lazily smirk tugging at her lips.
"You think you've got me figured out, don't you?" Y/N says, her breath hitching as she fights to keep her composure. Her tone taunting, a hint of challenge in her words. "Down on your knees, taking orders..it's almost cute" she adds as her hips thrust in tandem with Sam's sucking. She pauses, her mouth hovering just over Y/N, her eyes narrowing. She pulls back slowly, dragging her tongue up and down the base before halting her movements completely. "Cute?" Sam repeats, voice low and mocking . "Oh, baby. You've got this all wrong"
"You think I like that?" she retorts, her tone sharp, cutting right through Y/N's bravado. "Watching you flirt like I'm not right there?" Y/N chuckles, the sound deep and dismissive she responds, "It's just a bit of fun, Sammy" Suddenly she standing eye level with Y/N, her lips shinning and swollen, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and pulling Y/N on the bed. Pushing her onto to her back, she slides her panties off before climbing on top of Y/N, pressing her thighs against her sides with a commanding force. "You think you're so confident" Sam challenges, "Then let's see how long you can last"
Sinking down on to Y/N's cock with a slow, deliberate motion that makes both of them gasp. Sam rocking her hips up and down back and forth, her tits moving in tandem, making Y/N squeeze her eyes shut, her mouth falling open as she tries to ward off her impending orgasm. "Look at me" Sam snaps, hand sliding up to grip Y/N's jaw "You don't get to look away, watch me ruin you" Y/N eyes flutter open landing on their connected centers. Sam's pussy was dripping all over Y/N's cock, sliding in and out of her without resistance as she rode Y/N. "I..I'll hold it" She stammers out, head dropping back the sight too much to take in. A wicked smile takes over Sam's face "You'd better..but I'm not letting you off that easy" she purrs. Y/N' arrogance has finally crumbled, her breath coming out in ragged gasps as she struggled to keep from cumming. "Sam, please--I c-" "You will" she hisses, her hips slamming down with force. "You will, or I'll leave you like this all night"
She's on the verge of cumming, her body trembling. Hanging on by a thread she called out to the girl riding her dick like she owned it. "Please..I'll do anyth-" "Anything?" Sam repeats, her voice a cruel whisper. "Then prove it. Hold it. Just for me"
Nodding Y/N eyes rollback, the way Sam's pussy is leaking all over her, the clenching, the fucking clenching it's all too much. Looking up through hazy eyes she sees Sam, head thrown back, one hand on Y/N's thigh aiding her motion and the other splayed on Y/N's abs she fucks herself into oblivion. "Is it mine?" She asks leaning down pressing her chest to Y/N's as she begins to meet her thrust for thrust. "Y-Yes Sam, my dick is all yours" Sliding her hand around Y/N's throat and kissing her so nasty it make's her toes curl Sam finally gives in. "Cum for me" And when Y/N does it never ending. Her body shudders violently as she tries to push herself deeper into Sam's pussy, moaning Sam's name like a prayer. Without a word, Y/N shifts and takes control. Flipping her onto to her stomach, Sam doesn't get a chance to think before Y/N is pushing into her from behind. Scooping her up and forcing her to face the mirror positioned just opposite of the bed.
"Look at us"Y/N growls, her voice thick with lust. "See how perfect we are together. Watch how you body responds to me." Tugging her up by the arm, Y/N forces Sam to watch herself be fucked. Sam's eyes meet their reflection in the mirror "I-I see it" She moans, her voice strained but filled with desire, "It's so good, fu-I feel you everywhere." "Good girl" Y/N murmurs in her ear, tongue licking the shell of it. "Show me how devoted you are to me, Sam" She adds, pushing a hand between Sam's shoulders causing her to fall into the pillows, creating an arch that is so beautiful Y/N could cry. "You're so deep, it's too muc-" Sam attempts, choking on a moan and throwing her hand back to stop her as Y/N changes the angle of her hips. Her eyes flash in the mirror, lips curling into a dark, satisfied smile she threads a hand in Sam's hair tugging her up. "You like it when I fuck you this, don't you? You like it when I make you watch" She asks, her voice low and demanding in Sam's ringing ears. "Yes" she whimpers, her breath hitching when Y/N begins fucking her harder, her hands clutched around the sheets as the muscles in her back and shoulders flexed under Y/N's gaze. "Then show me, Sam"
She can barely form a coherent thought, pleasure overwhelming her, she nods frantically, leaning up on her hands and keeping her back perfectly arched Sam looked over her shoulder at Y/N. Locking eyes, she begins to rock back, meeting Y/N's hard thrust each time. She yearns to give her everything, to show her just how much Sam needs Y/N, how much she craves the girl drilling into her. "Fuck, you look so good like this" Y/N groans, handing sliding up to wrap around Sam's throat, tightening just enough to make her pulse quicken. "So fuckin perfect. Mine" Her words push Sam closer to the edge, her pussy clenching around Y/N so hard she could barely move. "Relax" She whispered. But Sam can't she so close, so close she can taste it, her entire body is coiling with tension, ready to snap.
"Y/N/ I-" She attempts, her voice breaking, eyes rolling back as Y/N begins to rub her aching clit. "I'm gonna----" "Cum for me" Y/N growls, her thrusts never stopping. "Show me how much I'm yours, cum all over that fuckin pole" And she does---her body shatters, her vision blurring as she throws her head back in a silent scream as wave after wave crashes over her. Her pussy clenching even tighter around Y/N, throbbing in tune with her heartbeat. She can feel Y/N cumming inside of her and it sent her spiraling head first into another orgasm, hitting her so hard tears form in her eyes. It's too good, Sam needs it to stop but she never want to know what it feels like to not surrender herself to Y/N. She was completely hers.
For a moment, there's nothing but the sound of them breathing, the feeling Y/N's softening cock still in Sam's overly sensitive pussy, and the soft chatter of the TV in the background joining them again. Sam's heart is racing, her body still shaking from the intensity of it all, but she feels...complete. Y/N pulls out and makes her way out Sam's room and in the bathroom after a quick pee and clean up she returns to Sam who is still lying spent on the bed, eyes half lidded and barely conscious. She feels Y/N softly roll her over and begins cleaning her up, finding Sam's shirt and a fresh pair of panties she tucks her in before whispering a quick "Be right back" pulling on a hoodie and a pair of clean boxers she drops the soiled clothes in Sam's washer, starting the load and walking back too the room. Sam was now fast asleep, lips parted and slightly drooling. Y/N climbs in beside her, pulling the older close she buries her face in Sam's hair and allows sleep to take over her.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
AN: Shits about to hit the fan, it's getting too real for Sammy. It's always the lesbians breaking up before they're even together fr 🫣
Feedback is always greatly appreciated, Chapter 7 should be out on Saturday! -🕷️
#Spotify#sam carpenter x y/n#sam carpenter imagine#sam carpenter x female reader#sam carpenter#sam carpenter x you#sam carpenter smut#tara carpenter x y/n#tara carpenter y/n#tara carpenter x reader#chad meeks martin#mindy meeks martin#anika kayoko#core4#scream 2022
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“You look well, Park Jeongje-ssi.”
Jeongje tilts his head and languidly takes his seat across his most consistent, most frequent visitor.
“That’s what you already said the last time you came, Lieutenant Han.” Jeongje smirks. “I think by this time you can be honest enough to do away with the polite pleasantries and tell me straight to my face if I look like hell.”
The corner of Joowon’s mouth quirks. “You could use a haircut. And a shave.”
“What, the grown out prison look isn’t dashing on me?”
“… You did just ask me to tell you the truth.”
Jeongje laughs. Han Joowon is still honest to a fault, albeit softer and warmer around the edges—less prickly and more receptive to teasing.
Gentler.
Happier.
It’s amazing what a year can do to a person.
How it can change them.
Jeongje decides to test the limits of how much he can actually tease the younger man. “So, Lieutenant Han. How’s your dear old father?”
Joowon arches an eyebrow. “Still in prison. How’s your sweet old mother?”
Jeongje grins at the way Joowon gives it as good as he gets. It’s the one defining aspect of Joowon’s that he’s glad has never changed. “Still in prison.”
He can see the way Joowon struggles to keep his face impassive, and doesn’t miss the way Joowon clamps his lips together to fight the smile threatening to form.
A year ago, Jeongje could’ve never predicted this kind of humor as a coping mechanism in their shared trauma of having similar parents.
A year ago, Jeongje could’ve never even conceived of the notion that the one person he’ll end up having the most in common with—is Lieutenant Han Joowon.
He wonders what his therapist might think of it all. He resolves to tell her next time. He’s been talking a lot about the people of Manyang, after all.
Especially one person, in particular.
Jeongje brightens as Joowon pushes the carefully packed food containers across the table. He eagerly rummages its contents, eyes widening in delight at the sight of his favorites. The aroma is enticing, and it immediately makes his mouth water. “Jaeyi-ya’s specialties, I presume?”
It’s then that Joowon smiles, warm and sincere. “No better quality meat in the whole of Munju. Possibly even the whole of Gyeonggi-do.”
Jeongje meets Joowon’s eyes just then. There’s a pang in his heart at the realization.
Joowon is a regular at Jaeyi’s butcher shop now. The way Jeongje used to be.
Joowon, ever the profiler, must have seen something flash in Jeonge’s face just then, because Joowon’s own expression inexplicably gentles. “Yoo Jaeyi-ssi sends her apologies for once again being unable to visit.” Joowon clasps his hands together on the table and leans forward as pride—candid and genuine—colors both his face and his tone. “Her business is booming so much recently that she’s finally been able to provide her shop its much needed renovations.”
“I see,” Jeongje says quietly. “I haven’t seen it for myself just yet.”
Something in Joowon’s face falls then, and Jeongje gently shakes his head to forestall the unneeded apology already forming on Joowon’s lips.
Joowon is trying so hard, and Jeongje really can’t fault him for any of it.
“Like I said, Lieutenant Han,” Jeongje offers him a small smile. “After all this time, you can be honest with me now. You can give it to me straight if Jaeyi-ya’s still not ready to see me.”
After all, she isn’t the only one who hasn’t visited yet.
Joowon regards Jeongje thoughtfully. He has always been a man of honesty, so he doesn’t bother to offer Jeongje a comforting lie. This has always been a defining trait of his, and Jeongje is glad to see that this aspect of Joowon’s character remains intact.
There are so few people of principle left, and Jeongje doesn’t think he can handle seeing one more person close to him being corrupted by the system.
(His own mother has been enough.)
However, it seems like Joowon also believes there’s no need for unnecessary cruelty either, so much to Jeongje’s surprise, he remains quietly contemplative instead.
This kindness, this consideration for other people’s feelings—this is slowly becoming new for Han Joowon.
He’s changing, Jeongje realizes in awe.
“I’ve brought more gifts for you,” Joowon announces instead as he reaches under the table for his own package.
“You have?” Jeongje raises his eyebrows as a smile slowly creeps across his face at the newfound ammunition to tease. “With how often you visit me and bring me gifts, Lieutenant Han, it feels like you’re courting me.”
Joowon shoots him a look of mild disgust. “You’re not my type.”
“Of course I’m not,” Jeongje grins. “I figured one of your requirements for a date is someone who’s not in prison.”
“… I can take this back, you know.”
Jeongje laughs. “Give it here, Lieutenant Han, since you already came all this way.”
Joowon heaves a long-suffering sigh as he grudgingly sets the box on the table. This huffiness, too, remains amusingly the same about Han Joowon, and Jeongje will always enjoy any opportunity to annoy him.
Joowon makes it so easy after all. Jeongje imagines this is why everyone in Manyang enjoys teasing him too.
His heart clenches at the thought.
He pulls the box towards him and opens it.
He inhales sharply. For a brief moment, Jeongje forgets how to breathe.
He can feel Joowon’s gaze on him as the younger man explains. “I figured you must have run out of your stock of supplies by now.”
And because Jeongje will never, ever ask, he’s deeply, heartrendingly grateful when it’s Joowon who takes the initiative to softly add:
“Lee Dongsik-ssi helped me source the right materials, because he knows your art style the best.”
Jeongje swallows thickly as he gazes at the art set: sketchpads, pencils, charcoal, pastels, erasers, and the like. And to Jeongje’s trained eye, it all seems to be of top-grade material too, which seems like an unnecessary splurge for someone with a Lieutenant’s salary—especially because Jeongje knows the courts have currently frozen the Han family bank accounts and assets while Han Kihwan is still undergoing his appeals.
Jeongje doesn’t know what to do with the way the thought makes his chest constrict painfully, so he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.
“I—I’m not sure the guards will allow me to keep this.”
“Oh, they will.”
Jeongje’s gaze snaps up to Joowon at that. Joowon is only calmly watching him, but there’s steel in his eyes and a firm set of his lips at the surety of the declaration that Jeongje is forcefully reminded of the fact that Joowon is a Han.
There’s a quiet power emanating from Joowon that makes Jeongje thankful, and not for the first time, that Joowon has a moral compass entirely opposite that of his father’s.
Because this power of making people bend to his will—it runs in the Han family bloodline. And it seems like Joowon is no exception.
He just chooses to enact it differently.
Oddly, Jeongje finds a strange comfort in that thought: that children can turn out differently from their own parents.
He wills his hands to remain steady as he replaces the cover and sets it aside.
Joowon blinks as he follows Jeongje’s movements. He gestures at the box. “Aren’t you going to check the contents more thoroughly?”
“I trust in the quality of your taste, Lieutenant Han. You have the best taste in the whole of Munju. Possibly the whole of Gyeonggi-do. And the entirety of Seoul. And—”
“Alright, Park Jeongje-ssi, there is no need for flattery.”
Jeongje grins. “Speaking of flattery.”
He’s amused at how he seems to have completely befuddled the great Lieutenant as he brings out his own offerings and places it on the table between them. “I actually have gifts for you, too.” He hesitates for a brief moment and plunges through the explanation before he can second-guess himself. “For both of you.”
Joowon looks at him. Jeongje knows he doesn’t have to clarify who the other person is.
“The one on top is for him. The one below it is for you.”
Joowon’s hands are steadier than Jeongje’s as he pulls the used sketchbooks to himself. He meets Jeongje’s gaze once more, and Jeongje smiles at the banked curiosity he sees there, tempered only by Joowon’s respect for privacy.
This, too, is new.
Jeongje watches how Joowon is about to courteously set aside the top sketchbook and gently points out, “You can look through it too, Lieutenant Han. I don’t mind.”
There’s a tightness in Joowon’s shoulders that relaxes at that. Permission granted, Joowon acquiesces and carefully flips open the first sketchbook.
Jeongje sees the way Joowon’s eyes widen at the first page. He keeps on flipping, and his eyes keep on widening, and widening.
Suddenly awash by an insecurity that he hasn’t felt in a long time, Jeongje opens his mouth and is about to ask for Joowon’s thoughts on his work when Joowon himself beats him to it.
“These are incredible.”
Han Joowon’s defining aspect to his character has always been his unabashed and unfiltered honesty, and the quiet intensity of it knocks the breath out of Jeongje’s lungs.
“I can see why you fell in love with her,” Joowon murmurs as he slowly peruses all the pages Jeongje has painstakingly—lovingly—sketched, capturing different angles and profiles in shades of shadow and light. “Considering she is Lee Dongsik-ssi’s twin, there has never been any doubt about how beautiful Lee Yuyeon-ssi is.”
Jeongje stills, wondering if Joowon is aware of what he has just unwittingly revealed about his own heart.
This, too, is something he unexpectedly shares with Han Joowon, one that Jeongje could have never, ever predicted a year ago:
Falling in love with a Lee twin.
“I was afraid I would forget what she looked like,” Jeongje says quietly, and Joowon’s gaze drags up to meet his. He smiles at Joowon wanly, knowing that Joowon won’t ask about her—the way Jeongje won’t ask about her twin. “Ironically, my time here made me remember. My memory became sharper after I stopped all the meds.”
Something in Joowon’s gaze softens. “I’m glad.”
Not good for you, the way his mother would praise him before with her backhanded compliments.
I’m glad.
Bare honesty laced with a sincere kindness Jeongje has never been privy to, before. Han Joowon, a mere stranger just a year ago, is now genuinely happy for him.
He drops his gaze as his vision shimmers. This, too, is new.
“And then I thought,” Jeongje murmurs, “that because of me… her brother doesn’t get to have any more pictures of Yuyeonie.”
The silence settles heavily for a beat before Joowon speaks.
“The fault is not entirely your own, Park Jeongje-ssi.”
No sugarcoating, as expected. Han Joowon’s moral compass is indefatigable, and he won’t absolve Jeongje of his sins.
And yet—
Jeongje lifts his head, and sees mirrored in Joowon’s eyes the same heaviness Jeongje carries in his heart.
And yet… Han Joowon is willing to share the weight of the blame.
Even if it isn’t his to carry.
“I know this doesn’t make up for my sins even if I spent the rest of my life repenting for them.” Jeongje’s lips are trembling as he smiles sadly at Joowon. “It doesn’t matter, because this isn’t for me. This isn’t for my forgiveness.”
His gaze drops to the drawing on the open page in front of Joowon.
Lee Yuyeon, the 20-year-old bright young girl full of promise, the cherished gem of her parents and the apple of her twin brother’s eye, Manyang’s most promising future lawyer.
Jeongje’s first and last love.
Radiant, joyful, full of life. Forever untarnished in this charcoal image of her youth and happiness.
The only girl Jeongje has ever felt a love so pure for, like this.
“It’s for him. Because he deserves to see more of Yuyeonie, too.”
He looks up at Joowon.
“Dongsik-ah…” Jeongje swallows thickly. “He deserves to remember Yuyeonie like this.”
Joowon looks down at the sketchbook. His fingers skim the drawing paper, touch feather-light, as his fingers trace the outline of Yuyeon’s long hair.
Jeongje used to thread his fingers through her hair just like that, once upon a time. She would tilt her head up and close her eyes, long lashes settling on those rosy cheeks, and Jeongje would lean down and give her the kiss she’d wordlessly ask for.
He wished he had at least kissed her goodbye, that night at the deer farm, had he known it would be their last.
Joowon exhales slowly and gently closes the sketch pad. He settles it to one side.
Only one other sketchbook remains. Joowon opens it.
His hand freezes in mid-air as soon as he sees its contents.
And at that moment, Jeongje realizes how foolishly mistaken he and the rest of the people of Manyang had been for once judging Han Joowon as a soulless, cold little prince from Seoul.
Joowon slowly lowers his hand and settles it gently—lovingly—on the meticulously drawn artwork of Lee Dongsik.
Jeongje’s gaze follows Joowon’s movements as his shaking fingers trace over Dongsik’s hair, the shell of his ear, the crinkle in those eyes, the slope of his nose, the curve of his jaw, to finally linger on those plush lips as Dongsik smiles.
Jeongje hasn’t realized he’s been holding his breath. An inexplicable embarrassed warmth suddenly suffuses him; he feels strangely like a voyeur, like he isn’t supposed to witness something that should’ve been kept private.
Jeongje has never, ever seen anyone wear their heart so openly like this.
“I—” Joowon starts to say, and god damn the boy sounds so breathless. “I’ve never seen him like this.”
Jeongje stares. “What?”
Tremblingly, Joowon curls his fingers into a fist as he retracts his hand. “It must be borne out of your long history with him, to have seen him looking like this.” Joowon’s eyes are rueful when he meets Jeongje’s gaze—his smile sad. “I’ve never seen Lee Dongsik-ssi this way before.”
Jeongje looks down at his own drawing. There’s a tenderness in Dongsik’s expression that Jeongje has tried his best to capture to the best of his memory, especially because the startling image of it has seared itself onto his brain.
Thirty years of friendship, and it’s the very first time Dongsik has ever looked like that.
Jeongje drags his gaze back up at the other man. “Do you know what he’s looking at here?”
Joowon startles at the unexpected question, then shakes his head, frowning.
Han Joowon has always hated it whenever he realizes he lacks pertinent information, and it makes Jeongje gape at him in disbelief.
He doesn’t know. Han Joowon doesn’t know.
“Lieutenant Han,” Jeongje says slowly. “Dongsik-ah was looking at you.”
There’s an astounded, shell-shocked expression Joowon always has on his face when he discovers evidence that completely alters the theories of his investigation.
It’s the one he’s wearing on his face right now.
“What are you talking about?” Joowon quietly demands, his tone a strange mix of frustration and tentative hope that Jeongje can’t help but sympathize with.
It’s fascinating, really, how for a detective at the top of the game, Han Joowon has clearly missed all the clues.
“I was in love with Yuyeonie for ten years, you know.” A wistful smile touches Jeongje’s lips at the memory. “She got tired of waiting for me, so she was the one who made the first move.”
Jeongje rests his elbows on the table and leans toward Joowon. He juts his chin towards the sketchbook laid open between them.
“Her brother, unfortunately, isn’t as smart. She’s always been the brainy one of the pair.”
Joowon’s gaze flickers down. Slowly, he flips over to the next page. It’s another angle of Dongsik, this time with his head thrown back, his eyes crinkling in laughter.
The entire countenance of Joowon’s stiff posture visibly softens. Jeongje wonders if Joowon is aware of how his face mirrors the same tenderness and warmth captured in the charcoal image of the man he loves.
Jeongje knows this, because Dongsik is the same.
Because Dongsik’s eyes crinkle in happiness the same way as Yuyeon does whenever she used to look at Jeongje.
Jeongje intimately knows, more than anyone, how a Lee twin looks like when they’re in love, too.
“You, however, seem to have the brains to rival hers.”
Joowon’s eyes flits up towards him briefly in question. Jeongje smiles back at him wryly.
“You’re gonna have to do the smart thing, too.”
Joowon is quiet as he peruses each page, revealing more of Dongsik’s myriad of expressions. Like a detective examining crucial evidence, Joowon is studying each page more thoroughly, drinking every single detail.
It’s like he’s seeing Dongsik for the very first time.
Jeongje waits patiently as he watches Joowon process everything. Han Joowon always gets to the right conclusion eventually.
Joowon reaches the last page, and seeing that there isn’t anything more, closes the sketchbook.
The silence between them is heavily laden.
“I don’t think I’m as brave as her.”
Jeongje’s gaze is steady as Joowon hesitantly meets his eyes. And Jeongje could have never predicted this a year ago, for him to be the one to clearly see through all the masks:
Underneath all that brave posturing is an insecure little boy, one who has never quite felt he is good enough, after being convinced all his life that he clearly isn’t.
By his own family.
This, too, is something Jeongje understands far, far too well.
“You brought down your own father for him, Lieutenant Han,” Jeongje tells him softly, meaning it with all his heart. “You’re braver than anyone I know.”
Joowon looks at him thoughtfully for a long moment. Jeongje holds his gaze, letting the younger man look his fill, letting him take the courage he needs.
“So did you.”
Jeongje startles. Joowon tilts his head, and finally lets a gentle smile grace his lips, too.
“You brought down your own mother for him, too.”
Joowon places a hand over the sketchbook and caresses the cover knowingly. He isn’t looking at Jeongje, yet the words pierce through Jeongje’s ribs to land straight on his heart all the same.
“You love him, too.”
Jeongje has to abruptly look away. Honesty without reservation, impactful in its simplicity.
In its encompassing truth.
Han Joowon always arrives at the right conclusion eventually.
Out of nowhere, Jeongje feels fresh tears well up in his eyes, blurring his vision. “Not—”
To his horror, his voice suddenly cracks, and he inhales deeply to steady his breathing as he returns his gaze to the man in front of him.
It’s Han Joowon this time who is calmly letting himself be the anchor Jeongje needs.
“Not as well as you do.” Jeongje’s mouth trembles, his voice watery. “You love him the best.”
Han Joowon’s defining aspect to his character has always been his unabashed and unfiltered honesty. He has never seen the need to fill in silences with aimless denials or sweet lies.
So he doesn’t this time, either—and wordlessly accepts the simple truth of Jeongje’s statement.
It makes Jeongje smile.
He watches as Joowon carefully takes both sketchbooks, handling them like they’re something precious and fragile as he prepares to take them with him. He then reaches over to retrieve his own gift and slides the box in front of Jeongje once more.
“I’ve brought more coloring materials for you here,” is Joowon’s odd non-sequitur of an explanation.
Jeongje blinks. “Are you saying my drawings need more color?” Jeongje narrows his eyes as he clutches his chest in faux offense; he’s pretty sure he isn’t fooling Joowon in the slightest anyway. “Are you saying they aren’t good enough?” He teases, glad and deeply grateful to be back on familiar ground.
“Yoo Jaeyi-ssi is looking to decorate the windows of her butcher shop with flower stencils.” Joowon’s expression suddenly pinches, like he’s tasted something sour. “Something about livening up the place with color.”
The corner of Jeongje's mouth twitches. “You must be the minimalist and monochrome type. I can’t imagine you and Jaeyi-ya ever agreeing on interior design.” Jeongje grins. “Or anything else, for that matter.”
Joowon glares at him, unable to deny any of it. Jeongje laughs. “Why are you telling me this, Lieutenant Han?”
And Han Joowon, the brat that he is, only looks at Jeongje like Jeongje is dumb.
“Because she wants you to design the stencils for her.”
And for the first time in a very, very long time, Jeongje feels something painfully familiar flutter weakly inside his chest, like the quivering of a hatchling’s new wings.
And he wouldn’t have predicted a year ago for Han Joowon, of all people, to be the harbinger of that hope.
The hope for a second chance.
The hope—that he’s still welcome.
“And Lee Dongsik-ssi,” Han Joowon tells him with a smile, “wants to remind you that Lee Yuyeon-ssi’s favorites are balsam flowers.”
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will i see you again?
bill weasley x reader
synopsis: a one night stand in egypt has him reeling about what could’ve been. bill returns home to see his possibilities right in front of him
a/n: i wanted more bill x reader and there barely is any so i had to take matters into my own hands
part two
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
you stared at the bump that was protruding from under your dress. summer was all year round in egypt, but as you got bigger, your dresses got tighter and shorter, and you knew that it was time to return home and face the undying music.
a consequence of a night you knew you would never forget. he was lucky, you thought, he would never have to know your world, carry your burdens.
only thing you regretted was he would be missing out on a child’s life. his child’s life. but there was also the possibility that he would’ve never given a damn to begin with.
your lips connected and all you could taste was the bitterness of his rum that he had chugged before letting you drag him away from the tantalizing bar maids. his hand mushed into your hair, and kissed you roughly. he was all teeth, and you felt your lip in between his. it made you feel the thrill of it all as his hands roamed your body. it was dark, people were dancing around you and you could hardly feel anything but him until you realized what this was going to lead to. you were anything but someone to fuck on the dance floor like this.
you grabbed the man and pulled him close as you ducked the arms of dancers and dashed towards the bathroom. you threw the door open, seeing a woman washing her hands. it was ill lit, a neon pink decal above the mirror was your only light as you kicked the girl out with a mere gaze.
you pulled the man back onto you before slamming the door shut with the weight of his body. he moaned as you kissed him, a hand reaching for the lock, you turned it and let yourself roam his body.
he was attractive, a redhead, which was new for you but you’d try anytbing once. he had a scar on his face that made you question everything but he was a great kisser, and that was all it seemed to matter in the moment.
he didn’t bother asking your name, and nor did you, all you knew him by was- “sir!” you screamed as he fucked you against the door. you were gripping his shoulder as he was holding you. you threw your head back and the thumping got louder. he was frantically fucking you, and you felt yourself tense up as you came, moaning loudly as you shook. you felt cum trail down your leg and realized he too had came.
“fuck.” you muttered as he set you down.
the house was the same. old, creaky, dusty, hateful and wretched. but it was home. and as you set your bags down, really taking it all back in, the familiar house elf from your childhood came to greet you.
“mistress y/n.” kreacher gazed at you with squinted eyes, taking in your pregnant self, “how was your trip.” it was more of a statement rather than a question so you ignored him as he stalked away with your bags.
your father was supposed to be here, but as you gazed at the clock, you realized that you had arrived earlier than you had expected. so you grabbed your remaining bag and hauled it up the steps, following kreacher to your old room, you passed the portrait of your grandmother and the silence was suddenly filled with a shriek of disdain.
“don’t tell me you got yourself impregnated unwed! a disgrace this great house has been brought, such a disgrace, like your father!” walburga shouted, and you sneered, “i missed you too, grandmother.”
as you looked at your room, everything left in its place as the night you had left it, you realized with a sinking feeling that you weren’t a teenager anymore.
you let a hand trace down your belly, you were a mother now.
as you toured your old belongings, you came across the pictures that you had pinned poorly to your budoir, pictures of you with harry and your father, a makeshift family, you had always said. another with your old friends, cedric before he passed and cho.
a knock at the door brought you out of your thoughts and you pulled your feelings back and turned to see your father at the doorway.
you sniffled, wiping your teary eyes, “sorry, it’s the hormones.” you excused and embraced sirius. sirius chuckled warmly, “don’t worry about it, kid. im just glad your home.”
you pulled back and sirius looked down at your belly, “you too.” he talked to the baby and you laughed.
sirius grabbed your arm and pulled you into the hallway, “molly has been preparing a dinner for your return at her home.” he looked at you, “i understand if you don’t want to attend, but harry will be there.”
and now you were apparating to the burrow, a long heavy coat over you as you had failed to realize too late that no one knew of your surprise.
as you opened the door to the weasley home, nothing but the warm scent of cinnamon and honey filled your nose as you walked in. shouts and banter could be heard from somewhere in the house and all eyes were on you suddenly.
molly was practically jumping up and down as she ran to hug you. as she hugged you, you realized that your belly was bumping against her, but molly didn’t seem to notice in her joy. you had always been like a second daughter to her, coming around so often after harry had set your father free.
“i’m so happy you’re back, my darling girl!” molly kissed your forehead and she laughed joyfully. she greeted sirius with a smile, “i just know your father is so happy that you’re home, he wouldn’t stop talking about it when you wrote that you would!” you turned to your father who was now a slight shade of pink.
before you could say anything else, harry, hermione and ron all ran up to you. harry was the first to hug you, and unlike molly, he was the first to notice you were different. harry frowned as he pulled back and you exhaled. you tugged the coat off reluctantly and your bump was now in full view.
the three looked down at you with shock and you smiled sheepishly, “surprise?”
hermione didn’t care as she hugged you, screaming joyfully that she was going to be aunt.
harry and sirius exchanged a series of looks and all ron could do was stare.
“blimey, y/n, but you certainly put some weight on abroad.” he hid his shock and hermione pulled away from you with a roll of her eyes, “she’s not fat, she’s pregnant, ronald!”
you chuckled, “it’s alright. trust me i thought i was getting fat too.”
molly was busying herself in preparing the dinner so she was the last to notice your bump. yet still the loudest in her congratulations.
it seemed that everyone, your father, harry, hermione and the rest of the weasley family all made the pointed question not to ask about the father.
wouldn’t be the first time someone from the noble house of black would be a single parent. sirius was with you, and that earned you some interesting nicknames growing up.
but you and your father liked to joke that you were like zeus and athena. a mere thought turned into a child, you didn’t need a mother if you had your father.
but after he was put away, you found the much needed influence of a girl in tonks, who had done the great deed of taking you in, even if she was barely an adult herself.
and after your father had returned during your fourth year, you spent time with him until you realized that the world of war had no place for you, and you had saved yourself the rest of the despair after cedric died.
“why didn’t anyone wake me for dinner?” a voice could be heard calling down the steps. you turned to molly who smiled, “bill is home from egypt. i was assuming he was tired after traveling all day, so i let him sleep.” she mentioned and you nodded.
out of all the weasley siblings, you had only met ron, the twins, ginny and the insufferable percy. the two eldest weasley brothers had been a total mystery to you, something out of legend as you hadn’t even seen pictures.
“hurry down now, bill.” molly called out, and as he finally rounded the corner towards the table, you realized with a wave of nausea who it was.
and seemingly, he did too.
bill hadn’t bothered to properly greet his family when he came home. it would all be in due time, he excused, and made his way to his bedroom where he would continue to wallow in the sorrow.
it had been just a few months since that night but it was like she had been a siren, a woman untouchable that he only desired more of. she consumed his thoughts, his dreams, even his nightmares.
bill had to leave egypt to escape her, or at least the thought of her. but back home, it seemed to intensify even more.
all he could remember were her piercing eyes, a sight he would never forget.
as he heard clamor downstairs bill sat up and stretched. he saw fred exiting the room and he stopped him, “what’s going on?”
fred shrugged, “mum said sirius and his daughter were coming over for dinner.” bill waved a hand as his brother left and threw himself into the pillows with a yawn.
he tried to make himself comfortable but the smell of the food had snaked its way up to his room, and now all he could feel was the pain of his empty stomach.
so with a sigh, bill pulled himself together and set down to greet his family and the guests.
you gulped as the silence seemed to drag on.
“bill?” you asked and he nodded. the same man from the nightclub was standing in front of you. in a pair of sweats, ruffled hair and a cheap hoodie, he was standing there.
same facial scar, same hanging earring. the father of your child was bill weasley.
bill was astounded. hearing his name from your lips had him flown back into a muddle of daydreams. he had imagined this moment before. meeting tou again, and professing his love to you.
but the shock of seeing you with his own two eyes for the second time was enough to send him back into a slumber.
you had stood up and he had noticed it. a bulging piece of evidence from under your dress, bills mind went to all the possibilities.
what if the baby is mine? was she pregnant during and i had missed it? have i gone so crazy that i’m imagining her face on other bodies?
“between the looks of you two, i’m assuming you two know each other?” fred let out a whistle and you and bill looked at each other before answering at the same time.
“yes.”
“no.” you echoed.
fred and george both cringed and suddenly things became awkward. molly caught their hint and clapped a hand, “dinner will resume in twenty minutes. let’s all have tea in the living room!”
your father looked at you with a raised eyebrow and you shrugged slightly as he was dragged off.
bill went outside, and a cigarette appeared in his hand. he was nervous, seeing you was too much. seeing you pregnant was coma worthy, and how he was still standing was an achievement.
you followed him and stood away slightly as you realized he was smoking.
silence once again, and you cleared your throat as you moved a hand down your belly, “it’s yours.”
“what?” bill was too busy trying to focus on his cigarette and missed your comment.
you repeated, “the baby. it’s yours.”
bill looked at your belly and back at you, “i know it’s a shock. trust me, this wasn’t in my plans. but we didn’t even know each others names and i-“
bill was too busy gazing at your belly than to listen to your rant, “may i?” he held out a hand, and you stopped mid sentence to grab his hand. a reluctant step forward, you set his hand on your belly, “it’s too early to feel anything but-“
bill gasped, there it was. a small kick just on his hand. you had felt it too, and your shock was mutal.
bill tossed his cigarette and smiled as both hands grabbed your belly, “wow.” he whispered.
you looked at bill, “bill,”
bill looked at you, “y/n.”
you raised an eyebrow and bill laughed, “how could i forget the name of sirius black’s rebellious daughter who ran off into the night?”
“you knew it was me?”
bill shook his head, “i never saw a picture, i just knew of you.”
you scoffed, “i guess i could say the same thing.”
bill pulled back his hands and was now crossing them, “i understand why you kept this to yourself. a million chances and it wouldn’t be this lucky.”
you nodded, “if you don’t want to be involved that’s fine. wouldn’t be the first time i do something alone.” you looked down at your belly and held it before looking at the sun setting just overhead.
bill held out a hand, “i want to be. i want to be a father. and i want to be with you.” he was pink, a shade of embarrassment as he realized what he had said.
“really?”
bill nodded, “it might sound incredibly odd but- i just haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. i left egypt, quit my job because you were haunting me. knowing this, knowing how perfect this turned out to be makes me realize one thing.”
you raised an eyebrow, “what is it?”
bill smiled, “that you were true to your word.”
as zippers were heard being zipped, you fixed your hair. the panting of the man was heard quietly as he looked at you once more, “will i see you again?” words slurred just so slightly that you laughed.
“i hope that for your sake, you do.” you left him right after that, leaving the man to fade into the darkness just as the blasting music met your ears.
#bill weasley angst#bill weasley fluff#bill weasley smut#bill weasley imagines#bill weasley x reader#bill weasley#hogwarts imagines#hogwarts smut#hogwarts angst#hogwarts fluff#weasley x reader#ron weasley x reader#fred weasley x reader#george weasley x reader
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Happy 28th! <3 Here's my favorite fics I read this month, organized from longest to shortest. Fics with a * before them found their way into my bookmarks!
The Greatest Thing by infinitelymint (E, 163.7k)
Harry and Louis haven’t spoken since the band broke up when a dangerous combination of Niall Horan, tequila, and an ordained Elvis impersonator means that the two of them have to embark on their biggest publicity stunt to date - together.
(aka the semi-canon accidentally married in Vegas fic that has been seven years in the making)
*Own the Scars by crinkle-eyed-boo (E, 144.7k)
Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want. After an accident that nearly costs him his life, Louis' parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to face his demons. On the long and difficult road to recovery, Louis must confront the truths he’s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. Because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.
*The Night Sky Is Changing Overhead by orphan_account (E, 124k)
“Um, sorry, but I believe that’s actually mine,” Harry said a bit awkwardly, pointing at the cup.
The man huffed, slightly narrowing his blue eyes, “Nope, large Americano, dash of cream.” He held the coffee up closer to Harry and honestly, Harry knew exactly what was in the cup because it was his coffee.
“Right,” Harry slowly drawled out as if he was talking to a toddler, “Which would make that mine.”
“Look, I really don’t have time for this, I’m running late. And this,” he said before he took a sip from the cup, “Is mine.”
Harry’s jaw dropped and he held his hands out, failing them slightly, “Wha-you can’t just drink it!”
“Well I did, so, do you still want it or can I be on my way?” The man challenged.
Harry shook his head disbelievingly, “Take it, but for the record, it says Harry on it.”
The man turned the cup around and a sharp laugh came out of his mouth, “Well, shit.” He looked at Harry, a smile stretched across his face as crinkles formed next to his eyes. “Thanks, Harry.”
*Come My Love Again by softfonds (E, 110.5k)
Harry Styles is handsome, clever, and rich. At least that’s what his friends say of him. He also thinks of himself as a matchmaker in Highbury, pairing people together when he finds the time. But when the arrival of a certain gentleman flips Harry’s world on its head, he starts to question everything that was once all too familiar to him, including his relationship with his good friend, Mr. Tomlinson. An Emma AU.
Say Something by kingsofeverything (E, 105.4k)
At fifty years old and recently divorced, Omega Harry Styles isn't interested in dating. When his doctor suggests a heat and rut matching service, he signs up out of necessity. It’s the only use he has for an Alpha in his life.
Twenty-eight-year-old Alpha Louis Tomlinson aims to change that.
You've Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by auburnstargazer (E, 95.4k)
Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.
Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.
One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.
Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.
i would know you from touch alone by staybeautiful (E, 72.8k)
The Tomlinson and Cox gangs have hated each other for over forty years. Harry Styles, the grandson of Gritty Cox, was freshly back to the city after uni when, on his first night out, he punched the Tomlinson heir in the face. It shouldn’t have mattered, their gangs have done worse to each other. But all it took was one single touch to recognize your soulmate. Louis was adamant that being soulmates changed nothing, not who they were or which family they were loyal to. Or, at least, it shouldn’t have.
Sweetest Devotion by brightgolden (E, 61k)
After his divorce, all Harry wants in life is to provide a stable, loving environment for his three-year-old daughter, Evie.
Never in his wildest dreams has he ever considered that life might come with the presence of his teenage crush — Gemma’s friend from secondary school, Louis Tomlinson.
Luckily, Harry isn’t still pining over him.
Or so he thought.
I'll put a spell on You by cc_horan28, Elmeiko88 (E, 56.2k)
Harry is a witch with half a cat's head tattooed on his chest who is desperate to find what he misses most.
Zayn is a lonely guardian who wouldn't say no to finding the dog of his life.
Louis is a cat who doesn't like... Cats. And who may have other problems of his own to deal with.
Niall is a... Well Niall...
And oh, look, Liam is a golden retriever...
Latching Onto You by reminiscingintherain (T, 34.3k)
The one where Louis wants to book Harry Styles to perform at his best friends' wedding.
Get Him Back by softfonds (E, 17.3k)
After finding out his husband was unfaithful, Harry does one thing that makes him feel good again. But it's up in the air if that one thing will stay.
Heat and Greet by HoldingOntoChaos (12.4k)
Harry and Louis are co-workers who are excited to represent the company they work for and do an important presentation at a week-long conference in Yosemite. It's just their luck that Harry slips into heat while there.
Panicked at the thought of missing the presentation, Harry asks Louis to help him through it. And how could Louis deny the omega he's been dreaming about since they met?
Necessities of Nesting by haztobegood (G, 5.2k)
“I know this is a sensitive topic and you probably don’t want to talk about your nest with me. But I have a friend that teaches nesting classes. Maybe they could help.”
“So you agree: my nest sucks and I’m a shit omega.”
Special Instructions by haztobegood (T, 2.2k, Zouis)
He didn’t mean for the drawings to become a thing. But they have. Every Tuesday night around eight o’clock, a take out order from Louis T. appears. Each order has new special instructions, requesting some change to the carefully curated dishes that Zayn has concocted. And every Tuesday night, Zayn doodles a response to those special instructions.
I'd Choose You Over Sleep by homosociallyyours (G, 2.1k)
If there's one thing Louis values, it's a bit of sleeping in on the weekends. There's very little she'll let come between her and those few precious hours of the day.
Harry might just make her shift her priorities. At least a little.
Carry The One by yeah_alright (T, 100)
Five times Louis carries her best friend and one time Harry carries the love of her life.
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❀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒❀
Stu Macher x Nerdy-male-reader
Stu is a very pushy boyfriend, but this time, he's pushed his fucking luck and crossed a line.
Warnings: Angst, death, slight gore, multiple mentions of SA, arguing, contact me if I need to add more.
Proshippers, Comshippers DNI
It wasn't hard making friends when it came to you. Yeah, you were a considerably nerdy guy who preferred to stay home and watch movies and read, and you certainly weren't some dashing Adonis who had a way with words, but you had a certain style, a strange charisma, that attracted people to you.
It's how you met, or, as people call it, "bagged" your boyfriend, Stu. He was a pretty fun guy. Always optimistic, and down to just about anything. The issue with him was boundaries. He had a bad habit of trying to push past yours.
Like now, for example. Throwing on some old orange flannel he'd given you as a gift, tightening the belt on your light boot cut jeans to with mild irritation to get ready for one of Stu's parties.
You hated parties. He knew this, but somehow, he always managed to manipulate you into going. With his pouty lips, his cartoonishly sad voices, and his puppy eyes, there was almost nothing he couldn't get you to do for him.
You knew this, and you never did much to resist. Cognitive dissonance, really.
"I don't know what you see in that clown." Your friend, and Stu's number one hater, Clyde scolds you, standing in the doorway of your bedroom as you get dressed. "It's not for you to see. It's for me to see. That's why he's my boyfriend." You joke, tying your shoes.
"I don't trust him, dude. He doesn't really respect you." He leans against the doorframe. "He respects me." You retort, standing up. "Until he doesnt get what he wants." Clyde raises an eyebrow. "I don't need you to be my dating coach."
"I'm not trying to be your dating coach, I'm trying to be your friend. And as your friend, I'm supposed to be supportive and honest with you. I've been supportive already, and now it's time to be honest. He's not good for you. He's slowly but surely pushing your boundaries and one of these days he's gonna convince you to do something you REALLY don't wanna do." Clyde sits up as you walk past him and out of your room.
"☆☆☆, I'm serious," he follows behind you, "the party may seem like a small inconvenience, but he's only doing small things first to test your layers."
You grab your car keys, ignoring his words. "You know, I don't need this right now." You turn around. "No, ☆☆☆. You need this a lot more than you think." Clydes eyes squint with anticipation. "I'll go with you." He offers. "To third wheel my date?" You tease him.
"Oh, puh-lease. It's a party. He'll never suspect me anyway. I'll just... keep my distance. But I'm not letting you go alone to some drug infested fuckfest full of college boys with little to no morals so he can spike your drink and let God knows who do God knows what to you." He stands in front of the door.
You wince at his words. "Yikes, Clyde. I get being concerned but you're getting too comfortable with these accusations."
"You're right, you're right. I went too far. But still, just let me go with you." Clyde begs. You sigh. "Get in the car and don't say another word about him." He nods in compliance as you both walk out, locking the door behind you.
You fold your arms as you walk past all the pre-inebriated. "Ugh, the party started twenty minutes ago and these people are already high as a kite." He pouts.
"POOKIE!" Stu yells out, tackling you with a hug that you don't return as your arms are folded. "Seriously, Stu?" You raise a brow.
"Don't be such a downer, honeybun. It's a par-tayyy. You need to let loose." He boops your nose. "Hey, Clyde." He says flatly, rubbing a hand across his face. Clyde frowns. "The fuck off me." He swats his hands. "Youch, Clyde. Still sore because I asked first?"
"Asked what first?" You ask, Clyde looking ready to burst. "Come onnn. I wanna show you somethin'." He pulls you towards the stares. "But, Clyde–" "Clyyyyde can wait." He kisses your forehead, pulling you along up the stairs.
Clyde pouts as he takes you away, struggling to hold back frustration as he knew what was about to go down. Stu didn't deserve you. He storms past some unlucky lady, causing her to slightly spill her drink as he slides into the garage.
He grabs a beer out of the fridge, bringing it to his mouth and slurping it down with only a quarter of his usual manners. "Fuck!" He exclaims, throwing the glass down and watching it shatter and fizz with the beer. It wasn't fair. He's wanted you so long. He's respectful, supportive, he adores you. And you choose some skeezer like Stu.
And just when he thought his luck couldn't get any worse, his phone rang. With a huff, he answers. "Yeah?"
Stu presses you against the bathroom sink, standing crotch to crotch against you as he tugged at your belt. You put a hand on his chest, pushing him back with what little energy you had, your half empty cup of liquor sitting on the sink. "What's the problem?" He asks, now slightly bothered by your resistance.
"You're going too fast." "I'll slow down, baby." "No, I mean us– this relationship– I don't think we're this far yet." "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Stu, I–" your heart drops at the sound of a man screaming. You push him a way and back into the wall, running out of the bedroom. Scurrying down the stairs as you fix your pants, your startled by what you see.
Clyde stumbles into the living room, swatting his left hand, the right clenching his heart as blood spilled past it. He gargled incoherently, falling limp onto the couch. "Clyde!" You shriek, running down to his side.
"Clyde, buddy, talk to me." You shake him, pulling his hand away to see the myriad of stab wounds to his chest. You scoff in shock, your breath catching in your throat to see his eyes empty, lifeless. "What the fuck?!" You curse, backing away. "Clyde!!!"
You lay on your side in your bed. Tears are streaming down your face. It's been hours, but it feels like days have passed. You tremble quietly, sniffling. God, you should've listened to him.
Your phone rings. You don't want to answer. You don't want to live. Nothing even had purpose anymore. Your best friend, gone without a goodbye, and someone had the nerve to be calling you, as if they wouldn't have plenty more time to talk.
You snatch it off the line.
"☆☆☆, baby–" "No!" You interrupt Stu, fury filling you in an instant as you recognize his voice. "This is all your fault, damn it. I told you I didn't like parties! You always do this to me! You never respect my boundaries, man!"
"..I... I do respect you.." "No, you don't! Just last night, I had to force you off of me in the bathroom and when I told you I wasn't comfortable, you KEPT. PUSHING! WHO KNOWS WHAT YOU WOULDVE DONE HAD I BEEN ANY DRUNKER?!"
"Aww, dude, honey, you know I would...I would never do anything like that to you..." he sounds so genuinely bad, almost hurt by your words.
"Clyde is dead, Stuart! He's dead! He ain't coming back!"
"..I know.." "No, you DON'T. You don't know ANYTHING! THE ONLY THING YOU KNOW IS TO BEG AND PUSH TIL YOU GET WHAT YOU WANT!"
"I DIDN'T KILL CLYDE!" "I DON'T KNOW THAT!"
The line goes quiet, and the only thing you can hear is the static.
" What are you trying to say, ☆☆☆?" "I'm breaking up with you. I can't do this with you anymore. I can't keep begging you for basic respect in this relationship. I'm tired and I'm scared and for all I know, you could've done this."
"No, baby, no. Please, no. Please, don't do this." His firm words turn into pleading whimpers. "I'm sorry, but I've made my decision." You hang up the phone. And Stu stands there, the line buzzing as tears run down his face.
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#☆nova's tears#male reader#x male reader#stu macher#angst#stu x reader#stu macher x reader#stu macher x male reader#scream angst#ghostface#ghostface angst#horror fandom#horror movies#90s horror#matthew lillard#death
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