#to be honest I barely had the time to write this between work and moving rooms and driving my sister around for shopping and what not
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termagax · 2 days ago
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25- Write about your ship bathing or swimming together 🐟🪝💕
"Come on, you reek."
"I do not."
"This whole place smells like a whales arse"
"Smelled like that before we got here."
The protest was half-hearted, an irritated grumble as they let him scoop them out of the bed anyways. The fish had spent most of the day asleep, whinging about being sore, which meant it was as easy as it'd ever be to get them to clean up a little.
They relaxed a bit when Roadhog slid into the tub behind them. Their current hideout between jobs was some pricks idyllic vacation home in the mountains. Rat had disabled the alarm and they'd already spent the better part of the week enjoying the luxuries of the wealthy, one of which happened to be absurdly massive bathtubs.
They had a lot of mass between the two of them, so it wasn't too often that there was ever really room for the both of them to bathe comfortably. Even still, the fish's ridiculous tail had to drape over the far edge so they could properly stretch out.
"I think I smell nice," they said, leaning back into his stomach as hot water filled the tub.
"You don't," he said with a snort. They jabbed him in the side with a bony elbow. He just laughed.
If he was being honest, most of the time they didn't smell awful. They had a naturally fishy sort of thing going on, briney and musty, but like a wide, swampy river more than a bait shop. Not the best, but he'd developed a taste for it that made it seem... sweet, almost. Homey, if he was feeling sappy.
Unfortunately it was only as pleasant as it was understated. They were the most resistant of the trio to ever really 'clean up' and as the weeks wore on it began to show - and the more time they spent away from Oz, the more the nose-blindness of the disgusting wasteland faded away and Roadhog found himself with less and less tolerance for their preferred level of filth.
"Turn the water off," they said. They didn't move to do so themselves.
"It's not full." It was barely halfway, just covering their lap.
"I don't like it full."
"You're a fish. You love water."
"Not this water," they said.
"Not radioactive enough for you?"
"It's freshwater, dumb fuck," they kicked the faucet to punctuate. "It's different."
"Mmm," the smell of an incoming rant was thicker than the seaweed stink.
"Its awful, it's like trying to breathe in fucking smoke, and it tastes weird, and I get all dried out and itchy for days afterwards and it's not like I can just pop out for a swim or anything after because you cunts dragged me away from my perfectly good ocean so we can run from the cops in more scenic locations, like this absolute charmer of a fucking ice factory." They gestured at the massive, fancy windows, where a picturesque snow was falling over a landscape that looked straight from a christmas card.
"Mhm." He grabbed one of the fancy-pants soaps and lathered it up, manuvering them while they complained so he could scrub down their back. He pressed down a little harder than strictly neccessary, paying special attention to the spots they always said were sore.
He wasn't really listening as they bitched about soap in their gills and scales that shed everywhere and how much they hated flowery smells. He'd heard it all before. They could whine all they wanted, really, because there was nothing so satisfying as watching their dull, dusty scales turn all shiny, a shimmery blue-green-pink that flowed in the light.
So he stuck to his task, working down their back, melting the tense cables of muscle down smooth as they puttered on, eventually fading out into an indistinct grumble and vague, frustrated gesture.
"Babe," they complained, rolling their shoulders into his hands. "I'm trying to gripe here."
"I'm not stopping you," he said with a chuckle. They groaned, sinking into the water and rearranging themself in the tub, settling on the other side so they could glare at him more effectively. The ire was less convincing when they stuck a leg up into his face.
He rolled his eyes and complied, continuing the soapy massage, feeling extremely smug as their irritation drained away.They rested their head against their tail, expression soft as they watched him. He could never tell what they were thinking. His own face always gave him away and they could read him like a hand of cards, but he never had been able to see what was behind those eyes when they stared at him like that, intense but unfocused all at once. That's probably why the question caught him so off guard.
"Why are you so nice to me?"
He faltered for a second.
"I'm not." Deflecting seemed safest. Those eyes left his hands, staring straight up at him now.
"You don't even like me."
"Mmm." He didn't really say anything. He kept his eyes on their legs.
"You don't. You don't like anything about me." They kicked his chest with the leg he wasn't holding. He grabbed them by the shin before they could do it again.
A glance spared to their face showed a much more comprehensible look. That stupid, smug little smirk with their teeth poking out even more than usual, the kind that pushed up their eyes and flared out their fins. Whatever had shadowed them earlier had been pushed aside for this - an invitation to play.
"I don't," he conceded. He couldn't help but grin, though. He brought a foot to his face, planted a kiss right on their bony ankle. "You whine about everything."
Their eyes sparkled. He dragged them closer, away from the edge of the tub until their legs were straddling him and he could hold them by the hips. They had to scramble to stay upright.
"You're a lazy drunk." A kiss to the inside of one knee.
"You're a pervert." Leaning over to kiss their chest, licking into a gill for good measure.
"You're obnoxious - too clingy." A kiss to their shoulder.
"You're disgusting, rude, ugly, slimy, weirdo." A trail of kisses up their neck punctuating each little insult.
"And," He looked right in their eyes, forehead pressed into theirs. He could feel the gentle purr-like rumble in their chest. "You fucking smell."
The tension broke like glass on brick, their barking laugh loud enough to make him recoil. Still, the laugh was contagious, and he chuckled as they wrapped their arms around his head, pulling him down for a proper kiss.
He payed them back by dunking their head under the water.
They shot back up, betrayed and sputtering an awful lot for someone who could breathe under there. He just laughed and lathered his hands with shampoo, pulling them close again while they muttered obsceneties and threats of murder.
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forestshadow-wolf · 2 months ago
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Happy christmas! @maicandy
This was supposed to be like 1.5k words turned into 3.4k
No warnings. A bit of action, nothing graphic. It should be a fun read (I hope)
Ao3 link
“A’righ’, ya muppet, get up.” Price chuckled, “I signed it fifteen minutes ago, when you handed it to me.”
“Fift- then wha’ th’ fuck am I on th’ floor for!” Soap climbed up on aching knees, Price looked like he was in pain with how ard he was holding in his laugh.
“Wanted to see how far you’d go.” he shrugged.
“Oh, up yer arse wi’ it, ya bloody baw.” Soap scowled, adding, “itsnae funny.” when Price couldn’t contain his boisterous laughter any longer. He slumped into the chair he should have been sitting in, and pointedly did not sulk. It was about as funny as a Scot dating a Brit. It wasn’t funny. It wasn’t.
“Oh don’t sulk, Soap, I was never gonna send him to Siberia in December.”
Soap slumped harder in his seat, making it a point to not look at Price. He was mad at him. It was harder to hold his frown when the man was gleefully nudging him with the toe of his boot. Okay it was a little funny. Not that he would ever admit that to the man.
— — —
“How are you gonna jus’ sit there!” soap threw his arms up in exasperation, “he ‘ad me on my knees, an’ you’re laughing!” he was starfished across Ghost’s bed while the man worked on reports at his desk. Laughing at him. Not exactly routinely… okay it was pretty much standard.
“You won’t even tell me what you were there for, why would I help you.” Ghost shoots back at him smoothly. Bastard. 
“Wha! You dinnae need to kno’, yoo’re just supposed to defend my honor.” Soap cried in faux-offense.
“ ‘Defend your honor’.” Ghost parrots as he sits back in his chair, he hums thoughtfully as he turns to look at soap, “for all I know you were getting in trouble for taking Price’s cigars last week. I don’t think that’s an honor even I can defend.” Ghost chuckled, catching the pillow Soap threw at his head. Soap was going to say something else when Ghost’s phone rang. taking it out of his pocket, “it’s Price.” he said before answering.
“Yeah, he’s here.” Price’s voice was loud enough to hear, but not loud enough to make out what he was saying, so Soap was only privy to a one-sided conversation. “No, not terribly. You ask me that after you ask if soap’s here?” Ghost bolstered, “mmmh not likely. And you mettle too much.” there was a pause that Price’s muffled voice filled. “Did you call on business, or just to poke at me?” Soap couldn’t tell if it was annoyance or deflection, but if it was Price on the other end it was all in good nature. “But it’s christmas. Soap has-” price, evidently, cut him off, “Fine.”, Ghost hung up with a sigh. “Price needs us geared up and on the tarmac in fifteen.”
— — —
They were kitted up and waiting on the tarmac faster than you could say ‘Two Clicks and a Cracker’, fortunately Price didn’t make them wait too long. He met them with a cigar, and two folders tucked under an arm.
“New mission.” he holds out the folders for them to take, “and before you start, I did my best, but without either of you putting in leave there’s not much I can do. But,” Price sighed. “I pulled some strings. You two are going to Chile for the next three weeks. We had a team pass through a few months ago, they had to crash at a safehouse for a few days. They sent in a report of broken equipment and utilities. It needs to be cleaned, as well as restocked.” Soap flipped open his folder, the list of broken shit was longer than it reasonably should be, in soap’s opinion. “Now, as your directive is not a highest priority you will have a scheduled exfil for January second at fifteen hundred local time. With what remaining time you have between infil and exfil, you will keep an eye on everything to make sure it’s running smoothly. You’ll have quite a bit of time on your hands, so just chill out and don’t break anything, I don’t want to have to go back to fix anything any time soon. Capisce?”
“Yes sir.” Soap flipped his folder closed, they had a long list to do, but nothing they can’t handle. Ghost was still studying the photos in his folder, as thorough as ever. “When do we-”
“Are these bullet holes?” Ghost cut him off, holding up one of the photos.
“Well it’s a military safehouse, what do you expect?” price said, unworried.
“For them to not break the safehouse.” Ghost deadpanned. Which to his credit, yeah that was usually what was expected. “Was there contact, or were they just dicking around?”
“The reports say there was brief contact, but all hostiles were neutralized.”
“Which could mean exactly nothing in this line of work.”
“It’s been months, Ghost, you’re always so suspicious.”
“It pays to be a skeptic sometimes.”
“Just take the free vacation, Ghost.” Price exasperated.
“Since when do I take vacations?”
“Since now.” Soap jumped in, he wasn’t much one for sand, but he wasn’t complaining as long as they weren’t sent for snow. Plus, a little birdie told him Ghost loved the beach. Ghost whipped his head to him, soap watched his eyes look him up and down.
“Soap hates the beach.” Ghost turned to Price. Soap wasn’t sure when or where he got that information, but it was Ghost, so he probably had a way.
“Nae, the beach is fine, Ghost. When do we leave?”
“Now. Nik is loading up your supplies in hanger two.” Price handed Ghost a card, and an envelope. “Money for anything else you might need.” he paused, “do not spend it on porn.” he said with humor in his eyes.
“What if it’s really important though?”
“If it was, I’d have already bought it myself.” Price walked them over to the hanger where Nikoli was waiting, and saw them off.
— — —
The human body isn’t meant to sit in the back of a cargo plane for twelve hours straight, though he’s had worse on cramped commercial flights, so he’s only allowed to complain a little bit.
Nikoli helped them unload, and then he was back in the air headed for home within an hour and a half.
When they finally shuffled all their things to the door and opened it up. The place was a mess. Soap stepped inside and just dropped his bag on the floor while he took it all in. It was like a frat house hurricane swept in, trashed everything, and left. Ghost pushed in beside him and all but froze.
“Well… looks like we got some work to do.”
“Steamin’ jesus, what did they do?” there was trash and takeout boxes everywhere, cans of beer to go along, and soap kicked probably a dozen shell casings just walking further into the living room. He’d seen the pictures, but he didn’t think it’d be this bad.
“C’mon help me get the rest of the stuff inside. We’ll deal with it tomorrow.” Ghost broke from their stupor, turning out the door.
It took a little longer without the help of a third person, but by the time they were finished they had stripped a few layers in the heat, and the sun was just beginning to set. They’d both stripped their kits, Ghost the mask and hoodie as well, Soap himself had stripped his own shirt off as well. 
“Go get a shirt.” Ghost instructed, pulling out a face mask from his bag, and slipping the card into his pocket. “We gotta head to the store for dinner.” Soap tugged his shirt on as Ghost spoke.
— — —
The following two weeks were spent sweeping and cleaning, and fixing whatever they could find that was broken. Which included but was jot at all limited to, a broken water heater, A drippy shower, a leaky sink, a toilet that didn't flush all the way, and the team that was here last had left a broken down humvee around that back which Soap had taken to taking apart to fix.
But aside from that Soap didn't think they'd get all the shell casings given a whole season. And in the most random of places too. Obviously the living room, but also under the bottom cabinets In the kitchen along the crown moulding, behind the doors of just about every room, there were a few behind the toilet and in the bathtub, he even found one in the bed that first night.
Price and Laswell kept in communication, calling them every few days just to make sure everything was running smoothly, and to ask if they were in need of any extra parts that hadn’t been sent. As predicted everything was running smooth as butter, they updated them on what they were able to fix, and what was taking a bit more time. Soap had gotten the humvee running before the end of the first week, and road worthy by the second, albeit missing a few parts. The windshield was cracked to shit, and the metal top had been taken off in place of a canvas one, but it was solid. It was smooth until Laswell called one morning without Price.
“Soap. Ghost.” Laswell’s voice came through the phone’s speaker.
“Laswell. Is Price there? This isn’t a scheduled meeting.” Soap answered.
“On his way. Where’s Ghost?”
“In the shower. I assume something’s come up.”
“Local law enforcement tells me you have hostels inbound, but they won’t come near it with a ten foot pole. I’ve sent Price and Gaz your way, but they won’t get to you in time.” Laswell informed. That wasn’t exactly the news he wanted to hear.
“Do we know how many?”
“Last time anyone was at your location, it was a team of five. I’d hazard a guess at two dozen.” seems a bit overkill to him, but who’s he to say.
“How long do we have?”
“Six, maybe eight hours.” okay not as bad as it could be.
“Aye, I’ll let Ghost know. And Laswell?”
“Yeah, Soap?”
“We’re gonna break a lot of shit. And I don’t want to fix it.”
“I’ll get it taken care of.”
“Thanks, Laswell.”
“Merry Christmas. I’ll see you back at base, Sergeant.” she cuts the line. And it was only after a moment of heavy contemplation that Soap realized it was christmas day. And he hadn’t even gotten Ghost anything.
Soap could still hear the shower running, it would likely be another while before Ghost finished. He was tempted to join him, but he knew himself well enough to know that he shouldn’t get distracted.
— — —
It must have been a half hour later when Ghost came and sat on the sand with him, wrapping himself around soap, legs bracketing around him. They’d spent quite a good amount of time on this beach. It was a private spot, the water washed up a dozen feet from the house at high tide, and the treeline began right where the steps met the sand. And he found, he didn’t mind finding sand in all the unholy places quite so much when Ghost was involved.
“Laswell said we have incoming.” soap muttered softly as Ghost kissed up his shoulder to the nape of his neck, he could feel still-damp hair brush over his neck and cheek, but he leaned into it instead of pulling away;  like he probably should have.
“But we have time?” Ghost pressed his face into the back of his neck, hugging soap closer to him.
“Beaches aren’t so bad.” he hums. It’s answer enough.
“When’d you decide that?” Ghost mumbled into his skin.
“Just now.”
“Hmm I like the beach too.” Ghost said after a moment of contemplation. And Soap wanted to stay there for eternity, but they had five hours to prepare and they needed to go to the store. Ghost’s arms wrapped tighter around his middle. Maybe they could say for a few more minutes.
— — —
“You’re flooding the sink?” a quick trip to the store, which consisted mostly of string and snacks, had them back at the house within an hour. This was the last thing in order after setting up the rest of his Home Alone traps. They had probably just under an hour, and now Ghost was questioning his decisions while he was checking and loading their firearms and eating Soap’s gummy peach rings. That he teased Soap about getting.
“Obviously. Nobody wants to see a flooded sink. Whether it’s yours or not.” Soap rolled his eyes, shoving more cloth and sand down the drain. He very specifically kept his eyes away from the cabinet above the microwave, there was no reason for him to look there. truely. “Those are my peach rings, by the way.” he didn’t really care, they were mostly for Ghost anyway.
“Mmh, obviously.” Ghost said around a gummy as though it wasn’t obvious. “What’s that mean for the dumber of us?”
“A flooded sink is never good. Mean’s it’s connected to something, or something’s gone wrong. Plus water on the floor means they can’t sneak, and they leave tracks. If anything it draws their attention for a second, and that’s a second more for us”
“Smart.”
— — —
“Soap two vans just pulled up.” Ghost’s voice came through their comm line,  the flora around the house wasn’t incredibly dense, but it was enough that it made Ghost difficult to spot if you didn’t know to look for the crook of branches twelve feet up. Soap only knew because he helped him up there.
“Think they’ll check the bathroom or the bedroom first?” He was precariously crouched barefoot behind the kitchen wall, just barely out of sight if they peeked in at the sink, water from the sink licked at his toes. Armed only with a knife, a pistol, and an extra magazine. If he played his moves right, they wouldn’t see him until it was, hopefully, too late.
“I reckon they’ll split up, ‘s what I’d do.” soap could hear boots stomping up the two stairs to the front door.
The door slammed open just before Soap could respond. Almost immediately the rope tied to the door handle pulled taut, and the shotgun sprayed buckshot as the trigger compressed. He heard a body hit the ground, followed by shouting and sounds of panic. He heard more soldiers storm up the wooden stairs, whoever stepped through the threshold first pulled the tripwire. It pulled the pin on the grenade.
“Beautiful, Johnny, I count eighteen, down to fifteen. I’m heading to the back, arm the backdoor when you're out, keep it loud.���
The remaining soldiers continued with more caution. There was a pause, then uneasy shuffling. More footsteps entered into the house. Soap could feel the tension as they split up. The water around his feet rippled as one of the soldiers stepped into the water by the sink. There was a nook in the kitchen that created a blindspot from outside of the kitchen, he stepped into view, and sunk his knife into the throat, and gently lowered him to the ground before he even had a chance to react. Four down, fourteen to go.
Almost simultaneously the shotgun in the bathroom went off, and shouting and gunshots came from the bedroom, letting him know they tripped the flare in the closet he’d used as a distraction. That was Soap’s cue. He whipped out of the kitchen, snatching up the shotgun that took out that first soldier. With one more shot in it, he aimed at the second soldier in the bathroom, and shot. He went down like a ton of bricks. Six down, twelve to go. This is where it gets hot. He unholstered his pistol without waiting to watch. Four shots. Two bodies. He ducked behind the couch. They all aimed at him, he was outnumbered, but they didn’t know the space, and he was two steps from the back door.
“Ghost, I need out.”
“Copy.” Half a second later the glass at his back splintered, and one of the soldiers fell over dead. And the rest scattered for cover like cockroaches from a light. Nine down, nine to go.
Soap didn’t wait, he flew out the door, arming it as it closed behind him. Ghost met him as soon as his foot touched sand. And there wasn’t a second to spare when the door flew open behind them. They split and ran down the beach, careful where they stepped.
“Soap,” Ghost called, waiting for a response.
“Ghost.”
“wanna see something sexy.” and of-fucking-course he did.
“You know I do.” And not a moment later did he hear a boom accompanied by the sand under his feet rattling, and he could see sand and bodies flying. Soap let out an overexaggerated moan. Too which he got a chuckle from Ghost that he could hear the eye roll through. He will be salty that Ghost got to set off the first sandy explosive later. Eleven down, seven to go.
Soap could hear the two soldiers behind him, he wide-stepped over a small rock in the sand, and detonated the explosive buried right below in two paces. The shock sent him off balance, but he caught himself before he fell. Thirteen down, five to go. And he was out of tricks. He had three more after him, and lead flying by his head.
Pinwheeling around a bloody large boulder he deaded back the way Ghost was headed, he could see Ghost had been able to do just the same. Trust. Ghost had two on him. He didn’t stop running as he shot.
The first one went wide. The one after had a body falling, and the one after that had the other soldier stumbling. He couldn’t tell which bullets flying by his head were Ghost’s and which were enemies’, but somehow, some miracle, none of them hit him.
— — —
He frowned as he opened the cabinet above the microwave, it had been bullet ridden, but somehow he’d still hoped the little skeleton ghost plush he’s bought would have remained untouched. It wasn’t so. Stuffing fell out before he even opened the cabinet all the way, and what greeted him when he did was a very sad, very stuffingless once-was plush. He pulled it out with a frown anyway.
He turned to toss it in the trash, and promptly had a heart attack when he turned around and Ghost was right there. He clutched the sad bit of fabric to his chest, and panted dramatically.
“Christ, Ghost, scared me half to death.”
“I’d hope not.” Ghost smiled. “What’s that?” soap held out his was-gift.
“Oh. uh merry christmas?” he felt his face pull in disappointment, “I was hoping that it would somehow stay safe, but…”
“Lemme see.” Ghost held out his hand for the thing. “Eh he’s not so bad. Just needs a bit of stitching and stuffing, and he’ll be right as rain.” he smiled at him. Then, impossibly, his face brightened further, “wait right here.” and then Ghost was out of the kitchen.
Soap stayed put like instructed. Christ they’d made a right proper mess of this safe house. Water everywhere, shell casings, damage to everything. Price was going to throw a fit when he saw it.
“Okay close your eyes and hold out your hands.” Ghost said before he walked in. soap did as told. Something was placed in his hands, “okay open.”
It was a leather bound Journal, with his initials engraved into the front. He flipped open the cover to see that ‘SR’ had been scratched into the inner surface, along with a polaroid of Ghost, and a sleeping him in bed.
“I noticed you were getting to the end of yours.”
There were so many things Soap wanted to say. That he loved it, he loved him, that it was the best thing he’s ever been gifted, that it was a privilege to get this, that he was honored that Ghost would put their names together, that Ghost would let him see his face. He settled for kissing him instead.
— — —
There wasn’t much for Price and Gaz to do when they landed, except help pack. And Soap and Ghost left for base with them. There wasn’t much they could salvage without another team and more tools and parts. And what could be done, wasn’t worth the effort after they just fixed it. So home they went.
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simpjaes · 1 month ago
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✘ WIP DIARY ── LAST NIGHT, I READ YOUR DIARY. (p.sh) ✘
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Sunghoon has been trying be everything you need since your mother passed. A father, a friend, a therapist. You never really understood what your mother saw in him in the first place, if you’re being honest. He’s awkward, quiet, and typically used to keep to himself up until now. You’re impressed with his efforts by the time you’re entering into your senior year of college, though his entire demeanor towards you seems to have changed.  or the one where your step-father grows obsessed with you minute by minute. 
── step-dad /weirdo park sunghoon x afab reader  
── minors dni
── tags: sunghoon is in his 30s, reader is in her 20s so, age gap, step-cest, heartbreak, obsession, manipulation, coercion, stockholm syndrome-ish, fluff if he manipulates you as a reader lmfao, angst, smut. don't read this if you are easily triggered. ── side characters: heeseung as reader's ex boyfriend, jay as reader's closest friend
── !WARNINGS!: this work contains non-con, dub-con, and stalking behavior. your mom isn’t alive in this fic. warnings will be updated as i write.
── a/n: this one is gonna be a wild ride, that's all i gotta say.
due to safety concerns regarding the nature of this fic, it will be posted on patreon, ao3, and wattpad (links on pinned). i'm not sure about posting it on tumblr because i do genuinely expect to be bullied off the platform.
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LAST UPDATED: 2.1.25
⨯ est wordcount: 20k+ ⨯ current wordcount: 8k ⨯ est release date: tbd ⨯ taglist: my tag list is now closed due to the length.
playlist ⨯ recommended song: last night i read your diary - gürl She's got me down on my knees I beg, I beg, I, I beg, I beg, please! I want it more than I need And I need it like I need to breathe Like I'm losing my- Choke.
PREVIEW (3.1k):
no warnings apply to the preview, it's just the first couple of thousand words for this fic. aka, the intro and the set up for what will inevitably happen later:
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Your first heartbreak is meant to be painful, but this? This is more painful than you could have ever imagined. 
Heeseung was one of your only constants in life. From childhood to high school it’s like he was there more than your own mother was, and certainly more than your own father. Even when she passed, Heeseung was the one who held you through it, he’s the one who made you smile again, he’s the one who made you feel like it was okay to heal and keep going. 
It’s the fact that it was a mutual break up that hurts the most because deep down, you couldn’t see yourself without him. Yet, still, you willingly watched him hop on the plane with a short kiss and long goodbye. It felt so final to you. You could have handled a long distance relationship, truly. But Heeseung didn’t want that. He wanted to explore the world, he wanted to try new things, be with new people. 
Do things without you clinging to him all the time. 
In a way, you understand that. After all, you’re the only girl he had ever been with up until now. Senior year of college. You think you knew your relationship was coming to an end by the time he announced he was going to be studying abroad for his final year without ever once even telling you he was applying to do so. 
So, yeah, it was mutual solely because you want him to be happy and he’s made it clear that he believes that can only happen without you. Such is life. Painful, painful fucking life.  
Just last year when your mother passed, you nearly dropped out and Heeseung had been your rock to make it through class after class with a grade barely high enough to pass. You’re certain some of your professors took pity on you and raised your grade just enough to move forward. You’ll forever thank them for recognizing how hard you were trying. But now? Without your mother, without Heeseung, you’re at a loss.
And there’s a difference between loneliness and isolation, you think. Loneliness to you always hits hard during small spaces in your day, like when you’d get into Heeseung’s car and he would close your door for you. The silence always hurt your ears while he was still making his way around the car to the driver’s seat. A shallow loneliness that you could feel right at the top of your gut, like it was squeezing inside of you and making you lose your appetite. Solely because that silence reminded you of what you always had, a lack of loneliness because of him.
But then there’s isolation. Where it feels forced upon you by other people. Your mother fucking died, Heeseung fucking left, and now you’re just here expected to wake up like you always do, go to class, study hard, sleep well, when the reality of it is– you’re genuinely struggling just to look at yourself in the mirror. 
Then there’s Sunghoon. The only person close enough to you now that you can reach out to. The issue with that is– you’ve never actually been close. And that’s what sucks. The fact that he of all people is all you have now? May as well just assume you have nobody.
His regular calls mean close to nothing to you in the grand scheme of things. Despite him calling twice a week every week since your mother died, your step-father is just as distanced from you as you are him. You’re aware that it’s his obligation, not because he cares. And that hurts, because it’s all you have now. 
Now, you have to try and find meaning in those short calls. After all, Sunghoon fell apart when your mother passed all on his own and you had only called him out of obligation too. You were already in college and stressed, falling apart yourself with someone to love beside you helping you through it. Calling him when it all happened felt empty because you knew both of you were trying to hold it together and save face. 
It wasn’t like this before she died. In fact, he never called and you never cared for him to. You’d see each other when you were home, share awkward pleasantries, and that’s it. It’s hard to believe that now you feel like you need a father, after all those years of practically rejecting him as one. He seemed fine with that after you hit your teen years. He knew by then that he could never be the father you want, but at least he could be the husband your mother needed.
You have grief in common now though. Loneliness. Isolation.
You try not to think about how you were okay up until now though. Having Heeseung to fall back on to soften the blow of your loss, you guess Sunghoon didn’t have that. Maybe his monotone voice and empty words were his way of coping, his way of hearing a voice that wasn’t the one in his own head when he calls you. 
It’s just you and a man you never considered family past the titles and obligatory respects. Finding meaning in his short phone calls does nothing to help your growing isolation, but you cling to them now that Heeseung is gone. You wait for the calls, you ask him to check in with you every day now, to the point Sunghoon starts to notice the difference in you.
No longer rushing to get off the phone. Now, you’re dragging on meaningless conversations. Now, he hears cracks in your voice. 
“You feeling okay?” Sunghoon asks you, in a way that makes you wonder how he’s able to tell that you’re definitely not. The way his own voice has a bit of life to it when he asks it…strange too. Like he’s concerned. 
“No–” You trail off in your meek voice, staring at your ceiling and mind swirling with all of the work you need to get done for classes already. “I’ve only been in classes for a week and I already feel like I’m drowning.” 
Sunghoon sighs into the speaker, contemplating how to further the conversation with you in a way that isn’t too intrusive. After all, who is he to pry? Still, he never intended for you to feel neglected or like you couldn’t come to him. After all, you were too happy about his lack of parenting you throughout his presence in your life. 
He finds solace in the fact that you’ve been accepting him now, though he hasn’t the slightest idea as to why. He’s checked in with you since the passing, but lately it feels to him like something more is going on with you. He may be somewhat estranged, and he may have his own problems to deal with, but you’re still someone he needs to be here for.
Plus, it makes him feel needed again, which is nice considering the circumstances. After living in this bustling house with you and your mom for so long, to it just being him and your mom, to now just him…all that remains now is dread, dissociation, and unwashed dishes in the sink.
“Did something happen?” Sunghoon keeps his questions short, offering more silence if anything for you to use this call as a therapy session if you need. 
You pause for a long moment, realizing that you want to talk about your issues so badly but don’t quite feel the need to share it with him of all people. You’ve already ranted day after day to Jay. To the point you’re sure he’s about one rant away from blocking your number. 
Probably because you’re not that close to him either. Not these days, anyway.
You sigh instead. 
“No…” You trail off. “I think I just miss being home. My dorm mate is never here, class work is already piling up, and I can’t even find the energy to look at the assignments.” 
Sunghoon can tell you’re feeling much like he does and he can’t imagine the weight on your shoulders dealing with these feelings while also in college. But, you have Heeseung, do you not? You’ve been fine for the most part until now, and you haven’t even brought him up. Not once in the past few weeks has his name been uttered by you. Which is strange, after all, the two of you were practically attached at the hip growing up, to the point of choosing the same college, working the same jobs, and even keeping that middle-school puppy love in full swing throughout highschool and college. 
If anything, after your mother passed, Sunghoon felt okay knowing you had Heeseung there with you to help you through it. It meant he could focus on himself and getting through the day-to-day. He could barely handle his own mournful thoughts, let alone the daughter’s feelings of the woman he loved so dearly. He was forever grateful for Heeseung during this time. 
He has his suspicions now though, and his heart aches for the voice he hears from you these days. 
“Why don’t you come home for a while?” He lends a pause to see if you’ll jump for the opportunity before selling the idea to you. “I have the bills here covered and your campus is only a forty minute drive. I’m sure that’s inconvenient but you won’t have bills to worry about on top of everything else.” He doesn’t want to sound too desperate, of course. 
After all, the loneliness he’s feeling is also becoming unbearable. Even if the two of you never were able to see eye to eye, or to form a bond together, you’re all he has left of your mother. He, arguably, is nothing to you, but there’s no one else in this world he’d rather heal the loneliness with outside of you. Only because you knew your mother on a level deeper than he did, and to have someone to share those memories with, or even laugh with, would help him tremendously too.
“I think being at home may do you some good.” 
You think it over in your head, wondering if being home will help you at all. In reality, you know it may make you feel more trapped than you do now. All those memories with your mother, with Heeseung, with all of your friends that have since moved to different colleges. 
But…you wouldn’t be alone. You’d be with someone who knows how to give you space because he’s never even tried to shrink your existence to that of your bedroom and your bedroom alone. You wouldn’t have to worry about rent, food, or anything aside from studies, gas money, and trying to heal from your heartbreak. 
Your dorm is small, you note as you look around the room and wonder how long it would take you to pack your things up. Two hours, give or take. The longest part would be taking all of the little decorations off the wall, if you’re being honest. 
You find yourself nodding before answering, solidifying in your mind that– maybe you’re not the only one who needs company in your space. Not too close, but close enough to not be totally isolated. 
“Okay.” You mutter into the phone, for some reason feeling the tears well up behind your eyes. 
You’re just a bit overwhelmed, that’s all. Knowing you’re going home feels like a relief you didn’t know you needed. 
“Yeah?” Sunghoon confirms. “Just let me know when and I’ll drive up there to help get your stuff back home.” 
You agree, sighing into the phone with a shaking voice. Sunghoon takes note of it, always remembering and quite frankly missing how loud and obnoxious you used to be. Hearing you like this pains him. He wants to help. Now more than ever is his chance to be someone you need, and he hates knowing he feels happy about it. 
Getting to be your father now? It feels awkward, but at least it’s a feeling other than loss. 
“You know you can talk to me, right?” Sunghoon sighs at you through the speaker. “I know I’m not someone you like coming to but–well, I’d like for you to rely on me more, okay?” 
You find a lot of comfort in those words, despite hearing him say them time and time again. This is the first time he’s ever shown that he means it through the offer of bringing you home, rather than just saying it and accepting whatever you say back to him at face value. 
“I know…” You trail off. “I’m okay though, really.” 
Sunghoon hates himself for never forcing you to accept him. Sure, there may have been some teenage defiance towards him, but eventually the two of you could have seen eye to eye. He could have been someone you needed. You could have relied on him too, rather than just Heeseung. That’s all he can really think right now. 
“Are you sure there’s nothing else going on?” The man nearly pleads in his tone, desperate to have someone rely on him again. “I’ve never heard you sound so exhausted before, I can’t help but worry.”
You’d tell him, but honestly, what grown ass man wants to hear about a first heartbreak? It would just get awkward again, he’d just feel obligated to do something about it, and worse, he might end up feeling like he’s supposed to dislike Heeseung now. 
You choose to remain silent in the final straw that broke your back this semester. 
“Really, I’m just tired.” You nod to yourself as you hold your phone loosely against your ear. “I might not go to class tomorrow and just pack instead. I’ll just call you when I’m ready, is that okay?”
Sunghoon smiles to himself, wanting to mean something to you in a way that can hopefully help you out of this slump. Your mother would be throwing a fit if she heard how you’ve been sounding, he can’t help but take over that role and try to make damn sure you are okay. 
“That’s fine,” Sunghoon confirms. “I’ll call and let them know what’s going on so don’t worry about any of that. Just get yourself ready to come back home.” 
You find yourself smiling, relieved that you don’t have to be the one to contact your school and tell them that…well, you’re breaking your student-lease, dropping your food plan, and need to be reimbursed for partial tuition costs since Sunghoon insists every semester that you purchase tuition insurance. You should no longer be charged to live on campus, or for the facilities within the dorm. 
Knowing you’ll at least get back a couple thousand dollars is a nice change of pace, and already you’re feeling weirdly excited to go back to a space that will likely make you miss your mother more. It’ll hurt, but at least you won’t be alone anymore. 
The forty minute drive to campus feels less horrifying now, and maybe your friends will still come and hang out with you in your actual home rather than a tiny dorm. 
“Sounds good.” You say, as if to end the call before you mutter out again. “Thank you, by the way. Sunghoon, really.” 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Sunghoon knew he was spiraling further and further into his loneliness. He knew it wasn’t healthy either, but now. Oh, now he realizes just how bad it’s gotten as he demonizes himself upon picking you up. 
You haven’t come home since your mother’s funeral, and even on that day he barely remembers what you looked like. Eye contact was never a thing for him, but looking at you now, he sees how much you’ve matured since you went off to college. 
Your once bright, excited eyes have turned dull and empty. The bags under them are heavy from lack of sleep. Your lips appear to be in a permanent state of pouting, though he isn’t sure if you’ve noticed. You appear to have lost weight, which is concerning for him of course, but…there’s something else about you.
Something that sits in the pit of his stomach and rots.
“Uh–” You cough, noting the way Sunghoon looks at you as you try to hand him a large box. “Thank you for helping me move my stuff back…” 
Sunghoon snaps out of his thoughts, grabbing a heavy box and then waiting for you to stack another on top. 
“No big deal,” He mutters, feeling the weight in his hands double as he prepares to carefully carry your things out to his car. “You haven’t come home in over a year, but I’ve fixed up your room for you and went ahead and connected my gaming system in there.”
You nod quietly, feeling awkward for how fatherly he seems.
“Thanks…” You trail off, flopping a pile of your things into his trunk before stopping to look at him. “You look like shit.”
Sunghoon furrows his brows, noticing for a split second how that facial expression you made is very similar to one his wife used to throw at him when he’d have hair out of place, or a wardrobe malfunction. And then he smiles. 
“You’re not looking too good yourself.” He jokes back.
You smile back at him, feeling a bit of the awkward air fizzle away. 
“Well, I’m not doing well, so.” 
You were continuing the joke, but his face falls before yours does. 
“You can talk to me–” He starts.
“I know, I know.” You wave him off. “I’ll feel a lot better once we get back and I can settle in.
There’s a nod from him now, and then silence as the two of you continue to put the rest of your belongings into both his car and your own. 
“Well, I guess I’ll see you in a bit?” You say now, awkwardly.
Sunghoon nods, looking you over once again.
“See you in a bit.” 
   ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Shame.
Pure fucking shame. 
Sunghoon knew he needed another presence in this house but upon seeing you again, he knew it may have been a mistake. 
He likes to think of himself as level headed. He’s never gotten into any trouble, never had a stray thought, never cheated, lied, or stole anything. He can’t think of a single thing that he’s done in life to be considered taboo.  But looking at you feels…incorrect?
Indecent? 
You’re his step-daughter for fuck sake but it’s the fact that you don’t feel like you are. When he looks at you, he just sees another person. He did this to help you, he did this to feel needed, to be your fucking father. 
He did not do this to look at you this way or to feel his eye stray even without his intention.
Why do you look so much like her? Why do you do that thing with your pinky when you carry things like she did? You even have a similar smell, probably having picked up on your mother’s habits throughout childhood. 
You being here…It’s like she’s still here. Except it’s you, and he can’t be thinking this way. 
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
This fic will be dark, very taboo, morally bad. Not a grey area, it is blatantly bad. sunghoon will do bad things. Please be aware of your own triggers once it's completed and posted. remember that I write within my own triggers, not yours. That being said! Please do show lots of love if this is a fic you're interested in reading! If you want to be tagged, I have a permanent tag list, there are not any separate tag lists for individual fics so keep that in mind.  ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
due to safety concerns regarding the nature of this fic, it will be posted on patreon, ao3, and wattpad (links on pinned). i'm not sure about posting it on tumblr because i do genuinely expect to be bullied off the platform.
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kirammanswifey · 30 days ago
Note
Will you, pretty please, make a pt 2 of arcane characters breaking up with their so? You know, some fluff to cure our wounds…
arcane characters reconcile with you after the breakup x fem reader
characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.
writer's note: let's be honest, both you and i needed this, i love a bit of drama but a bit of fluff is also necessary sometimes, and it was so nice to write this, i loved all the reconciliations, especially caitlyn's. thank you so much for all the support you give me, it makes me want to keep creating more and more content. as you know the requests are open ;)
break up link:
alternative sad final link:
@sugurulefttesticle thanks for the support babe :3
Viktor
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The laboratory was shrouded in an unsettling gloom, the shadows cast by the machines seemed longer, darker. Loneliness had settled in every corner, but at the center of it all, Viktor was there, hunched over his plans, as if the weight of his thoughts was crushing him.
Since you had left, time had lost its meaning. The hours blurred into sleepless nights and frantic days of work. But nothing, no formula, no discovery, could fill the void you had left.
The door opened with a soft creak, but Viktor didn’t turn around. Perhaps he had imagined that sound before, hoping it was you, and he feared that this time it would be another illusion. However, your gentle steps echoed on the metal floor, and then his heart skipped a beat.
"Viktor..." your voice was barely a whisper, laden with emotion. "Please, look at me."
He closed his eyes, as if he needed to gather all his strength to do so. Slowly, he turned towards you, and seeing you there, a mix of surprise and something akin to relief crossed his face. But his eyes were filled with something deeper, a sadness he couldn’t hide.
“I didn’t think you would come back…” he said with a broken voice, barely audible. “After everything I did… I didn’t think I deserved your return.”
You stepped closer, each step carrying the intent to close the distance he had put between you. "Viktor, it was never about deserving. It’s about understanding that we need to face this together."
“I pushed you away because… I’m afraid,” he confessed, his voice trembling with the emotional weight. “Afraid that you’ll see me fail, that everything I am won’t be enough. Afraid that one day you’ll realize you can be happier without me.”
The weight of his words hit you like a wave, but you didn’t waver. “Viktor, we all have fears. But running from what scares us doesn’t make it go away. I’m here because I don’t want a future without you, even if it means facing our fears together.”
Viktor lowered his gaze, a silent tear falling down his cheek. “You are... the only thing that has kept me human. Without you, I become a machine, soulless, heartless. I don’t want to lose myself… I don’t want to lose you.”
Hearing those words, your own tears began to flow. You stepped closer to him, your hand reaching his face, gently caressing the cheek where the tear had fallen. “You won’t lose yourself, Viktor. Not as long as we’re together.”
He finally lifted his gaze, his eyes searching yours with a mix of desperation and hope. “How can you keep loving me after everything I’ve put you through?”
“Because I love you,” you said without hesitation. “Not for what you do, but for who you are, even when you can’t see it yourself.”
Viktor let out a sob he had been holding back, and without thinking twice, he moved towards you, wrapping you in his arms. It was a fragile embrace but full of promises. In that moment, you knew that, although the road would be difficult, together you could find a way to rebuild what had been broken.
Jinx
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The night was heavy with rain and despair. Jinx stood at the edge of a building, her feet barely touching the edge as she gazed into the abyss below. The icy wind whipped her body, but she didn’t feel the cold. She was trapped in a whirlwind of dark thoughts, each more desperate than the last.
“End it,” the voices in her head whispered, cruel and persistent. “It’s best for everyone. Get rid of all the pain. You don’t deserve more.”
Her gaze was empty, lost in a place no one else could reach. She closed her eyes, letting the tears mix with the rain, allowing the weight of her emotions to push her further toward the edge.
But then, through the sound of the rain, she heard something. A voice. A familiar voice, filled with anguish. “Jinx, no, please... don’t do it.”
She opened her eyes slowly and saw you, soaked by the rain, your face marked by desperation and tears. You had run to her, not stopping, not thinking of the danger. Now you were there, fighting to reach her, fighting to bring her back.
“Why did you come?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I told you to stay away... not to come back.”
“Because I can’t leave you alone,” you responded, taking a step closer, each movement filled with fear and love. “I love you, Jinx. I can’t lose you like this.”
She shook her head, the tears falling uncontrollably. “You shouldn’t love me. Not after everything I’ve done. I’m a mess. I’ll ruin you, like I ruin everything.”
“Let me decide that,” you said, your voice broken but firm. “You’re not a mess. You’re my baby, and I love you, even when everything seems to fall apart. I won’t leave you alone.”
Jinx stepped back slightly, as if your words hurt her more than anything else. “I always hurt people... I can’t stop. I don’t want to hurt you, but I always end up doing it.”
“I can take it,” you replied, stepping closer, extending your hands toward her, knowing you couldn’t rush her. “Because I’d rather be with you in your worst moments than lose you forever. You don’t have to face this alone. Let me help you.”
She trembled, the weight of her emotions too much to bear. “I’m scared... scared that I can’t stop, scared that this darkness will consume me. I don’t want you to sink with me.”
“We’ll sink together if we have to,” you promised, your hands still extended, waiting for her to reach you. “I don’t care how much it costs. I’m here to stay, Jinx. I won’t abandon you.”
For a long and painful moment, Jinx remained silent, her gaze filled with a sadness so deep it seemed impossible to heal. But finally, her hands moved, barely brushing yours at first, then clinging to them as if they were the only thing keeping her anchored to this world.
“Promise me you won’t leave me,” she whispered, her voice broken by anguish.
“I promise,” you said, squeezing her hands with all the love and desperation you felt. “No matter what happens, no matter how dark it gets, I’ll always be with you.”
With those words, Jinx stepped back from the edge and collapsed into your arms, her body shaken by heart-wrenching sobs. The storm still raged around them, but at that moment, they were bound by something stronger than fear: the promise not to abandon each other.
Vi
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The weeks without Vi have been torment. Each day feels like a part of you fades a little more, as if her absence is slowly tearing your soul apart. Today, you’re in the gardens of your home, holding a photo in your hands: the first one you took with Vi, both smiling, happy, unaware of the pain that would come after. Tears blur your vision as your heart breaks over and over with the memories.
Then, you hear footsteps, and there she is, standing, her eyes filled with a mix of regret and desperation. You quickly try to dry your tears, to hide the photo, as if that could erase the pain consuming you.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, your voice trembling, not sure if you can bear what’s to come.
Vi takes a step forward, her expression more vulnerable than ever. “I miss you,” she says, her voice broken. “I’m sorry for everything I said, everything I did. I can’t live without you.”
You close your eyes, feeling every word of hers like a direct blow to your heart. “None of that matters now, Vi,” you respond, trying to maintain your firmness. “My family has decided to marry me to a member of the Piltover council.”
Vi looks at you, her face pale. “Marry?” she whispers, as if the word were a curse. “You can’t do it. I know you don’t love anyone else. You can’t love anyone but me.”
Tears threaten to return, but you hold them back. “It’s not my choice, Vi. They decide for me. You’re the one who left me, who pushed me into this destiny.”
“I was an idiot,” Vi admits, taking another step toward you. “I know. But I can’t let this happen. I’ll fight for you, even if I have to face the whole world. I won’t lose you, not like this.”
“And what will that change?” you shout, unable to contain the pain any longer. “You can’t fight everyone! You can’t change who I am, what they expect of me.”
Vi stops, her gaze fixed on yours, with an intensity that leaves you breathless. “The only time you’ll stand at an altar will be with me by your side,” she says with unbreakable firmness. “I won’t let you marry anyone else. Not as an act of pride, but because I love you, and I don’t want to live without you.”
“Vi, please,” you whisper, the tears now falling freely. “This is bigger than us. You can’t fix it with pretty words.”
“Then I’ll fix it with actions,” she responds, with a resolve you hadn’t seen before. “I’ll go wherever necessary, face your parents, that damn council, anyone who tries to come between us. I won’t let them take you from me.”
Her voice trembles, but her determination does not. “I don’t want you to be my savior,” you whisper, your voice almost inaudible. “I want you to be my partner, my equal. But I can’t do this alone, Vi. I can’t keep fighting if you’re not by my side.”
Vi comes closer, until the distance between you both disappears. “You’ll never be alone again,” she promises, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I love you, and I swear I’ll fight for us, until my last breath. I won’t let them separate us, not them, not anyone.”
The weight of her words envelops you, and finally, you let yourself fall into her arms, allowing all the pain, fear, and contained love to overflow. Vi holds you tightly, whispering promises of a future together, promises that, this time, you’re willing to believe.
Caitlyn
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The trial is a public spectacle, a circus meant to satisfy Piltover’s thirst for justice. You stand in the center of the room, hands tied behind your back, as the council leaders gaze at you coldly. The accusations fly over your head like sharp daggers: treason, conspiracy, disloyalty. All because you tried to talk to Ekko, to seek a peace you believed possible between the two cities.
Caitlyn stands at the back of the room, her face impassive, her gaze fixed on you. She hasn’t said a word since the trial began, and the emptiness in her expression breaks you more than any word of condemnation. You know she’s fighting internally, but her silence feels like a sentence in itself.
Finally, the judge announces the decision: "For the charges of treason, this court decrees that you will be stripped of your position as Enforcer and permanently exiled from Piltover."
The verdict falls like a hammer on your heart. You feel your world crumble in an instant. You look at Caitlyn, searching in her eyes for some sign of support, of compassion, but she remains motionless.
As the judge is about to strike the gavel to conclude the session, Caitlyn steps forward, her voice resonating with dangerous calm. "One moment."
The entire room turns toward her. Caitlyn advances with the elegance and authority she has always possessed, but there’s something new in her eyes, a spark of defiance.
"I cannot allow this sentence to be carried out," she says firmly. "This isn’t justice; it’s an act of fear and repression. The person you’re accusing only sought peace, a diplomatic solution to prevent more bloodshed."
The judge frowns, but Caitlyn continues before he can interrupt. "I am the leader of the Enforcers, and my loyalty is to true justice, not a system that punishes hope. If you expel my partner from this city, if you strip someone whose only crime was trying to save us all, then you’ll be provoking a rift you cannot control."
Caitlyn takes another step forward, and her voice lowers, but each word is a sharp edge. "I could easily take control, dismantle this corrupt system from within, and there would be nothing you could do to stop me. But that’s not the justice I seek. What I want is fairness, compassion, and truth."
The silence in the room is deafening. The council members exchange glances, understanding they are not dealing with someone who can be manipulated or intimidated.
After what feels like an eternity, the judge finally relents. "We will review the sentence. The accused will be sanctioned and will not be allowed to leave Piltover, but she will not be exiled or stripped of her position."
Caitlyn nods slightly, then approaches you, freeing you from your bonds with her own hands. "Let’s go," she murmurs, her voice soft yet filled with authority.
You leave the courtroom with her, and once you’re away from the others’ eyes, Caitlyn stops. For the first time, you see her tremble. "I’m sorry," she whispers, her eyes finally filling with tears. "I shouldn’t have doubted you. I shouldn’t have left you alone."
The vulnerability in her voice disarms you. Despite everything, despite the pain, you know Caitlyn did what she could to save you. "Cait," you say softly, taking her face in your hands. "What you just did... was the greatest act of love you could give me. You chose between authority and me, and you chose me."
She closes her eyes, tears falling freely. "It will always be you," she says, her voice trembling. "No matter the odds or the problems that come, I will always choose you. You are my justice, my reason, my everything."
The words sink into your heart, bringing overwhelming relief. You kiss her softly, sealing with that gesture the love that binds you. "You are my everything too, Cait," you whisper. "You always have been."
She holds you tightly, as if she’ll never let you go. "Together," she says in a whisper, her voice laden with emotion. "No matter what happens, we’ll face everything together. Because you are my choice, now and always."
Jayce
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The air was thick with tension as the words that had been kept bottled up for so long finally exploded. Everything about him was focused on his ambition, on his vision for Piltover, and everything in you was hurt, torn apart by his indifference.
The last time you saw each other, it was a goodbye filled with cruel and cold words, an ending with no way back. You had decided that you could no longer be the shadow of his dreams, an accessory to the side of his grand plans. You didn’t want any more empty promises. You didn’t want to be the sacrifice.
But now, all that seemed about to change.
One day, you find yourself in your laboratory, lost in your thoughts, trying to push away the lingering pain. The door opens with a familiar creak, and your heart skips a beat without warning. It's not someone you expected to see. It’s him. Jayce.
Silence rises between the two of you. The air is heavy, as if time itself had stopped. He’s there, looking at you, but his gaze no longer holds the confidence it once had. In his eyes, there’s something else now: uncertainty, a faint glimmer of regret.
"I thought I understood," he says, his voice deep but hesitant. "I thought that what I was doing, the ambition, the future of Piltover... I thought it all had to be that way. That I had to leave everything behind, even you, if I wanted to get to where I am now."
You remain silent, the pain still fresh in your veins, but something inside you urges you to listen. You know that everything you’ve been through together can’t be left behind without an answer. You can’t help it, but something inside you breaks again at the sound of his voice, the same one that used to calm your fears, now trembling.
"But I haven’t forgotten you," he continues. "I haven’t stopped thinking about you, about us, about what we were. About what we could have been... if only I weren’t so blind."
You look at him, his presence so intense that it almost makes you doubt everything you thought you knew. "Then why are you here?" you ask, your heart pounding in your chest. "After everything you said... after everything that happened, why?"
Jayce takes a step towards you, hesitant but determined. "Because in the end, I realized that nothing is worth it if you’re not by my side. No matter how great Piltover becomes, no matter how grand my legacy is, if I don’t share that greatness with the person who truly matters."
His voice breaks at the end, as if he’s finally acknowledging something he had avoided all along.
A lump forms in your throat, and your hands tremble slightly. "Jayce..." you murmur, not knowing whether you want to believe him or if you’re afraid it’s too late for all this.
"I’m sorry," he says, his tone filled with remorse. "I’m sorry for not listening to you. For not realizing what we had until I almost lost it. I don’t know how to fix it, but I want to try. If you’ll let me... I want to try to make it right. I want you to be part of my life, not just a secondary option, not just something I pushed aside."
He gently takes your hands, almost as if he’s afraid you’ll break in his fingers. "I want to be better for you. And if that means changing, if it means prioritizing you, I’ll do it. Because I need you. Not just as part of my life, but as the center of it."
Jayce’s words envelop you like a warm embrace, but you’re still afraid. Afraid that this promise might be just another lie. However, a part of you wants to believe that all of this can be real.
"Do you really understand?" you ask, looking into his eyes with an intensity that reflects your doubts and hopes. "Because I don’t want to be a shadow anymore. I don’t want to be the sacrifice on your path to something that doesn’t include what we shared."
He nods, the determination in his gaze revealing that he’s not here just to talk but to prove it. "I promise you, I understand now. What we have is the only thing that truly matters."
Your breathing calms, though the uncertainty still lingers. "So what are you going to do? Are you going to stop fighting just for Piltover and start fighting for us?"
Jayce smiles, a vulnerable but sincere smile. "I’m going to fight for what really matters, for what I didn’t want to lose. For you."
A weight lifts from your shoulders, and for a moment, you feel that the pain of everything lost can be healed. Because, in the end, it’s not about power or control. It’s about what the heart chooses, about what people decide to cherish.
You step closer to him, gently touching his face, and at last, after so long, you allow yourself to be vulnerable. "I don’t want to lose you again," you whisper.
"And you won’t," he responds, drawing you even closer, as if there had never been space between you. "Never again."
Ekko
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The cold wind of Zaun blew strongly as you entered the house, the echo of your footsteps resonating like a forewarning. You didn’t know what you were going to find, but something told you that Ekko was no longer the same. The house, once filled with laughter and camaraderie, now seemed empty, desolate.
Ekko was there, sitting in front of a table, his hands trembling slightly. When he saw you, his eyes widened, but there was no surprise, just a flicker of something else. Regret.
"Ekko..." you whispered, your voice breaking. In the distance, the image of the battle came to mind. That night when you almost lost him forever. It had been a brutal blow. The fear of never seeing him again consumed you.
"I saw everything, you know?" Ekko began to speak, his voice softer than usual, as if he were searching for the right words. "When I fell… when everything seemed to be ending… the only thing I saw… was you." A long sigh escaped his chest, as if those words had cost him as much as a contained scream. "I saw your face, your pain… and I realized, too late, that the only battle that truly mattered, the one I didn’t want to lose… was ours."
Silence filled the room, your eyes welling up with tears as you processed what he had just said. "Ekko, why...? Why couldn’t we make it work before?"
He looked at you deeply, as if each word was a struggle, as if he were slowly building up what he felt. "I told you that you weren’t enough... but it was me who wasn’t enough. I, who thought I could save everything, who thought I could be everything for everyone, but when I looked at my life… I saw nothing. I saw what I had lost the most. And it was me who pushed away the only thing that truly mattered."
He stood up with effort, his eyes filled with regret and pain, the way he looked at you was so intense it hurt. "I… I fought for Zaun, but the only real fight I should be fighting, the only one that matters, is for you." His words flowed out of his mouth, but it seemed he was seeking his own forgiveness. "I failed you. I failed you because I didn’t understand what it meant to have you by my side. You were always enough, and you always will be."
He approached slowly, his face now close to yours, and though his gaze was tired, there was something new in it: vulnerability. "Would you let me fight for you, even now, even though everything is broken?"
Your voice trembled as you looked into Ekko's eyes. "Why are you asking me now? Why when everything is already broken?"
"Because I saw you leave, I saw how my life dimmed without you. And I realized that despite everything, the only thing that keeps me standing is knowing that I can still fight for what I love the most. And that's you. You are my reason to keep going. My only reason." His eyes glistened, and for a moment, it seemed that time had stopped between the two of you.
The air was heavy with palpable pain, and your tears fell uncontrollably. No matter how much damage had been done, the love between you had never left, it had just been buried under layers of pride and distance.
"Ekko..." you whispered, your voice broken. "What if I'm no longer what you need?"
"You’ll always be. You always were. And you always will be, baby" he said, his voice cracking as he took your hands with a desperate strength. "I’m so sorry."
Finally, words were no longer enough, and in an impulse, you both leaned in, letting yourselves be carried by the need to heal what was broken. Ekko's tears mixed with yours, the pain transformed into something that needed to be healed, and within the shadows of the house, you both finally understood that although the path to reconciliation would be difficult, there was still a chance to fight for the love that hadn’t completely disappeared.
Silco
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The warehouse's dim light wrapped around you like an ominous forewarning, the thick, heavy air clinging to your skin. You had fallen into the trap, and although you knew it, you couldn't stop fighting, trying to free yourself. You had been at the brink of death more times than you cared to count, but this time it was different. The face of the man who held you prisoner was not one you knew well, but you did know that he was under the orders of someone much more dangerous. Silco had never fully explained the world he moved in, but something about the surroundings told you there would be no escape. This wasn't just any kidnapping. This time you wouldn't be saved so easily.
The ropes binding your wrists tightened as your mind spun in search of a way out. Your breathing was uneven, and every attempt to calm yourself only multiplied the fear. The man in front of you, with harsh features and cold eyes, watched your every move with a cruel smile. The sense of threat was palpable, yet you tried to defy him, even though you knew it was a vain attempt.
"Silco?" You called, but your voice trembled, betrayed by panic.
"Do you think he'll come to save you?"
The man let out a mocking laugh, stepping closer, the blade of a knife catching the warehouse's dim light.
"Silco has too many problems to deal with you," he said with a calm that only made the situation more terrifying. "You should already know, in this world, there's no room for weakness. Especially not for a little whore like you; you whores are replaceable. And apparently, he's already replaced you, everyone knows it. But my boss thought it would be a courteous gesture to send him your head as a small gift."
Your thoughts blurred with the sound of the door bursting open, and a chill ran down your spine at the familiar echo of firm, controlled footsteps. It was him. There was no doubt.
The man didn't seem worried, his arrogance had blinded him. "What's the great Silco doing here? Jealous that I have your former little bitch now? Relax, I'll give her back to you once I'm done with her. You can keep a leg or both, but her organs are mine, I'm sure they'll fetch a good price in the market."
There was no response. Silco didn't say a word, but the tension in the air was so thick that the entire room seemed to hold its breath. His eyes, cold as ice, scanned the man before you and then fixed on you, without showing a hint of emotion. Without hesitation, his hand slid to the back of his belt. In the blink of an eye, the sound of the gunshot echoed through the room, and the man fell to the ground, his life fading so quickly he didn't even have time to comprehend it.
It all happened in a matter of seconds, but for you, the world seemed to stop the moment Silco's figure approached. The intensity in his gaze, that palpable energy that used to envelop you in his presence, was now just a reminder of everything you had lost. He freed you from the ropes without a word. The contact of his hand as he touched you sent a shiver down your spine, and though his gesture was practical, you couldn't help but wonder if, in some corner of his being, there was still something of the person he had been before. Something that had loved you.
"You'll be fine," he murmured, his tone cold and distant as always. But this time, it wasn't the tone of the protector, the leader who had cared for you. It was the voice of someone who had forgotten what it meant to feel.
You tried to pull away from his touch, the same touch you had once desired with all your being. You couldn't bear it any longer. You couldn't bear him, his indifference.
"Why do you keep doing this? Why do you keep saving me? If you hate me so much, why save me?" Your voice was a broken whisper, but the pain in it was clear.
Silco remained silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that burned. You could see the internal struggle in his gaze, that shadow of doubt that had arisen between him and you. Finally, he took a step towards you, his face implacable, but his hands trembling as he approached.
"You didn't understand anything," he murmured, his tone low, more vulnerable than you had ever heard. "What I told you... it was all a lie. I didn't want to lose you, that's why I pushed you away. I didn't want you close to this world, to this hell... but I couldn't. I couldn't let you go. I thought if I pushed you away, you wouldn't suffer, but..." His voice broke briefly, and silence filled the space between you both.
You looked at his face, puzzled by the contradiction in him. Everything he had said before, everything he had done, seemed to crumble now before your eyes.
"You don't understand, do you?" You whispered, still fighting the lump in your throat. "What did you think? That I didn't know what I was getting into when I decided to stay with you? That I didn't know death would always be at my back? That I would always have to live on the edge because you insisted on being the damn king of a world like this?"
Silco didn't respond immediately, his face softened slightly, and a shadow of regret crossed his gaze.
"I know," he said in a hoarse voice, "I know everything I said was cruel. But what I didn't tell you... is that, even if the whole world collapses, the only thing that matters to me... the only thing I've truly loved... is you."
The impact of his words hit you, and for a second, time stopped. The pain, the rage, the uncertainty, all of it seemed to dissolve into the air. But above all, there was something else, something you never expected to hear from him.
"I chose you," you whispered as you slowly approached him. "Despite everything, I chose you. I chose you, and even knowing what it would mean, I would do it again. Because that's what love really is. Choosing the person despite everything, even knowing death is just around the corner."
A flicker of emotion crossed his eyes, something you rarely saw in him, and for a moment, all the hatred, all the anger that had existed between you disappeared, leaving you alone, vulnerable, but finally honest.
"Then, come back, please," he pleaded, his voice trembling, his hand seeking yours. "I can't bear a world without you. I can't lose you. I'll keep protecting you, no matter how many times I have to dirty my hands with blood."
You approached, touching his forehead with the softness of a caress that, in that moment, was the only thing that could heal the wounds you both carried.
"I'm here, my love," you whispered to him, as he closed his eyes, letting the pain and hope dissolve between his arms. "I'll never leave you again. No matter what happens. It will always be you and me against the world. Always and forever."
And so, in that moment, the broken words and wounds of the past were left behind. In their place, there was only the certainty that, in the end, the love they shared couldn't be destroyed, even if the whole world was in ruins.
Mel
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It's close to three in the morning when you hear a knock on the door. You're half asleep, your head heavy, but something in the air alerts you. With every step you take towards the entrance, you feel your heart racing, as if you know something is about to change, something you can't stop. You open the door, and there she is.
Mel is not the same as before. She isn't wearing the luxuries that always accompany her, the perfectly applied makeup, or the golden jewelry that always shone on her skin. She's a mess, her gaze lost, her face haggard. The strong woman who always seemed in control is now broken, empty. And when she looks at you, her eyes are not the same. They are filled with pain, with a suffering she hasn't been able to hide.
Before you can say a word, Mel throws herself at you. She takes you by surprise, but you quickly wrap your arms around her. Her body is trembling, as if her entire being is collapsing. You feel her tears soaking your shirt, and in the silence of the early morning, she begins to speak through sobs.
"I faced her..." her voice is broken, and every word costs her more than it seems. "My mother... she told me... she told me I would never be enough. That I'm not. You were right." She pauses for a moment, unable to continue, as if the weight of those words is too heavy for her soul to carry.
You hold her tighter, even though the words coming out of her mouth are like daggers in your chest. "Mel, please... don't say that," you murmur, though the anguish in your own voice is as present as hers. "You're not what she says. You're not."
"I'm her puppet," she responds bitterly. "She manipulated me... manipulated me to make all this happen. To put Piltover in her hands. I started a war, and now... I can't stop it. I'm to blame for all of this." Her crying intensifies, and you can feel her pain as if she's tearing herself apart inside. "She called me weak... called me a disgrace to the Medarda clan..."
Those words leave you cold. You feel the air catch in your throat. But you can't let her fall. You can't let her sink further into that darkness. You pull her away slightly, holding her face in your hands, forcing her to look into your eyes.
"No, Mel," you say firmly, even though your heart is shattered. "You're not weak. You're not a disgrace. You are... you're Mel Medarda, an incredible woman, not Ambessa's daughter. And that's what you'll always be to me."
She shakes her head, as if your words are merely an illusion. "You don't see it... you don't understand," she says, her voice broken by the sobs. "I am everything she wants me to be. Everything she told me to be. And now I don't know who I am... I don't know if I'm what you need."
You move closer to her, almost brushing her lips, and you can feel her desperation. "What you need isn't to be what your mother wants, Mel. What you need... what you need is to be yourself. You are enough. You are more than enough. I want you, with everything you are. It doesn't matter what she thinks. I love you just the way you are."
Mel closes her eyes tightly, as if she wants to block out the pain of your words, but even she knows that something in you is true. You feel that, though she doesn't want to admit it, your love for her is a refuge, a sanctuary from the torment she's lived her entire life.
"I promise I won't leave you alone in this," you continue, holding her face in your hands. "We'll figure it out together, Mel. We will. You're not going to lose me. I'm not going to lose you."
Mel finally looks up and meets your gaze, her eyes filled with tears, but there's something different in her expression. It's not the emptiness she gave you before, it's a spark, something of hope that begins to ignite deep within her.
"I don't want to keep fighting alone," she says softly, almost as if it's a lost whisper. "I'm so afraid... so afraid of all this. Of what I've caused. But... I don't want to lose what we have. I don't want to lose you."
"You won't," you reply with a sigh, holding her tightly, as if you could embrace all her fears. "I won't leave you alone. I promise. We'll figure it out. Together."
Time seems to stop at that moment. The world outside keeps turning, but you and Mel, in this instant, have only each other. And although the future is uncertain, you know that as long as you have each other, nothing can tear you apart.
Sevika
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The sound of heavy footsteps is the first thing you hear. It’s late, the city is shrouded in darkness, but something in the air tells you this time it’s not a dream, not a nightmare. The knocking on the door startles you, and when you open it, you see her.
Sevika is standing in front of you, slightly swaying, her breathing uneven. The scent of alcohol is strong, mixed with the sensation of sweat and exhaustion emanating from her body. Her eyes, usually so firm, are now dull, almost lost, as if she’s searching for something she doesn’t know how to find.
“Sevika… what are you doing here?” you ask, your heart pounding in your chest, confused and worried to see her like this.
She doesn’t respond immediately, just stands there, watching you, as if she wants to say something, but the words seem stuck in her throat. After a long silence, she finally speaks, her voice deep and broken.
“I went to the brothels…” she murmurs, her head hanging low, as if it’s a confession, something weighing heavier than anything else. “To forget you. To stop thinking about you. I was with other people… so many other people. But everything I did reminded me of you. Of you and how… how I lost you.”
Your stomach churns at her words. The betrayal cuts you like a sharp knife. You step back from her, feeling the pain grow in your chest.
“No… why? Why did you do that?” The anger and hurt are clear in your voice, but there’s also a vulnerability you can’t hide. “Is that why you left me? To be with other people?”
Sevika lifts her head, her eyes reflecting a remorse so deep you can almost feel it as your own. “I didn’t do it to hurt you,” she says, her words faltering. “I did it because I thought it was what I should do… because I hurt you, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I didn’t want you to need me, I didn’t want to drag you with me into this damn abyss.”
Your heart beats so fast you feel it might burst out of your chest. Every word from Sevika hurts more, but there’s something in her gaze, in the way she’s opening up to you now, that makes you hesitate.
“But…” she continues, taking another step closer. “None of it worked. None of it. I remember you in every one of those faces. I remember you when I’m alone when I try to forget you. And the worst part, the most painful part, is that I can’t… I can’t stop wanting you.”
The words hang in the heavy air between you. The silence becomes unbearable. Sevika takes another step, closer to you until you can feel her ragged breath. She’s so close you can see every line on her face, the fragility you never thought she had.
“I… I never wanted you to see me this way,” she says, her voice breaking, as if every word costs her a world. “But please… listen to me carefully. There’s nothing I want more in this damn world than to be with you. I don’t want to keep living without you. I can’t. I love you. I can’t keep running from it. I can’t live with the weight of not telling you this sooner.”
The air freezes between you, and for a moment, the world seems to stop. The hate, the confusion, the betrayal… it all mixes in your chest, but deep down, you know what she just said is real.
“What?” you manage to whisper, your eyes filling with unshed tears. “Are you serious?”
Sevika closes her eyes, as if fighting against herself. “I love you,” she repeats, her voice softer now, as if she’s giving you everything she had, everything she had kept in her heart. “I love you, and I don’t want to keep living this lie. You… you’re the only thing that matters to me. You’re my only reason for being here. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want you to keep suffering because of me. Please…”
Those “please” are like a plea, a silent scream that pierces through all the walls you had built around your heart. Sevika, the strong and fierce woman who always showed you her darkest side, is now on her knees before you, vulnerable, open, filled with a desperation you hadn’t seen before.
And in that instant, you feel everything crumble. The pain, the resentment, the confusion… it all disappears. Only love remains, raw and real, so strong it almost chokes you. Without thinking, you throw yourself into her arms, your arms wrapping around her with a desperate intensity, as if you fear that if you let her go, she’ll disappear forever.
“I love you too,” you whisper against her neck, the tears falling uncontrollably. “I love you so much it hurts.”
Sevika holds you with the same strength, her body trembling against yours. “Then let’s make it not hurt,” she murmurs, her words filled with a mix of relief and pain. “Let’s not let it separate us again, please.”
“That won’t happen again,” you reply, your lips seeking hers, not caring about anything else. “I won’t let it happen. What we have is forever.”
When your lips meet, the kiss is fierce, filled with the passion of everything that has built up, of everything that was left unsaid. It’s a kiss filled with desperation, love, and unspoken promises. It’s the beginning of a new chapter, one where the darkness won’t separate you, where love will keep you together, always.
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fairytaleendingss · 15 days ago
Text
Room for One More?
Chapter 10
Summary: You finally end up spending some time alone with Remus.
CW: Coughing, Fever, Fainting, Description of sickness, Nightmares, Sirius being emotionally stunted.
Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9
Hey guys! Sorry for the delay on this one. I've been trying to branch out a bit with my writing over the last little bit to keep the inspiration going.
To be honest, I'm feeling a little lost with this story. I'm going to continue writing it, don't worry! But I really only properly planned up until the Christmas chapter, so if anyone has any ideas of what they'd like to see happen, feel free to send me a request!
--
The door closed behind you with a loud thump. You leaned your head on it for a moment, panting to catch you breath.
It had been a particularly long day at work. Most of the staff were off sick due to a flu outbreak and it meant that all the more responsibility fell on you. On top of that, you'd felt extremely exhausted all day. You weren't sure if it was from being overworked or a lack of sleep or some twisted combination of the two but your limbs felt like lead and your eyes had kept falling shut from where they were fixated on the screen of your computer.
The walk up the stairs had been torture paired with the fatigue that was consuming your bones and you felt your legs ache as you entered the hall of your apartment.
"Are you alright?"
You jumped as a voice emerged from behind you and you swung around to see Remus seated on the couch with a book in hand.
"Jesus!" you shouted, clutching a hand to your chest.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
You shook your head, sniffling slightly. "No it's fine. I just... didn't expect you to be sitting there."
He chuckled dryly. "Right, well no one is home so I thought I'd make use of the living room for a bit."
"Right..."
James had left two days ago for some sort of 'team building' trip with his workmates and you supposed Sirius had a gig tonight with the band, leaving only you and Remus in the apartment. As happy as you were that you didn't have to interact with Sirius tonight (you were still upset with him and really didn't have the energy right now to put on a happy face), you sort of wished James was there to ease the tension. Things had been more amicable with Remus lately. His Christmas gift had helped to ease some of the animosity between you, but you were still far from friends. You barely talked outside of necessary pleasantries and you definitely never spent time alone together.
You cleared your throat awkwardly but it quickly morphed into a loud cough. Remus looked up from his book once more, his brows furrowed as he assessed you from across the room.
"That doesn't sound good. Are you feeling okay?"
You huffed out a breath, throwing your bag down on the kitchen counter and running a hand over your face.
"Oh yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired," you murmured awkwardly. "I think I'll have an early night."
Swiftly, you began moving across the room towards the bathroom.
"Okay but-"
You shut the door with a sigh before Remus was able to continue.
You leaned back against the bathroom door, feeling a drop of sweat trail from your hairline and down the side of your face. If you were being completely honest, you felt like shit. You were just too embarrassed to admit you felt like shit in front of Remus.
You took a deep breath and straightened up, hoping a shower would help you feel a little more like yourself.
You stripped off, shivering in the cool air of the bathroom and turned the shower nob. Then you stepped under the spray, letting the warm water wash over you as the room began to fill with steam.
You didn't know how long you stood under the water, letting it sooth your aching bones but once you stepped out, you noticed that the sky outside the bathroom window had grown dark.
Slowly you trudged from the bathroom to your bedroom at the end of the hallway, pulling on your comfiest pajamas. With the little energy you had left, you shuffled out into the living area in the hopes of finding some leftovers in the fridge to at eat for dinner before you went to bed and inevitably slept for the next 48 hours.
As you emerged from the hallway, you noticed that you had begun to feel substantially worse. You were shivering despite wearing your thickest woolen pajamas, but somehow you were sweating at the same time.
You were glad to see that Remus had retired to his bedroom for the evening, not wanting him to see you in such a pathetic state. Your legs felt like they had cinderblocks tied to them, every step taking an immense amount of your dwindling energy.
As you made your way through the room, you suddenly began to feel... odd. You're head felt heavy, your vision darkening around the edges.
You came to a halt beside the couch, blinking absently and taking a second to catch your breath but it didn't seem to help all that much. Then, without warning, everything went black.
--
"Y/n?..."
"...hey, can you hear me?"
There was a voice coming from somewhere above you but you couldn't quite place who's it was.
You blinked slowly, awareness returning to your foggy mind. As you vision cleared, the first thing you saw were Remus' concerned chocolate eyes boring down on you.
"Hey, are you okay? You with me now?"
It was then his full face came into frame. Looking around, you realised that you were lying on the floor beside the coffee table, your feet resting on a pile of couch cushions. Remus was on his knees beside you, leaning down with a hand resting gently on top of your head.
You mustered a nod, a wave of embarrassment rippling through you.
"Okay, that's good," he murmured kindly. "Did you hit your head?"
"I- um," you took stock of how you were feeling. You were uncomfortable and still vaguely dizzy. Your elbow was throbbing from where you must've hit it on the corner of the coffee table as you fell but other than that, you didn't seem to have injured yourself too badly.
"N-no. I don't think so."
Remus nodded, his brows pinching in thought as he scanned through the next steps in his head.
"How many fingers am I holding up?"
He flashed a peace sign in your direction.
"Two."
"Good, that's good. Do you think you feel ready to sit up?"
"Y-yeah... I think so," you mumbled unsurely.
"Okay, I'll help you. Take your time," he responded in a voice more gentle than you'd ever heard him speak in - to you at least.
He shuffled around a little bit so he was rested at your hip and then with steady hands placed under your back, he helped you sit up. The room tilted as you came upright but not nearly as violently as it had before.
Then, Remus guided you so that you were leaning back against the edge of the couch. He sat back on his knees, observing your form and you let out a heavy sigh, shaking with embarrassment - or maybe that was from the fever.
"Sorry about all this," you mumbled, shutting your eyes in the hopes of blocking out Remus' devastatingly concerned facial expression.
"It's not your fault," he was quick to reassure. "Besides, I'm a med student. You've given me an opportunity to test my knowledge on something practical."
You knew he was joking but your cheeks flushed nonetheless.
"It's really fine," he stated sincerely, upon noticing the mortification written across your face. "I just want to make sure you're okay. Your fever is pretty high."
"It is?"
He chuckled half-heartedly. "Yes. I would recommend that next time you don't take a scorching hot shower when your temperature is already at 39 degrees."
You cringed. "So this whole fainting ordeal could've been avoided then?"
"In theory, yes."
You groaned and covered your face with your hand. "Well on that note, I think I'm just going to go to bed."
You moved to pull yourself up but Remus rushed to grasp your arms on the way.
"Woah, hey, let me help you. You shouldn't be moving around too much yet."
"Right, sorry," you uttered awkwardly.
"It's okay. Here," with gentle precision, Remus got to his feet and lifted your arm around his shoulders. With so little energy remaining, you weren't bothered to be self-conscious as you leaned your weight against him and the two of you hobbled down the hall into your room.
When he deposited you into your bed, you immediately curled up in the sheets, shutting your eyes.
However, they popped open once again when you felt something cool press against your forehead only moments later.
You looked up to see Remus retreating from your room after laying a cool towel across your feverish forehead. As you drifted off into a fitful sleep, your last thought was about how he'd never been in your room before. You wondered if you'd remembered to tidy it.
--
You were running through a dark dense forest. Something was chasing you. You couldn't quite make out what it was but you knew it was angry.
You tried to move faster but as you ran, the forest grew wider and longer and darker. The branches were becoming thicker, they scratched your arms as you waded through the trees. You could hear the creature growling behind you. It was getting closer. You were panting and sweating, pushing yourself as fast as you could go but it felt as though the forest floor was covered in sand, your feet sinking into it every time they hit the ground.
You pushed on, carrying yourself forward, willing yourself to pick up the pace.
Then the ground dropped away completely. A cliff ledge had emerged in front of you and before you could stop yourself, you'd reached it.
Then you were falling.
--
You awoke with a start, gasping and panting for air. You were drenched in sweat, tangled up in your crumpled bed sheets. It was too hot, almost unbearably so. You thrashed around frantically for some semblance of relief.
It was at that moment, your door creaked open and a tentative Remus entered your room. He froze when he noticed you were awake and gaping at him with wide eyes.
"I just came in to check on you. How are you feeling?"
You went to respond but were overtaken with a slew of coughing that wracked through your body. Remus was at your side in an instant, a gentle hand placed on your back as you rode out the fit.
"I think it's time for some medicine," he mumbled under his breath, likely directed more towards himself than you.
It was then that you noticed the tray of items he'd placed on the table beside your bed. There was a bottle of water and an assortment of medicines as well as a thermometer which he picked up and proceeded to press into your ear.
You were so out of it, practically delirious with fever, that it took you a moment to realise how unusual this situation was. Remus - the same roommate who had been consistently cold and abrasive towards you in the months since you moved in - was now sitting at your bedside taking care of you while you were ill. It was completely unexpected, although you had to admit, not unwelcome. Something inside you stirred at the care he was showing you.
The pulled away, humming disapprovingly at the reading. You watched him with wide eyes as he busied himself reading medicine labels.
"Here, take these," he told you and dropped an assortment of pills into your hand. Then he uncapped the water bottle and handed it to you.
After you'd taken the medicine he gave you, he encouraged you to nestle back down under your covers and he pulled your duvet up to your chin.
"Try to get some sleep. Hopefully you'll feel better with a bit of rest," he told you.
He then turned, beginning to walk towards the doorway but you grabbed a hold of his wrist before he was able to leave.
"Remus," you muttered weakly, looking up at him with big, imploring eyes. Maybe it was the medicine or the fever, you weren't really sure, but an unwarranted confidence had begun to possess you.
He turned to look at you, his eyebrow raised in concern.
"Will you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep?"
He paused for a moment, clearly surprised as he pondered the request. Then he looked back at you, taking in your pathetic form and he sighed, his shoulders relaxing.
"Okay. I can do that."
You wriggled over a little, patting the left side of your bed. Remus hesitantly took a seat on top of the covers, looking very out of place in your bedroom.
Subconsciously, you edged towards him, drawn into his body heat as you moved to a comfortable position.
Your eyes grew heavier as the effects of the medicine began to take hold. However, as sleep claimed you, a few last words rolled off your tongue before you could stop them.
"Why don't you like me Remus?"
He turned to you, raising an eyebrow as his gaze cast over your form.
"I mean, I try really hard to be your friend and I want us to be closer but you always treat me like you don't care. I don't know what I've done wrong."
Remus sighed heavily. "That's not true, Y/n. I do care about you. I just... I was worried that when you moved in, the dynamic with my friend group was going to change and I didn't know how to deal with it. But I'm sorry that I took it out on you. It was my issue, not yours and I should've been kinder. The truth is, I-"
He was cut short when you let out a congested snore beside him. He looked down to notice that your breathing had evened out and you'd drifted off into a semi-peaceful sleep, your warm head pressed up against his hip.
He couldn't suppress the fond smile that crossed his features at the sight. With a feather-light touch, he leaned down and pressed a small kiss to your forehead.
--
It was just past one in the morning when Sirius returned from a gig with his band at a Pub down the road.
It had been a good night. The crowd was energetic and they didn't mess up any of their set-list. It was a great show and he'd hung around afterwards for a couple of drinks and a bit of flirting with a few of the girls who'd been in the front of the crowd. However, despite the success of the evening, something felt like it was... missing somehow.
Even sitting across from an eager and curvaceous ginger, with a free beer in hand, his mind couldn't help but linger on... you. This was something that had happened more times then he cared to admit over the past few weeks.
To his own surprise, he'd turned down her advances in favour of heading home to your company. He hoped you'd still be awake as you sometimes were at this time on a Friday night. He expected to find you binge-watching Modern Family in the living room with a glass of wine in hand.
However, when he arrived back at the house, he was disappointed to find the space void of human life.
He took off his leather jacket and hung it on the rack by the door as his eyes scanned the empty living room. When he walked down the hallway, he was happy to see that there was a faint light coming from under your door.
He carefully pushed it open, not wanting to disturb you if you were writing. To his surprise, the sight he was met with was far from the one he expected.
There was Remus, sitting on your bed, reading a book in the soft glow of your bedside lamp while you were practically curled up in his lap, your breathing ragged as you slept.
Remus looked up to meet his friend's wide eyes as he observed the scene before him.
"Oh, hi. You're back earlier than expected."
Sirius blinked at him for a moment, trying to act nonchalant as he regained his bearings.
"Ah yeah. I guess I just wasn't feeling it tonight," then he gestured towards you. "Is she okay?"
Remus just nodded, sending his friend a soft smile. "Yeah. She's a little under the weather but seems to be a little better now."
He brushed a few fingers over your forehead, stroking some hair away from you eyes in the process as he got a gage of your temperature.
Sirius' heart clenched in a way he couldn't quite make sense of as he watched the moment unfold.
"She had a pretty high fever earlier," Remus explained. "But we managed to get it down."
"Ah, right," Sirius muttered, leaning against the doorframe. "Is... um, is there anything I can do? or..."
Remus gently shook his head. "Thanks for the offer but I think we'll be fine."
"Okay, well... I'll leave you to it then," Sirius stated with a tight-lipped smile.
"Okay, goodnight. Sleep well, Sirius."
"You too, Rem," He responded, closing the door behind him.
He let out a huff of air once he was out of earshot. There were a bunch of unexplainable feelings swirling inside of him. Was he jealous? No that wasn't it. It was something else. An odd sort of ache that lingered inside of him, a yearning for something that he couldn't quite place.
All he knew was that he didn't like it.
--
Taglist:
@hisparentsgallerryy @navs-bhat @shushbruv @magicwithaknife @eeviee4 @notapoetjustscar @gugggu6gvai @robertsmithclone @ilovesugurugeto69 @taytayy178 @its-notkiee @bugworldsworld @switchingfandomslikecrazy @evangelquill, @delusional-4-fake-people, @ch4rlotte35, @insideoutjulie, @hiireadstuff, @laniirackssss, @starrystormwritings, @strategicsweetheart, @1800brat, @sammyreid, @frootloops1213, @ill-be-okay-soon-enough, @loveelylani, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @that-gay-person-27, @serenadingtigers, @lily-mylove
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latin5mamii · 5 months ago
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warm.
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warnings: long chapter but i think you like them
genre: fluff, cuddle session
summary:A cuddle session with your needy boyfriend is just more than enough.
author's note:I know i've been inactive these days but with school and everything it's just impossible😔...but here you go this fluffy and comforting one -shot that i hope you'll like! If you have any other fluff idea about Jude or any other player that i write for please let me know!🤍 ( i need to write fluff these days...)Plus please don't ask about the third pic please...
·  •   ·   .         ·   . °   ★ .  ·       • ·  °   ·☆. *✷ ✶°   *   ° •   ✯      • *  ** .   .°  °  °   .    .* .        
“C’mere,” Jude murmured, his arms open wide, just for you.
You stood in the doorway, watching him sprawled out on the bed, his head propped up on one arm, the other patting the empty spot beside him. His eyes met yours, a lazy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Without a word, you walked over, crawling under the covers next to him. Before you could fully settle in, he was already pulling you close. His arms wrapped snugly around your waist, pulling you against his chest, your legs tangling under the blankets.
“You’re warm,” you mumbled, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, the familiar scent of him immediately soothing.
Jude chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Good, because you’re always cold,” he teased, his fingers tracing slow patterns across your back. “You’re like a little human ice block.”
You laughed softly, nudging him with your knee. “Rude.”
“Just being honest,” he said with a grin, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. “But lucky for you, I’m always warm, so it works out.”
You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. The two of you settled into a comfortable silence, the kind where no words were needed. His fingers continued their lazy journey along your spine, the rhythm of his breathing steady and soothing.
After a few moments, you felt him shift beneath you, his hand sliding down to your hip as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Missed you today,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
His words were soft, almost like an afterthought, but they made your heart swell. You smiled against his neck, your breath warm against his skin.
“I missed you too,” you murmured back, your voice quiet, almost as if you didn’t want to disturb the peaceful bubble that had formed around the two of you. You shifted a little, resting your head more comfortably against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. It was a rhythm you had grown to love, one that never failed to calm you.
Jude’s arms tightened around you ever so slightly, like he was afraid you might slip away if he didn’t hold on just a little closer. His hand moved up to your hair, fingers threading through the soft strands in gentle strokes. You could feel the quiet affection in his touch—unhurried and patient, the kind that didn’t need words to be understood.
You melted at his touch, leaning into him as he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, soft and lingering. There was something about the way Jude kissed you, like he had all the time in the world, like nothing else mattered but the moment you were in.
His lips trailed down to your jawline, leaving a series of gentle kisses that made your heart race just a little faster. You sighed contentedly, your fingers slipping into his curls, twirling the soft strands between your fingertips.
“You always do that,” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.
“Do what?” you whispered back, a small smile tugging at your lips.
“That,” he breathed, his hand sliding down to your hip, his thumb gently tracing circles through the fabric of your shirt. “You play with my hair when you think I’m asleep.”
You chuckled softly, your fingers stilling for a moment before brushing another curl away from his forehead. “I like the way it feels,” you admitted, your voice quiet, almost shy.
Jude hummed, a deep sound of contentment vibrating through his chest. “I like when you do it,” he whispered, his lips brushing the skin just below your jaw. “Feels nice.”
You smiled against his skin, your fingers continuing their gentle motions. Jude’s thumb sketched lazy circles on your hip, and you could feel his breathing slow, as if he was on the edge of falling asleep. The room was quiet, save for the soft rustling of the sheets and the occasional sigh from him. Your fingers continued their slow dance through his hair, your mind wandering to how easy this felt, being wrapped up in him, his presence always so steady and reassuring.
After a while, Jude’s voice broke the silence again, this time softer, almost like he wasn’t fully awake. “Stay like this… don’t move.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered back, leaning in to press a kiss against his collarbone.
He exhaled softly, his arms tightening just a fraction around you, as if he wanted to keep you even closer than you already were. It was in moments like this that you realized how much he craved the quiet, the stillness.
“I mean it,” he murmured after a beat, his voice low and drowsy. “Don’t want to fall asleep if you’re not here.”
You smiled at his words, feeling the warmth in your chest grow even more. It wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that, but it never failed to tug at your heart. Jude had a way of making the simplest moments feel like they held the entire world. His need for you wasn’t loud or overwhelming, but quiet and steady, like the beat of his heart beneath your cheek.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you repeated softly, shifting slightly to tilt your head up to look at him. His eyes were half-closed, his lashes brushing the tops of his cheeks, and his lips were curled into that soft, lazy smile you adored.
He blinked slowly, eyes barely open, but you could still see the glint of affection in them. “Good,” he murmured, his thumb resuming its slow, rhythmic circles on your hip. “Because if you did, I’d have to chase you down.”
A laugh bubbled up from your chest at the thought. “You? Chase someone down? You can barely get out of bed in the morning.”
Jude huffed, his sleepy smile widening into a grin. “I’d chase you for sure. Might take me a while, but I’d get there eventually.”
You giggled, resting your chin on his chest and looking up at him with a playful gleam in your eyes. “Oh yeah? How long do you think it’d take you?”
He squinted as if he were seriously considering the question, his fingers still idly tracing patterns along your back. “Depends on how fast you’re running. If you’re sprinting, maybe an hour. If you’re walking, I’d say… ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes? You think I’m that slow?” You gasped in mock offense, gently poking him in the side.
Jude’s body shook with quiet laughter as he caught your hand and pulled it to his chest, keeping it there. “Nah, it’s not that you’re slow, it’s just that I’d be really motivated. I’d catch you quicker than you think.”
“Oh, so you’d be fast for me?” you teased, your smile widening as you watched the way his eyes crinkled at the edges.
“For you? I’d be unstoppable,” he replied with a sleepy confidence, his free hand moving up to cup your cheek. His thumb brushed over your skin in a way that made your heart skip a beat. “Nothing could keep me from catching you.”
You felt a soft blush rise to your cheeks at his words, and you buried your face back into the crook of his neck to hide it. Jude always knew how to say the right thing, even when he was half-asleep. It wasn’t fair.
“You’re ridiculous,” you mumbled into his skin, your lips brushing against his collarbone.
“And you love it,” he teased, his voice low and warm.
You smiled against his neck. “Maybe.”
“Not maybe. Definitely,” he said with a lazy grin, and you could feel the rumble of his laugh in his chest. “You definitely love it.”
You huffed, pretending to be annoyed, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. Jude had a way of getting under your skin, but in the best possible way. He was right—you did love it. You loved the way he teased you, the way he made you laugh, the way he held you like you were something precious. It was all so easy with him, so natural.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered, your voice muffled by his neck.
He chuckled, his chest vibrating beneath your cheek. “I know. That’s why I get away with so much.”
You lifted your head just enough to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, so you admit it? You know you get away with stuff?”
Jude gave you an exaggeratedly innocent look, his lips twitching as he tried to suppress a grin. “Who, me? I’m an angel.”
You snorted, shaking your head. “An angel, huh? You’re more like a menace.”
He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if you’d wounded him. “A menace? That’s harsh. I’m deeply offended.”
You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled at the sight of him being so playful, so at ease. Moments like this, where it was just the two of you tangled up in each other, teasing and laughing, made you realize how lucky you were to have him. He made everything better, even the quiet moments.
“Okay, fine. You’re not a menace,” you conceded, resting your head back on his chest. “But you’re definitely not an angel either.”
“I’ll take that,” Jude murmured, his hand drifting back to your hair, his fingers resuming their gentle strokes. “As long as you’re here, you can call me whatever you want.”
 You didn’t need to say anything else, didn’t need to fill the silence with more teasing or banter. Just being here with him was enough ,more than enough.
·  •   ·   .         ·   . °   ★ .  ·       • ·  °   ·☆. *✷ ✶°   *   ° •   ✯     
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lovegasmic · 1 year ago
Note
Making satoru squirt and him making fem reader squirt. I'm dying for some switch content
⭒ mdni. mutual overstimulation, whiney Satoru my beloved. ( i had to pause writing at least 5 times to scream in my pillow ) please read the first two tags lmao
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“b-baby, p-plea-se, I can’t, not anymore, a-ah!” Satoru sobs quite loudly to be honest, his eyes are glossy and filled with tears, the rim of them slightly reddened and matching the color of his bitten lips from endless hours of overstimulation. you’ve probably sucked the strength out of him through his dick, since his hands weakly push against your forehead in a failed attempt to keep you away from his throbbing length, “j-just pull it out, ah-a!”
“how many so far?” you giggle, pulling his cock out between your lips with a loud pop and getting in return a grateful sigh out of your boyfriend, one that doesn’t last long as your palm comes to rub circular motions on his tip, smearing the remaining cum all over the swollen flesh.
“d-dunno... ngh! haa, it’s too much!” he chokes on his own sobs, arching against the couch backrest so his heaving chest glistens with sweat under the living room lightbulb, his thighs squeeze your sides tightly, kicking and fighting the intense mixture of pain and pleasure running through his flustered pale body from the tip of his cock. you’ve never seen your boyfriend so worked up and overstimulated, all whiney —more than usual if you had to admit— but he looked absolutely cute begging for mercy.
“just one more, c’mon, and i’ll let you go” you smirk pressing your lips to the underside of his messy cock, feeling the veins throb under your tongue and palm warm up from where it continues to rub on his tip.
“n-no! stop please, feels weird!” Satoru begs, his body curving so he hovers over your body, so close to your face you’re able to watch his eyes open wide in shock, panting loudly and holding onto your hair for support barely seconds away from half screaming and shooting a translucent and diluted cum-like liquid in hard jets that landed on your face and the floor.
“wha—” you mutter back, staring in surprise at how your boyfriend’s body flops back against the couch, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon, “Satoru... did you just squirt? ” it comes out as a giggle, still dumbfounded from what just happened.
he doesn’t reply, and you’re a bit worried that he might have fainted, deciding to sit on his lap and observe his unfocused eyes staring up at the ceiling.
“Toru?” you softly slap his cheek, biting back a grin “are you dead?”
your boyfriend is a box of surprises, that’s for sure, but something that never failed to amaze you, even though you’re well aware of, is his incredible strength and stamina, yes, he might look all brain fried right now, but you should have expected for him to flip you over in the blink of an eye, pushing you underneath his body and spread on the couch with one leg over the backrest and the other bent so far it almost touched your ear.
“i told you to stop” Satoru growls, hands hooking under your thighs, positively bending you in half with his fattening cock dangerously close to your dripping cunt.
you laugh breathlessly, pushing the damp hair out of his eyes and slicking it back to watch how his bright blue eyes are now slightly darkened and almost disappearing around his blown out pupils, “please..., that was so fucking hot”
“we’ll see if you say the same after I make you squirt and beg” his voice is erratic, deeper and a bit dangerous, barely giving you time to process his words before he’s plunging deep into your pussy with a broken moan, he might act all dominant now, but the way his thighs shook and cock twitch told another story.
“don’t exaggerate! it wasn’t t-that ba-ah!” you get to mutter, cut by Satoru’s hard and precise thrusts inside your sopping wet cunt, moving in frenzy while choked out sobs came out of his mouth, drunk in the feeling of your tight hole squeezing him.
“so good, oh my fucking god!” your boyfriend moans, caging your body underneath his by pressing almost his whole weight on top of you, allowing only his hips to fuck into you with a loud wet sound from where his balls slam against your slick coated ass, barely rising before he’s back deep inside your walls, continuously slamming directly against your g-spot.
“S-satoru, i’m sorry alright, b-but please! slow down!” you cry out, begs falling on deaf ears as the man thrusts never falter, continuously driving you insane, and himself into the border of crying from fucking his overstimulated sensitive cock inside your pretty pussy.
“ah, ah! i’m gonna cum again” he sobs, ignoring your screams and nails digging on his back, and instead wrapping his arms around your thighs, bending you in half as he mounted you with whines and whimpers coming out of his lips, “uh, feels amazing, i’m going insane” is the last thing Satoru says before digging his teeth in your neck and cumming drily inside your pussy, the position causing his cock to bump and twitch directly against your g-spot and forcing your own orgasm out.
a loud beep rang in your ears at the same time your eyes clouded, unaware of the force of your own squirt gushing out and dropping from Satoru’s toned chest and flushed cock, you couldn’t hear a sound, but were certain you screamed quite loudly, only a couple of minutes after, once he knew you were a bit more lucid Satoru dared exhale a soft “payback” directly against your ear.
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totheblood · 9 months ago
Text
white horse
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pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary: spencer notices a change in you and helps you in his own spencer way
warnings: mostly fluff, grief mentions.
a/n: wrote this short thing to fix my spencer reid obsession! AI AUDIOS in the fic also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses
wc: 1k
"my heart always wants to run."
Spencer was unfocused.
The hum of the air conditioner in the precinct wasn’t enough to drown out the thousands of thoughts in his head. What he should have been doing was analyzing the geographical profile of the current unsub, maybe even collecting witness statements or completing paperwork, but no. Spencer Reid was unfocused on the case and completely focused on you.
Ever since Hotch presented the case your entire body language had changed. It was like you had folded in on yourself, deflated in a way that made Spencer’s heart crunch. On the flight to LA, you nervously bit at your nails as the team spoke, bouncing ideas off each other, not contributing to the conversation like you usually did. You took a backseat in this case and for the life of him, Spencer couldn’t figure out why.
The minute you joined the BAU you were as elusive as they came. You barely spoke about yourself, never attended group gatherings, and kept conversations strictly professional. Spencer used to brainstorm reasons as to why you were so reserved, but he stopped once he started thinking of ways to get you to like him.
He would bring you the mini muffins from the cafeteria that were always sold out by noon, but you would always politely decline and claim you had just eaten. He would sit next to you on the jet and make small talk to which you replied with one-word answers. He always made an effort to include you in conversations not pertaining to work but you just would not budge. The only time he got a glimpse into the real you was when he made a stupid off-hand joke about Aristotle and you chuckled from your desk. He did his best to ignore the feeling that swelled in his chest. 
Now he was getting a glimpse into your life in a way that he didn’t expect. You were on edge. Something about this case was personal to you. He noticed it in the way you took small gasps every time a new body was found, or how you opted to do paperwork instead of being in the field. As someone who has seen you do a million takedowns with a smile on your face, Spencer knew something was wrong when you opted to stay back. The unsub was kidnapping pairs of sisters, murdering one, and letting the other live. It was gruesome and cruel, and he was accelerating. Spencer should have been doing literally anything to help, but his attention was on you.
“I can feel you staring,” you breathed from your place at the large conference table, not looking up from the paperwork. 
“Oh, uh-” Spencer fumbled as he sat up, “I’m not- I wasn’t really staring, I would say I was observing.”
You put your pen down and looked up at him, eyes squinted as you looked at his face, “Why?”
There was an edge to your voice, like you were already pissed and he was just making it worse. 
“Well, you usually write faster, you have a notch in between your eyebrows like you’re thinking really hard about something, or trying not to. And you, uh, scratch the back of your ear when you’re nervous,” he blurted out, sitting up straighter, “and uh, I wanted to make sure you were… okay,”
His last sentence made you sit up straighter as your whole face softened. You looked down at the papers in front of you then back up at him, “I didn’t realize anyone noticed,” you whispered voice low.
“Well,” he started, getting up and moving to sit down next to you, “you’re one of us… aaand we’re profilers, we kind of notice these things.”
You let out a small laugh as you shook your head and looked up at him. His hazel eyes were practically sparkling as he stared at you. If you were being completely honest, it was intimidating. 
“I’m sorry, I’ve been,” you squint your eyes, thinking of the word to think of, “distant. I’m just not used to all of this, it’s overwhelming.”
“No, it’s okay,” he said almost instantly, voice soft, “This job is a lot, I don’t blame you. But today… this case,” his voice trailed off.
You took a deep sigh, resting your hands in your hands as you shut your eyes for a minute before you spoke, “My sister… she died. I don’t want to talk about it but, this case reminds me of it. Reminds me of her.”
“I understand,” Spencer hummed, in such a soft voice that it almost instantly soothed you.
“God, it happened so long ago I just don’t understand why I can’t get over it,” you shook your head, rubbing at your face before speaking again, “it’s like every time I remember it, I shut down. It’s like I’m broken or something.”
Spencer paused for a moment, looking you over before speaking, “Did you know that grief can actually alter your brain chemistry? Research has shown that the intense emotions associated with grief can increase levels of cortisol which can impact memory and cognitive function. In fact, there's evidence suggesting that the brain of a grieving person might resemble that of someone with a traumatic brain injury.”
You looked over at him, eyes a little wide as if you were taking in everything he just said. 
“I don’t know if that helps but-” Spencer started but was cut off by the sound of your voice. 
“It helps,” you breathed a laugh, “it really helps, so uh, thanks.” 
“You know, I’m always here if you need someone to talk to-” He spoke before tumbling over his words, “I mean we’re all here if you need someone, not just me but all of us.” 
You gave him a tight-lipped smile which he returned, “Thank you, Spencer,” you looked back at your paper before glancing back at him, “I might take you up on that offer.”
With his cheeks tinged pink, he nodded, picked up his messenger bag and exited the precinct conference room where Derek was stood in the doorway, clapping a hand on his back as he exited, “You’re in deep, pretty boy,” he commented with a laugh. 
“Shut up,” Spencer said under his breath, his cheeks now growing a shade or two darker. 
You had said maybe the most you ever had to him in your entire four months of working there and Spencer left the room blushing. He was for sure in deep.
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bigfatbimbo · 5 months ago
Note
Once again , please tell me if you're uncomfortable writing it, but Ford being so starved of touch, having so many places of stimulation touched on his body and being praised that he's accidentally cumming very quickly in his pants during a heavy make out session!
He says a little "Oh! :( " when it happens.
He feels very mortified and ashamed, tries to hide it first to make it unnoticeable (he failed big time at it). His girlfriend reassures him, tells him it's okay, it's hot and there's nothing to be ashamed of. ❤️😭
-🌌
Work Break
700 words,, Stanford x reader
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a/n — Couldn’t think of a song title this time, I feel out of character. Also this isn’t proofread.
warnings — NSFW, dom!reader, at what point in the series this takes place is unclear, gender neutral!reader, sub!ford
summary — Reader helps Ford take a break from work, he gets a little excited.
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You kiss up his jawline and land on his check before he decides to protest, “I have mountains of work that I have to get back too—“
“Just wait, baby,” You make your way over to his mouth, feeling that he’s about to abject again, and so you roll your hips ever so slightly on his slap.
He was half-hard from the attention, and he sucked in breath when you did it. A paper was still in one hand, as he’d refused to give in yet. 
“Y/n—“ He warned, voice now shaky, but was cut off with a disgusting kiss on his lips. 
Your hands explored his body, caressing his chest, and tracing on his arms, before settling on his pecks. For a nerd, he had a wonderful body. You always thought that. 
You broke away from the kiss, drawing a sound of disappointment from Ford, which he tried to cover up by clearing his throat.
“You deserve this, you know,” You remind, tugging at his collar to flash a little bit of skin on his neck. You needed a place to sink your teeth into.
“Don’t be absurd, i’ve barely gotten anything done today. I deserve a slap on the wrist and an order to get back to work— ah— ah—“
You sank into his neck while he was talking, and licked the spot after you were done, “You know that’s not true, Ford.”
And you were being honest. Whenever a new project caught his attention, he acted like it was the end of the world all over again. 
“You’ve done so much already, it’s coming along good,” You pluck the papers out of his hands either mild protest from Ford, and take his hand afterwards.
“Your— doing— so— good—“ You plant a kiss on every one of his fingers inbetween words, Ford blushes and looks away, muttering something about how he’s ‘not necessarily doing good, barley done anything..’ 
To make the make out session a little more to Ford taste, you take his other hand and do the same thing. This time, rolling your hips ever-so-slightly against his, now fully hard, cock.
He whimpered, and you took the opportunity to interlock lips with him again. Pushing your mouths together—with excessive spit, if you’re being honest—you continued the slight roll of your hips he seemed taken with.
At some point, your hands let go of his, and went to his hair. You deepened the kiss once more. In between breaths, you commented things like, “So good, ford,” “You’re so beautiful,” “So smart, baby.”
The entire time Ford had been whimpering into your kiss, hands now placed on the side of your hips and grasping at the fabric on your shirt. His pants had tightened noticeably during this time, and he was hoping you wouldn’t notice the precum beginning to stain the top of his pants. 
You had a way of turning his brain to mush that, surprisingly, he didn’t just allow. He craved. Your attention was positively unmatched, especially when your moving like that, or how your tongue his doing that thing he likes, or how your saying such sweet things and— 
 Oh.
Ford whined uncharacteristically and buried himself in your kiss. His hands moved you down on his lap so you wouldn’t notice what happened. 
It didn’t work. You opened your eyes with a quizzical look and tapped the crotch of his pants, then breaking away fully to look down. 
He was still hard, but it was apparently he’s finished earlier by the embarrassing stain on his slacks.Poor thing. 
“I-i’m sorry, y/n. I got—“ he rubbed the back of his neck apologetically, “—carried away. I guess, uh, I should cleanup and… Oh god, i’m sorry—“
Your face looked sympathetic, as it guided his chin back to meet your gaze, “No, no, it’s fine, Ford really. It’s cute you got so excited.”
His looked lightened at this, but you continued before he could talk. 
“In fact, why don’t we do it right this time? If you’re up for round two.”
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mofongomuncher · 1 month ago
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𝘼 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧
POV: Telling Ekko you’re pregnant
Im gonna be posting a bunch of lil Ekko oneshots on Wattpad, I feel like this man doesn’t get enough stories and it irkssss me sm. So if you’d like to read more the link is at the end!!
I'm not all that good at writing, I’m also doing this for fun so please go easy on me. I'm hoping to get better as I keep writing. But I still hope you guys enjoy it!! :3
.
The Firelight base, hidden among the green thick fogs of Zaun, was Ekko's haven. A quiet—peaceful place from the chaos of the Undercity.
His little room at the top of his tree was where he could think, when the weight of leadership felt too heavy—he could sit, take a moment for himself for a little bit.
His room was filled with unfinished projects, blueprints and tools scattered all across his workbench, The lanterns and candles cast a soft, wam glow over the space, giving it a calming, almost ethereal atmosphere.
But tonight...tonight felt different.
Tonight, there was something heavy in the air.
Y/N sat on the edge of his bed, She had something she needed to say. Something that had been on her mind for days now. But the thought of how Ekko would react to it made her heart race like hell.
Ekko was seated at his workbench, tinkering with a device, his brows furrowed in concentration. When Y/N finally spoke, her voice barely rose above a whisper, it stopped him cold.
"Ekko," she began, and when he turned, the look on his face shifted. His precious brown eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, she saw his guard come down, just a fraction.
He stood, his usual cool confidence flickering for just an instant. "What's up doll? You've been acting different... is something wrong?"
Y/N hesitated.
Fuck This wasn't easy.
How do you tell someone you love so much that their life is about to change forever?
But she couldn't keep it to herself anymore.
"Ekko...I'm pregnant."
Ekko froze. His expression was unreadable for a second before his eyes narrowed, brows drawing together. His mind that was always fast, was now working overtime, processing what the hell she just said.
For a second, the silence felt like a punch to the gut, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on both of them.
"You're... pregnant?" He repeated, his voice low, almost to himself, like he wasn't sure whether to believe it or not. He just stood there, trying to find something to say but was unable to form the words just yet.
Y/N nodded, swallowing hard.
"I found out a little while ago. I just didn't know how to tell you. Hell, I didn't even know how to process it myself."
Ekko rubbed his forehead, He was silent for a moment longer before he spoke, his voice rougher than usual, but it was tinged with concern. "I... I'm not sure what to do with this Y/N...Fuck...I didn't even expect to see this coming.."
Y/N's heart clenched at the uncertainty in his voice. She had been afraid of this, of him not knowing how to react.
she took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady. "I didn't expect this either. I'm scared too Ekko. But I don't—I can't to do this alone. I need you."
Ekko didn't move right away, his gaze still locked on her. His hands fidgeted with a loose gear on the workbench, his mind was clearly in a battle between his responsibilities and the unexpected future baby unfolding in front of him.
"Damn..." he muttered, shaking his head, his usual confident demeanor cracked for a moment.
"...I—I don't even know what kind of father I'd be. I barely have time to think straight with everything that's going on lately." His voice softened, but it was raw, honest—Ekko was always the kind of person who wasn't afraid to show what he was feeling around me, even if it made him vulnerable.
"But I'm not gonna back down from it..."                   "Not from you."
Y/N felt the tension in her chest start to melt away as he spoke.
She stepped closer, her eyes softening, the relief obvious in her expression.
Ekko's eyes softened as he took a step closer, his hand gently cupping her face. "Whatever happens next, we'll figure it out..Like we always do." His smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
He leaned in a little closer, their foreheads brushing together. He seemed to take a moment to just soak it all in, before speaking again, softer this time.
"I love you Y/N."
Y/N's smile softened, feeling her heart swell. But before she could say anything, Ekko's voice had that hint of excitement. "And I'm gonna love our baby too. I'll teach 'em alll the important stuff."
He leaned back a bit, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Can you imagine? A little mini us running around just causing all the trouble, and I'm the one trying to keep it all together while you just—well, you'll be egging 'em on won't you?"
Y/N raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a playful grin. "Oh absolutely! That little ball of happiness is gonna have all of your genius and a whole lot of my sass... We'll have a little firecracker on our hands."
Ekko's grin grew, the playful energy between them settling into something warm and steady. "They'll be perfect." He stepped in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, then slowly brushing his lips against hers in a gentle, lingering kiss.
When they pulled away, he smiled, his hand gently resting on her cheek. "And if they're half as amazing as you, we'll be just fine."
Y/N's heart fluttered, her smile growing as she met his eyes. "I love you Ekko."
"I love you too Y/N"
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sunsburns · 1 year ago
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Plssss write something wehere reader and virgin Luke fuck
[nsfw 17+]
no need to tell me twice! this is sooo obviously loser!luke coded and i'm glad he's back in my corner. and let's be honest, he wouldn't have a damn clue where to put his hands the entire time...
luke just wants to touch you, all of you. and it makes you smile when you feel his hands trail from your cheeks, your neck, down your shoulders, and once he felt a little braver, he'd grasp at your chest, brows furrowed, and lips parted.
your skin is warm, and the weight of his hands on you has you mewling. you drop your head and look down at him. luke can barely keep his eyes open, but when you bring your hand to his chin, tilting his head up, he tries to look at you.
luke's eyes are glossy, clouded by a lustful haze. his curls stick to his forehead, a thin coat of sweat against his skin while soft, low groans spill from his lips.
you let out a breathless laugh, running your finger through his hair as you roll your hips. "f-fuck..."
he's panting, his hands running from your chest to your waist, then your hips, and shyly creeping near your ass, but not quite there. you kiss his teeth and lick into his mouth, grinning when he tries to follow your lips when you back away the slightest bit.
"c'mon, luke..." you huff, pressing your forehead against his. "i've been doin' all the work, care to help a girl out?"
he's bottomed out, buried inside you as you rock your hips against his. you hold onto his shoulders for support, legs aching, but the pretty sounds that slip from his lips make it all worth it.
it's been ungraceful and clumsy, wet kisses stolen between your movements, each of you moaning against the other's mouth. you wished it could've been a little more coordinated, especially after you spent a couple of days looking for a spot you knew no one else would find you and luke in. a clearing far enough from the camp, but close enough where you could still see the lake, where the grass was softer, and none of the trees had any stranded arrows or carvings from the blade of a sword or a knife.
the sun beat down on the two of you, hot and golden, tanning your skin while luke can barely look at you without becoming flustered.
"what..." he's staring at your lips, "what do i do? what do you want me to do?"
he's trying his best, you'll give him that. it makes you smile against his mouth nonetheless.
"put your hands here," you guide his palms back to your hips, and you give them a squeeze, "and hold tight. i want you to move your hips, baby."
luke nods, a bright red hue on his cheeks when you kiss him again. his hips roll into yours, and a drawled curse falls from his open mouth. luke pulls out, almost completely, enough that you panic and squeeze him tighter with your thighs, but then he pushes back into you, slowly, letting you savour it; he repeats the motion, faster, his curses morphing into sweet mumbles of your name each time he bottoms out. 
you raise your hips the next time he pulls out, meeting in the middle when he fills you back up. his hips slot against yours once more before he pulls away from you so he can suck in a breath and-
"shit. you're so- fuck." he shudders, eyes squeezed shut.
you can hardly breathe, the sun is too hot, and the air is too humid, but luke feels so good, even if each one of his thrusts was so uncoordinated you had to try to roll your hips against him again so he could find a rhythm. it was half-grinding, half-fucking, and a delicious drag of the curve of his cock against your walls. yeah, you could do this forever.
"feels so good, luke." you moan, a little louder than you hoped when luke finally built the courage to grab your ass. "you feel so good. don't stop."
"don't wanna," he can barely get the words out. he's trying to kiss your neck but misses, and his teeth knock against your collarbone, the beads of your camp necklace hitting his nose. his jaw clenches tightly, "fuuuck."
one of his hands slides up the span of your back until it reaches the back of your neck, fingers ghosting below your hairline. you get a good look at him, he's a little bolder now, eyes wider, but brows still furrowed. luke licks his lips and lets them fall into a soft pout, a broken moan escaping him once he realizes you're staring.
"gonna cum, luke?"
he's nodding, his curly hair falling over his eyes as his hips buck at the sound of your voice. "yeah... yeah, yes."
you almost feel bad when you push him by the chest until his back falls onto the blanket. he stares at you, surprised, maybe, face unreadable as you lean down over him and whisper, "you're gonna have to work a little harder for it."
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ultravjiolencee · 1 month ago
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𝗣𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀
pairing! fred weasley x grumpy and slytherin reader.
The dank, chilly potions classroom in the dungeons of Hogwarts was filled with the sound of bubbling cauldrons, scratching quills, and the low muttering of students reading from their textbooks. Professor Snape stalked between the rows of desks, his black robes billowing behind him like a shadow.
You sat at your usual spot near the back of the classroom, your slytherin crest visible on your robes as you focused on your neatly written notes.
You liked Potions. It required precision, patience, and quiet—all things you excelled at.
Fred Weasley, on the other hand, was decidedly out of his element.
Seated a few desks away from you, he was barely pretending to follow the instructions written on the board. His twin, George, had managed to skip the class today (something about “an urgent experiment”), leaving Fred to fend for himself.
Not that he minded. With George absent, Fred had a new focus.
Fred leaned forward in his chair, scribbling something on a piece of parchment. He glanced at you, who were diligently jotting down notes, your eyes narrowed in concentration. With a flick of his wand, he sent the note floating across the aisle until it landed neatly on your desk.
You frowned, startled, and glanced at the note.
Your initial instinct was to ignore it, but curiosity got the better of you.
You unfolded the parchment.
“Does Snape have a potion to fix bad attitudes? Asking for a Slytherin I know.”
You raised an eyebrow and glanced at Fred, who was grinning at you like a mischievous fox.
You rolled your eyes, crumpling the note and returning to your work.
Fred, undeterred, scribbled another note that appeared on your desk a few minutes later.
“You didn’t laugh. That’s bad for your health, you know. Laughter’s a great potion ingredient—works wonders for grumpy Slytherins.”
You pressed your lips into a thin line, fighting the urge to smirk. You grabbed your quill and scrawled a response before flicking the note back to him.
“Maybe you should test your theory on yourself, Weasley. Merlin knows you need it more than I do.”
Fred opened the note and chuckled softly, earning a glare from Snape, who paused mid-stride.
“Mr. Weasley,” Snape drawled, his voice as cold as the dungeon air. “Care to share what’s so amusing with the rest of the class?”
Fred quickly crumpled the note and stuffed it in his pocket, his face the picture of innocence. “Nothing, Professor. Just… uh, marveling at how inspiring your lesson is.”
Snape’s lip curled in distaste, but he moved on, clearly deciding Fred wasn’t worth the effort.
Then, he waited until Snape’s attention was elsewhere before sending another note.
“Nice save, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you if he catches you laughing at my genius.”
You sighed, but you couldn’t suppress the small smirk that tugged at the corners of your lips.
“Your ‘genius’ is going to get you a week of detention if you’re not careful.”
Fred read your response and grinned, scribbling another reply.
“Worth it. Especially if it gets you to smile. Are you smiling? Be honest.”
You hesitated before writing back.
“I’m smirking. That’s the best you’ll get.”
As the lesson neared its end and Snape began inspecting cauldrons, Fred decided to send one last note. This time, he took extra care with his handwriting.
“Listen, I know you’re too cool and mysterious to admit it, but you think I’m funny. Just say it once. Admit that Fred Weasley makes you laugh, and I’ll leave you alone for the rest of class.”
You stared at the note, your quill hovering over the parchment. After a moment’s hesitation, you wrote back.
“Fine. You’re not that bad. Happy now?”
Fred read your reply and flashed you a triumphant smile. He quickly added another line beneath your response before sending the note back.
“Extremely. But just so you know, I’m not leaving you alone. This is too much fun.”
You couldn’t help it—you laughed, maybe more from exasperation. It was a quiet, almost inaudible sound, but Fred caught it. His grin widened as if he’d won a great victory.
As the students packed up their supplies, Fred made his way over to you. You were stuffing your notes into your bag, your usual cool expression back in place.
“So,” Fred said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Admit it—you’d miss me if I weren’t in this class.”
“I’d miss the peace and quiet” you retorted, brushing past him.
Fred laughed, falling into step beside you.
“I’ll take it for a yes if that’s the best I can get from my favorite slytherin”
You didn’t respond, but as you reached the corridor, Fred thought he saw the faintest hint of a smile on your face.
And that, to him, was better than any potion he could ever brew.
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theereina · 3 months ago
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The End
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC
Wordcount: +2.8K
Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, adultery/infidelity, angst, heartbreak
A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels.
A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.
Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥
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“So, we're still on for dinner right?” Terry asked kissing Athena's cheek. “Of course, I just don't want you to cancel this time,” she said kissing his forehead.
They were in their bed facing each other. This was unfortunately becoming a recurring conversation for them. They would plan to have dinner together, and somehow, he would always have to cancel. Athena had spent so many nights on unplanned solo dates and was tired of it.
She understood Terry's work life, but he had yet to find a balance. “I'm sorry, baby. Forgive me. After all of this, I swear we’re takin’ a break. We can go wherever you want,” he said pulling her closer to him. His arms wrapped tightly around her body. This is what she wanted. This is what she was fighting so hard for.
They had been married six years, and she knew this man like the back of her hand. Athena knew when work got stressful for him. She knew when he was getting sick. She knew when his anxiety was about to flare. She knew everything, so why wouldn't he consider that she would know this, too? The secret he was hiding wasn't work-related. Those late nights weren't for business reports and last-minute contracts, unfortunately.
Athena had known for almost four months now. She kept her mouth shut thinking her husband would tell her, but he didn't. She loved him too much to let this come between them, but this was getting hard. All she wanted was for him to be honest, but now it felt too late.
“Alright, mister. I'm holding you to that,” Athena said snuggling into his chest. She was honestly taking it all in, committing things to memory— his smell, the way his breathing sounded, the patchiness of his beard, the strength of his calloused hands, and the sound of his voice in the morning. This couldn't be Athena's life. There was no way that this was the marriage she prayed so hard for. She wasn't asking for the perfect husband. Her bare minimum was honesty and communication, but Terry wasn't giving her either.
Athena began to doze off in Terry's embrace. The comfort he brought her would be something she would miss—. Why? “Terry, if something was wrong would you tell me?” she said moving to look up at him. “Hmm… What do you mean, baby?” Terry said looking down at her, loosening his embrace. “You’d tell me if you didn't love me anymore?” she asked as her face turned somber and flooded with sadness. “Oh, baby. I'll always love…,” Terry began.
ring ring
And, there it goes— that fucking phone. The one that goes off during every moment they have together. She could never have Terry to herself. He leaned back and picked up the phone. He stared at the screen, looking back at Athena. “Go ahead. I'll just go get ready,” Athena said with tears brimming in her eyes. She threw the covers back and rose from the bed. She knew this was one or two things— work or his other…
Athena walked into their bathroom and began her morning routine. She turned on the shower and stood at the sink. Clenching her fists against the counter, Athena let it out. Months of tears came flooding out. Every emotion had boiled over, and she couldn't take it anymore.
Today was the day. It was already planned out. In the next coming 12 hours, Athena's life would change.
*7 hours later
Terry was in his office waiting for the day to end. He had been on edge all day because of what Athena asked. Did she know? She couldn't know. He had covered his tracks. There was no way she could know.
knock knock
“Yes, come in!” Terry announced, sitting up in his office chair. “Sup, you still going to the party, tonight?” asked Terry's best friend Corbin. “Nah, I promised Athena a date. Can't miss this one,” Terry said twirling a pen between his fingers. “Never stopped you before,” Corbin mumbled under his breath. Terry's eyes shot up to meet Corbin's face. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Terry snapped.
Corbin took a deep breath. “You know exactly what I mean, T. Don't act stupid!” Corbin spat back. “Don't worry about what the fuck I got going on. Remember, we both have situations going on. I ain't the only one,” Terry said standing up from his desk. “You're right, but only one of us is married!” Corbin said squaring his shoulders. “So, fiancé means nothing to you? I wonder how Miranda would feel?” Terry taunted walking around his desk. “Let’s not compare situations. I definitely can't compete with the new add-ons you got,” Corbin said, tapping Terry in the chest. Terry slapped his hand away. Corbin raised his hands and backed away. “Fuck you!” Terry said leaning on the desk. “Whatever!” Corbin said backing out and leaving the office.
As Terry began to sink into his thoughts, his office phone rang. “Terry speaking,” he said. “Mr. Richmond, there is a woman here looking for you. I tried to tell her she needed an appointment, but…,” said Terry's receptionist. “Name?” Terry asked walking back to his office chair. “She said you'll know, and something about a little issue,” his receptionist replied. Terry froze. This was against their agreement. She was never supposed to show up at his home or office. What if Athena was here?
Terry clenched his jaw and squared his shoulders. “Send her in. Hold all calls until further notice,” he said, hanging up the phone.
*3 hours later
Athena was in her car, heading to her parent's home in Georgia. She had been crying the whole ride. She had packed up all of her stuff and was going back home. Her brother was driving behind her in the Uhaul she rented. She couldn't believe that this was her life right now. Athena pulled over into the gas station and pulled up to the pump. She sat in the car, waiting. Waiting for something. Anything.
Someone to wake her up.
Someone to pinch her.
Someone to tell her this wasn't real.
Something.
Athena was startled by her brother knocking on the window. She rolled down the window and looked at her brother. “Sis, you should've gotten someone else to drive,” he said reaching in to wipe her tears. “I'm okay. It gives me something to focus on,” she said dropping her head. “Nah, I'm calling one of my friends. He'll meet us here. He doesn't stay that far away. He'll drive the Uhaul while I drive you. Okay?” he lulled. “I'm okay,” she said. “No, ‘Thena. I'm calling him, and that's final. I don't trust you driving like this,” he said walking away and entering the gas station.
*1 hour later
Terry was rushing to get to the restaurant. Of course, he was late. He had stopped at a local store and picked up two bouquets. One was sunflowers while the other was red roses. He wanted to sweeten things over with Athena. He was aware that he had been fucking up lately.
As he pulled into the restaurant, he searched the parking lot for Athena's car. He couldn't see it anywhere. He circled the parking lot to be sure. He parked near the front and checked his phone before getting out. She hadn't called or texted. “Maybe she took an Uber or Lyft,” he said aloud to himself. He straightened the collar of his shirt and adjusted his tie. He reached over and grabbed the flowers before exiting.
As he approached the restaurant doors, he did one final scan of the parking lot. No Athena. He entered the oyster bar and approached the hostess's desk. “Table for two under Terry,” he said to the middle-aged black woman. “Yes, ouuu… almost missed our grace period. Cutting it kind of close there, darling,” she laughed. “Is the other guest not here? I mean, did someone not check in under the reservation, yet?” Terry asked pulling out his phone. “Uh, no. No one checked in under that reservation, sir,” she replied.
Terry was confused. Where the hell was Athena? She had texted him confirming that she was on the way to the restaurant, so where was she? He followed the woman to a booth in the rear of the restaurant. “Someone will be with you shortly,” she said after seating him. Terry sat down and immediately pulled his phone out again.
He immediately began to text Athena.
Message not delivered
Terry stared at the screen. How? He checked his service and made sure everything was on. He tried again.
Message not delivered
What the fuck was going on? He quickly tried to call Athena. It instantly went to voicemail. He tried again and got the same result. Terry called Miranda, Athena’s best friend and Corbin's fiancé.
Miranda answered, “Yes, Terry?” “Have you talked to to Athena?” he asked shifting in his seat. He was growing worried. Did something happen to her on the way here? “Of course, I did. She is my best friend after all,” she responded snidely. Terry immediately heard the tone of her voice. “Miranda, where is she?” he asked holding the bridge of his nose. “Gone!” Miranda blurted. “What do you mean gone?” Terry said. He was becoming visibly upset. The waiter began to approach the table, but Terry waved her away. “Exactly what the fuck I said,” Miranda snapped. “Miranda, don't fucking play with me right now!” Terry grunted into the phone. “Why don't you go home and check since you don't believe me,” Miranda said hanging up.
Terry pushed his chair back and grabbed the flowers from the table. Terry rushed out of the restaurant. He threw the flowers onto the passenger seat and climbed into his car. He needed to get home immediately.
*45 minutes later
Terry flung the front door of their home open. Athena's car wasn't in the driveway or the garage. This was starting to piss him off. He searched the entire first floor. Hearing what he thought were footsteps, he ran up the stairs and practically kicked open their bedroom door. It wasn't. Athena had left their bedroom window open and the heavy curtains were thudding against the wall. He rushed to the window and slammed it shut.
“Fuck! Athena! Where are you?” he yelled. As he turned around, he noticed a note on the bed. On top of the note was Athena's wedding ring. He sat on the bed prepared to read the note but stopped when he saw that their closet door was open. Athena's side was empty. Scanning the room, he realized that ALL of Athena's things were gone.
Terry pulled out his phone and tried to text and call Athena over and over again. Nothing had changed. He was still getting sent to her voicemail, and his messages were undelivered. Terry's heart sank for the first time that night— Athena had blocked him. He went to her social media accounts to be met with user not found. She had blocked him on everything.
Terry stood up from the bed furious and full of rage. There was no way Athena had just left him. Terry called Corbin, but he sent him to voicemail, too. Immediately, Terry's phone vibrated from a message notification.
Corbin: THEY KNOW!!!
That means Miranda knew and that ATHENA KNEW, TOO!
This couldn't be how everything played out. There was no way. Yes, his shit had gotten sloppy in the last few months, but how? Terry leaned on the bedroom dresser, letting his head fall into his hands.
He knew it was coming he just thought he had more time. More time to figure this shit out.
Terry looked up into the mirror attached to the dresser. He couldn't stand to look at himself. How could he let this happen? He slammed his fists onto the dresser, and the force cracked the glass. Terry looked up to see his reflection in the broken glass. His eyes lingered over himself before he punched the glass. Throwing his arms across the dresser, he sent everything to the floor. Glass began flying everywhere.
Terry threw himself onto the bed. Lying on his back, he could feel the heat coursing through his body. He felt his eyes growing heavy with tears. He looked over on the other side of the bed to see the note still resting there.
He picked it up and unfolded it. Pictures fell out and hit his chest. They were all pictures of him and— Eliza, his mistress. The woman he had been seeing for over two years. Terry flipped through the photos. He realized that the photos had to have been taken over a few months. How had she known this long?
Terry finally realized that Athena was asking questions because she already knew the answers. Terry's heart stopped at the last photo. It was him holding— TJ, him and Eliza’s 6-month-old son. Shit! She knew about the baby, too. That explains why she kept asking him why they were still waiting to start a family. He thought she was nagging, but in reality, she was hurt.
She knew he had a mistress and an outside child. He hadn't meant for this to happen. Eliza was only supposed to be a one-night stand, but it just kept happening. They kept seeing each other because she was friends with Corbin's mistress. They kept ending up at the same parties and clubs. He tried to break it off with her on more than one occasion. Then, something would happen with Athena and he would just go running back. This wasn't Athena's fault, but he felt it wasn't entirely his either— he thought. Athena kept having to travel back and forth to Georgia while her father was going through chemo. She was starting to work more hours. She was always tired. She never had time for him, on the other hand, Eliza was always right there— one call away and easy to access.
Terry held the letter in his hands and began to read.
Dear Terry,
I don't know what to say or how to start this, so here it goes.
To my love, I gave you my all for 9 years. I planned my life to sync with yours— as your wife and best friend. I wanted nothing more than to fulfill all of the promises we made each other throughout this lifetime.
I asked and asked, sometimes I maybe even begged for you to see it. I wanted you to care enough to see through my nagging and realize I was hurting. I was dying on the inside for months. I had to watch you be a lover to someone else while all I wanted was your comfort. I had to watch you be a father while you refused to allow me to even be a mother. You chose to postpone all of my dreams of having a family to work on your career. I let you do that because I loved you. All while you were standing in my face and sleeping in our bed knowing that you had one all along. It just wasn't with me.
Was I the problem? Was I not good enough? There wasn't a thing that you asked that I didn't do. I've been questioning my worth for months trying to see where I went wrong. Chasing you and begging you to love me like you once did. A love I know you're capable of, but I just haven't felt from you in a long time.
My heart was breaking every day with every question. I wanted you to tell me the truth. Be honest and give me hope that maybe this was a simple mistake. A mistake that we could work through together. But mistakes are made once. You were making a choice. A choice to love another woman and become a father outside of us.
With that being said, I can't hold anger in my heart for you we both know that. That’s something I'm not capable of. All I can offer you is forgiveness and peace. Peace to do whatever you want. I'm no longer in your way. Be free. This is the end. Our end.
P.S. After reading this letter, I hope you become a better man for the family you created. He's beautiful, by the way. He has his father’s eyes.
Love always,
Thena
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miniimight · 1 year ago
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Gotta admit the way you write midoriya is just so... Literally can't find the words to describe it. I had this scenario I wished to request of you it's okay if you don't want to do it. Midoriya with an significant other that hears people taking about them, not deserving of him and how they are using him for his fame and all, then he teaches them a lesson?
DEFENDING YOU the gossip around the office gets on his nerves a lil bit
with izukuuuuu :heart: + gn!reader
notes absolutely in love with this request ! thanks for reading my stuffs <3
a while after you were revealed as his girlfriend, izuku was faced with many backhanded comments about his relationship. sure, they were few and far between, but when they did happen he felt his self-control diminishing way faster than usual. especially if that person had the balls to say it to his face.
to be completely honest, he thought that everyone else should mind their own fucking business. he doesn't kid around when it comes to the people he cares about. the fact that he wants and needs you is enough.
but, nonetheless. people will still run their mouths.
it was another casual day in the office. you had the day off work and he was stuck at the agency headquarters, flipping through paperwork.
you were excited to see him. izuku had been holed up in work for what seemed like forever, and you were so happy to get the chance to spend time with each other during the coming weekend.
as you walked through the halls, you noticed the eyes following you. they were hard to miss, but they were part of the routine at this point. you soon found yourself in the elevator, head ducked as you pulled out your phone.
izu: you coming up soon baby?
you: yeah, i'm like 5 mins away
you: okay im in the lobby, heading up rn
izu: yayyy can't wait to see you, love :3
you smiled softly to yourself. when you looked up, the elevator was packed; all you could see were the backs of the seven or so individuals in front of you, pushing you into the corner. your stomach felt a little uneasy, thinking about how you'd have to tell these people to move to let you through, but you remembered izuku was on the top floor. there was no way they were all heading there.
the hushed voices of a few employees made your heart pound.
"you're talking about deku's s/o?"
"yeah! aren't they... i dunno. a little out of his league?"
"i'm saying! like i'd get it if they were maybe a model or something. but they're literally just a civilian. how disappointing is that? like uravity is right there."
"i'm sure they're just using him for his fame. he's in the field so much with other badass heroes, they probably barely get to see him. if deku wasn't deku, they'd dip in a heartbeat."
they all laughed.
you wanted to stop listening. flood your mind with meaningless thoughts to distract you. but you couldn't resist tuning in, feeding your insecurities and doubt.
the ding of the elevator saved you. they filed out of the elevator, leaving you with the cheerful jingle of the lift.
you were quiet as you walked down the long halls of the top floor, their words echoing in your mind. you knew they weren't true—and god, would izuku reassure the fuck out of you—but negativity was negativity. and negativity had a way of finding cracks and slipping through.
the giant glass doors slid over the tiled floor soundlessly, yet izuku's head popped up from behind all the papers and files at your arrival.
a huge grin bloomed on his face as he sped over to you, paperwork forgotten. "hello, honey. did you get up here okay?"
"yeah," you smiled and held up a takeout bag. "i got some snacks for us."
izuku's calculating gaze bore into you as he gingerly accepted the bag. "you alright?"
"hmm?" you tilted your head in confusion. of course he noticed. "yeah, i'm good." the last thing you wanted to do was stress him out even more.
his brows furrowed. he stepped closer to you, his hands resting on your waist. "don't lie to me, sweetheart." his tone was scolding but his eyes were gentle. "what's bothering you?"
you pursed your lips, sighing. "just a couple people talking about us, 'n how i don't deserve you—"
you felt him stiffen, his expression going cold.
"how i'm using you for the fame, blah, blah, blah." you forced a smile, trying to play it off in an amusing light. "you know, the usual."
izuku was tightlipped, responding only with a "hmm."
he was staring at the wall behind you, eyes narrowed as if he'd seen a villain or something. you knew that expression well.
you cupped his face, guiding him to look at you. "hey. it's okay, izu, i'm used to it. don't mind them, alright?"
izuku's gaze softened and he leaned into one of your palms, the other lifted off his face by his own hand. he pressed a little kiss to your wrist, rubbing his hand up and down your arm soothingly as you both walked out his office.
he decided to drop it, and just love the shit out of you as an apology for experiencing such disrespect. even if he did everything in his power to make sure everyone knew he belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him, he still felt guilty when people attacked you.
he still had many questions: who were they, what floor did they get off, and how can i discipline them? he usually felt sympathy for when employees messed up, but suddenly... he wasn't against firing them all.
the ride down to the lobby was filled with many adoring employees who giggled at the sight of the pro-hero, a phenomenon you were also very familiar with.
soon, you were gliding through the lobby, so close to freedom when he picks up on the idle chatter he hates so much.
"i think that's them!"
"it is. woah, his s/o is way more dull when you see 'em next to each other."
izuku grit his teeth. his eyes glanced down to you, seeing the way you blinked and pursed your lips. he suddenly paused. you walked forward a couple steps before you were tugged back by his stationary hand.
you looked at him curiously. "izu..?" your eyes darted around, lingering on the three that said those things about you.
he smiled, bending over you as he kissed your lips gently, pecking your forehead as well. "why don't you go to the car, love? i'll catch up in a second."
you gave him a warning look, noticing how he was drifting to where the three sat. "izu... really, let's just go."
he kissed you again and your head was swimming. "i'll only be a minute, angel. go on." he pat your back and watched as you left the lobby. when he turned around his expression was completely different.
he walked over to the three people, who instantly straightened at his approach. they shared glances with each other, both a little scared and confused.
"hello." izuku smiled, but there was no indication that he was happy. "i'm deku, and you all are..?"
they meekly listed their names, to which izuku took mental notes and nodded.
"great. uhm, i overheard you talking about my s/o?" he cocked his head to the side. "please, i'd love to hear your thoughts." he chuckles. "i'm kinda obsessed with them, or whatever."
"o-oh..." they stutter and avoid his gaze, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "no, it was nothing, really."
"hmm? nothing?" izuku and his months of public appearance training only made him more intimidating when angry; the joyless smile he wore as annoyance bubbled through him was ten times worse then any outright show of anger. "are you sure?"
"yes! promise." one nods eagerly.
he laughs mirthlessly and the three weakly chuckled along, thinking they were out of trouble. leaning close to them, his voice dropped into a low hum. "i'd like to keep it that way, yeah? let's not make them sad just so you could feel like you have an opinion about something that does not concern you whatsoever."
the three held onto each other, eyes rounded with shock as they listened to the pro-hero before them.
izuku's head tilted ever-so-slightly. "well?"
they began to trip over each other with their agreement, yes, of course! we wouldn't dream of it. consider it done! whatever you say!
izuku flashed his famous smile. "glad we got that sorted out. and just so that we're crystal clear, if i—or anyone for that matter—catch you talking down on my s/o again..." he pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing in thought. "i'd hate to have to terminate your contracts... it's a lot of paperwork, you know?"
they shook their heads, bowing deeply to the pro-hero. "never again, sir!"
"great!" izuku chirped. "bye!"
[]
your leg bobbed nervously in the car, wondering what izuku was doing and if you should go in there and see for yourself. just as you were about to act, you saw his green hair bob over the cars beside you, eventually coming into view.
you exhaled in relief as he slipped into the driver's seat, sighing happily. he turned to stare at you, leaning dreamily over the steering wheel. you smiled, though your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"you're so pretty." he sighed.
"i—" you blinked, laughing. "thank you, baby."
"i'm so lucky to have you..." he continued, leaning over the compartment separating your seats.
you giggled, matching his energy. "mhmm."
he gave you a lopsided smile. "you deserve everything i have and more."
your face felt warm as you shy away from him, knowing why he was spouting all these affirmations. his fingers hooked under your chin, tilting your face. his hair brushed against your forehead as he captured your lips. he grinned at you when he pulled away, staring at you with such adoration.
"so..." you ignore your racing heart and try to regulate your breathing. "are you gonna tell me what happened?"
he squished your cheeks before turning back in his seat, starting the car. "nope!"
you smiled and rolled your eyes, uncertainties gone and doubt erased. in the end, you weren't ever bothered. and strangely, you never saw those three faces again.
© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3
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shanefuckingscott · 5 days ago
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Sheriff Grayson 🎀🎀🎀
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Okay, I kinda wanna write Grayson fics, would you guys be into that? Okay, I'm just gonna keep writing police mommy
Warning: Slight Smut. Marcus. Can't tell the difference between colleague and coworker. barely proofread
🚫Men and Minors DNI🚫
You are a Junior officer that just graduated a couple months ago. You work as an enforcer now in Grayson's department, and you try your hardest not to look at her too long, or study her facial features, her body, the way she walks, the way she talks— yeah, you're kind of obsessed. You had a huge crush on her, the first time you guys met. She welcomed you, and her being the sheriff, she was often the one telling you what to do, and she's kind enough to teach you what you don't know. And boy, do you love it.
Every 'Hi' every 'goodmorning' every smile, and wave she sends you, you just feel like you have a mini heart attack right then and there. You try your best not to get your feelings in the way, however, since sheriff grayson was just very professional, and very kind. 'She's 40+ goddammit! Get a hold of yourself' you scream internally.
You kept that crush to yourself, though, not even telling your closest friends, and coworkers about it, when they ask if you have eyes for anyone at the department. Of course, as a professional-unprofessional, you just laugh, and point to a random person, and say "Hmmm, that, right there, they're pretty hot" and move on with your day. You were pretty easy on the eyes too, some of your colleagues, mainly Marcus had a huge crush on you, but you prefer women, but that didn't stop him from trying and hitting on you though. He often asks you for drinks sometimes after your shift was over, which you took upon once in awhile, as long as you had company, but when it's just you two, you decline.
Grayson was the only one you had eyes on anyways. But, you're probably not her type, you being young and unexperienced and all. But you do appreciate her kindness towards you, often, when Marcus hits on you during work hours, she's scold him, and tell you to just ignore him. Or when you have no clue what to do, she'll just assign you to do something easier. She'd offer to buy you lunch, when you'd overwork yourself too much, and she hears your stomach grumble too much. But you'd often decline since you don't want to abuse your sheriff's kindess too much, and you're not really used to someone caring like that, let alone your crush. So you'd just blush, and tell her "Oh, thank you, but really, I'm fine" You say, avoiding her gaze.
She chuckles, with her deep voice, you can hear it vibrate to be honest. You can see her adams apple, everytime she talks, and you find that so hot. "Nonsense. I insist, please, let me buy you lunch." When you politely decline again, she stands up and smile at, and then walk away. About half an hour later, you just came back drom using the bathroom, you find a paper bag on your desk, with a note that writes "I'm sorry for blatantly disobeying your wishes right noe, but you truly need something to eat. I asked some of your friends what food you like, so I got you this. 💕–G" and all you could do was cover your cheeks, and feel your face getting hotter and hotter. You try to hide your blush, and your smile, by sitting down quickly, and you try to find her, and you see her looking at you through the glass of her office, while she was talking with someone. She winks at you, and continues to talk, and all you could do was mouth a small 'Thank you' and open your lunch to see your favourite food in it. At this point your face was burning up, and your colleagues ask if you were doing alright, but you quickly answered– "Yep!" They chuckle, and you eat your lunch there, savoring the taste, and you keep looking at the note Grayson wrote you. You put it under your desk, to keep in with you forever.
This went on for awhile, and every time, you offer to pay her back, but she firmly declines. "No, I truly insist. I do this on my own accord, this isn't a debt, it's just my way of showing you kindness" She smiles, and rejects your offer to pay her back with money, and walks away, before you could even come up with an argument. You start giving back, though. You often bake for the whole precinct when you had time, but this time, you made some custom muffins for Grayson that you know she loves. She doesn't like it too sweet, so you just add more fruit, and less sugar, and you sneak it in her office once in awhile with a note that only contains a "❤️ -(your initial)" Each day, you crush for her was blossoming, but with that, you know that that's the only place your feelings would go. You know she only thinks of you as something platonic anyways, and you try your best to hide your blushes everytime you interact with her. It's just her face, and her neck when she talks, her eyes when she looks at you, that smug smile, and how good she looks in uniform that drives you insane.
One day, you finally arrested the guy on your case for months, and the whole precincts congratulated you. Marcus proposed drinking for the night, and everybody, except Grayson tagged along. "You kids go, I must stay here to finish off my paper work. With my age, do you really think I'm missing out on that much?" She convinces, but you feel a little sad she's not coming with you. But you try not to let it linger on your mind for too long. It was a huge achievement for you, and she did buy you your favourite candied apples for lunch that day, with a note that said "Congratulations! – G" and you kept that note in your wallet for the night.
You, and your colleagues went to the bar, and you drank all night long in celebratory for your biggest achievement yet. Your face was now red, and you were getting notably buzzed, and your body was relaxed, the tension gone, and your words slurred a little bit, and you were just over all just carefree. Your coworkers seemed to be a little tipsy too. You were just all laughing together, and Marcus seemed to fall asleep right then and there, he always asked for drinks, yet he can never hold his alcohol well.
You were buying another round when your co worker suddenly asked "So who do you like?" And you paused for a bit, and you just blinked at her. "I already told you that" You chuckle, and she laughs at you "Yeah, but we both know that's bullshit, so who is it?" You sigh, and finally tell them. "Fine, but, keep your mouths shut everyone... Grayson" They all audibly gasped, surprised, and they all hit your shoulder and laughed. "Grayson?! As in Sheriff Grayson?!" You feel your face burn up again, and you try to hide your face, they were laughing. When they finally calmed down, they hit you again, but this time, it's a lot more calmer. "Don't worry, we get it. We'll keep our mouths shut. Just don't tell mister sleepy head right there" She gestures over a drunk Marcus eith his head down, and they laugh at him.
The night goes smoothly, and you all had to go home. They left, and took marcus home, and you called a cab and went home.
The next day, when you went to work, everybody had hangovers. Everyone, but Marcus. He was looking at you with disgust, and you squint at him to make sure you were seeing right. He looked down on you, he spits, and turns away. You are notably confused, and you ask one of your coworkers that you were with last night. "What's up with him?" You ask them, and they looked oddly nervous, and they were choking alot. You're getting kind of angry at this point "Spit it out." They choke, and blink, and just point at him whispering something to Grayson. You didn't get it at first, but you finally realized what he was doing.
You look absolutely mortified, your face full of betrayal, as Grayson just looks at you for awhile. You both just made eye contact, her eyes going wide, when she finally broke it. 'That's it. I'm getting fired.' You look at your coworker, and demand answers. How could they betray you like this, you ask with tears in your eyes. They say sorry, and explain that last night, when you were all drunk, turns out Marcus was still awake. And heard EVERYTHING. At this point you juat wanted to get swallowed by the earth. You felt like shit. She wasn't supposed to know. Everything was going so well. "W-we're sorry, Y/n. We didn't know." They say trying to comfort you, but you just coldly brush them off. You feel like shit. You know it was your fault for telling them in the first place. they weren't supposed to know. And now it was out.
You were quiet the whole day, the whole week even. Grayson has been bringing you anymore lunch, and she wasn't talking or calling you into her office anymore. When you come across her, she just looks the other way. She doesn't smile, or say 'Hi' to you anymore, when you come in for work. Marcus had finally gotten the hint you just weren't into him, and he stopped trying to flirst with you. Often, he'd just point and laugh, at how pathetic you are, and try your best to ignore him as much as you can.
Till a couple weeks later. You were still quiet, and not talking to anyone else by now. You started to work even harder, just constantly overworking yourself now that you can't trust anyone in the precinct. You bury yourself in paperwork. If you're not doing that, you often just guard, and patrol through the city. Anything to keep your mind away from Grayson.
You can't help it, even when she's ignoring you, she's effortlessly intoxicating.
One rainy night, you were working overtime, trying to finish all your paper work at once since, tomorrow was a weekend, you don't want to have anything on your mind, other than relax at home, and get a drink. By the time you finished, you noticed officer Grayson in her office fixing her things, getting ready to leave. You quickly run out, to make sure you don't go home the same time as her, to avoid any awkward situations, so you run to the door.
It was pouring. You didn't have an umbrella. The one time it rains, the only time you didn't bring an umbrella with you. You were just standing right outside the door, to keep yourself from getting wet. You sigh, and sit on a chair, and wait for the rain to stop. You hear sheriff Grayson walk out the door, cursing under her breath, when she saw how strong the rain, and winds are. You tried your best to look away, and you reached to your pocket, and light a cigarette. She just stands there, across from you, and you notice she's looking at you.
You hear her chuckle. You look to the side, to see she's smiling right at you. You shyly smile back, and she softly opens her mouth "You know, smoking is bad for you my dear" She says, as she crosses arms and shakes her head. You look down, and take a long drag on your cigarette, and blow smoke to the other side. "Yeah, but, these past few weeks have been... Shitty." You confess. You can barely look her in the eye at this point.
She makes her way towards you, and pats your shoulder. "Mind telling me about it? I wanna make sure you're alright, dear. Sorry if I haven't been attentive these past few days. I have been... Busy." She says, but you can hear the slight hesitation in her voice, but still laced with comfort. You just sigh, and look at the floor, as if the floor was telling you something interesting. You laugh, dryly. You try not to cry, but your sniffles can still be heard. She pats your back, and takes your cigarette from you, placing it somewhere, and she crouches down to your level. "Are you okay, dove? Is something wrong?" She puts her rough and calloused hands on your shoulder, as you pathetically cry infront of her. You finally break. "I-I'm sorry Grayson. Everything was fine between us, but I got drunk, and told my c-coworkers I-I liked you, and it was a mistake, I shouldn't have said it, and now you're ignoring me, and I'm sorry for crying, I known it's dumb, I should just—" She cuts you off with a deep kiss. It takes you a completely comprehend what's happening. You put one of your arms to pull on the back of her hair, as you moan in the kiss. You pull back, and she pulls you back in. She's now putting hickies on your neck. You still can't believe this is real, so you push her away again, just to take a good look at her.
She stops, and she pushes you a little big, surprised by her own actions. "I-I'm sorry, that was unprofessional of me, I shouldn't have done that, I came off too strong, I apologize" She says, and you just blink and look at her. You giggle a bit still nervous about what just happened, and you grip her biceps "No, no, It's okay, I do like you, alot— I'm just— am I dreaming? Is this real? Are we doing this?" You ask her, looking into her beautiful grey eyes, and she smiles at you, and leans in "Yes, dove, this is real." she goes in to kiss you again, and you kiss her back with more passion, and it's slowly turning into a very horny make out session.
Lighting striked, and the two of you jumped. You both giggle, and she kissed your nose, and looks at you. "Sincerely, I am sorry for ignoring you the past few weeks, it was just so hard to believe that you liked me, I guess I got nervous. I do like you too, sweetheart, I just had to find a way to find the courage and do this with you." she admits, witch a small noticable blush on her cheeks, as she looks down at you, "Would you like to go on a date with me, dove?" She asks, her hand reaching for yours, as you stand up. You smile at her. "Yes, I'd love to" You kiss her knuckles.
The rain has gotten much weaker mow, and she takes her bag, to get an umbrella in it. "Do you want me to drive you home, love?" She asks you. You smile at her, as she offers her arm to you, and you gladly take it. You nod to her, and she puts the umbrella over your heads, as she takes you to her car. She opens the door for you like the gentlewoman she is, and kisses you hand as you go in.
She gets into the car, and asks you if you're comfortable. You nod, as you put your seatbelt on, and she drives you home. "Grayson? What did Marcus tell you exactly, when he...?" You look up at her, and ask her. She just chuckles, as she shift geers, (God, just thinking about it makes me—) "Oh, nothing you have to worry about dear. He just told me you liked me. I was in shock of course, and I wanted to talk to you about it. But, I knew if I did, I wouldn't be able to act professional around you, so I tried my best not to..." She explains. You look down, but she looks at you, and smiles to herself. "I'm glad I did now." She says to you. You could hear the smile in her voice. She puts a had on your leg, and rubs it. You touch her hand, and look up at her. "You mean it?" She chuckles, and she stops her car on the red light. She nods. She cups your cheeks, and leans in to give you a peck on the lips. You're now a blushing mess.
When you get to your destination, she parks right outside your house, waiting for you get your stuff. You were about to thank her, when she pulls your wrists, and leans in for another deep kiss. You were surprised at how clingy your Sheriff was, but you kissed her back. You climb on top of her, and slowly grind your hips on her thighs, as she's taking off her uniform. You pull away, only to go to her neck, and give her love bites. She chuckles. "hmm, my dove, I think I'm past the age where love bites look cool on me" You roll your eyes. "You're never to old for a little love, Gray" You tease, and she pulls you back into the kiss.
You guys make out for a while when you pull back and look at her. "Do you... Want to come in?" You ask her, with a cheeky smile. Your hair is all messy now. She chuckles, and presses her forehead against yours. "I'd love to." and with that, she takes her umbrella, and carries you into your house, and you spend the whole night 'Bonding' with your Sheriff. 😉
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
I'm gonna end this right here, I'm not gonna go full on smut yet. I'm just testing the waters, if y'all would like me to make more Grayson fics, as much as I make Sevika fics. I love them both, I can't choose between them, so I think I might do both, but what do you think?
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trustmypoison · 3 months ago
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Let Me Hear You Say
The three times that Minghao resists confessing, and the one time it accidentally slips.
Word count: 1.9k
Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption and being drunk.
This is part of the Three Times series. This one is inspired by this reaction.
One
“I’m here!” You bust into Minghao’s studio, tossing bags, a coat, and half a dozen other things down in a chaotic mess. “Traffic was terrible,” you moan, collapsing onto the small couch in the corner. 
Minghao looks unimpressed with your dramatics as he peers over his canvas at you. “You sure do know how to make an entrance,” he muses. “What kind of trail of destruction did you leave on the way here?”
“Just a few things knocked over, I don’t think anything broke this time.” Some might think you’re joking, but Minghao knows you’re serious. You’re a bull in a china shop on a good day, and an F-5 tornado on a bad day. He secretly thinks of these comparisons affectionately. “What are you working on?” 
“I don’t know, to be honest. I had some colors in mind and I just went with it,” he mumbles, stepping back to see what he’s done. You join him glancing over the canvas. You give him a wide smile. 
“I like that shade of blue.” 
“So predictable,” he chuckles. “Make yourself useful and mix me some more of it then. And don’t waste paint.”
“No promises!” You exclaim, taking his palette from him and going to the work bench that holds all of his paint collection. When you hand the palette back to him a couple minutes later, he examines the color closely. It’s so, so close that it’s nearly imperceptible. Bull in a china shop that you are, combined with the skills in some arts that you lack, he’s kind of proud of you that you’re willing to stand still and focus long enough to get so close. He doesn’t have the heart to correct you. He never does when he can tell you’re really trying. 
But you’re pouting anyway, glancing between the palette and the canvas. “It needs more white.” He holds the palette above your head when you reach for it. 
“No, it’s fine. I told you not to waste paint. It’s so close I barely noticed.” 
You smile, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “You’re just saying that. It’s obviously too dark. Give it here. I’ll add a little more white.” 
“No.” Minghao is already dipping the brush in the color you mixed. “I like this one better anyway. Don’t forget the ratio you used. I want you to write it down.” 
“Okay,” you sing, grabbing a pen and paper from his work bench. Once you’re done, it goes it the collection of Y/N’s Colors, a special little spot in the corner stacked high with little scraps of paper. He wonders if you notice how often those colors reappear in his works. Probably not, which is just as well.
Two
It’s Minghao’s day off and you drag him to the art gallery. You say there’s a new collection that you’re interested in seeing. It surprises him, because it’s usually him that’s dragging you to places like this. It’s usually too quiet and not exciting enough for you, and you bounce on your feet, trailing behind him until he’s ready to go. 
This time, you’re many paces ahead of him on the sidewalk, turning excitedly to get him to hurry up. “Since when do you rush for something like this?” Minghao asks, watching you bounce up the stairs to the entrance. 
“You’ll see.” Your eyes are a little wild. You grab his hand and start tugging him like he’s not moving fast enough. Usually you both would start at the beginning and slowly make your way through the room, but you’re tugging him somewhere in the middle. You come to an abrupt stop and he nearly bumps into you. “This is the one I wanted to show you.”
You point to a photograph. It’s black and white and a little out of focus, but that’s the entire point. He recognizes the style and doesn’t really need to look at the little placard underneath the photo. “You didn’t tell me you submitted something,” he admonished, admiring your work. 
You sort of squeal and shake his arm. “I didn’t think they’d accept it. I found out yesterday,” you talk fast. It’s only because he’s known you for a while that he can keep up with your motor mouth. “I guess someone had to pull out last minute and mine was a back up. It’s small, but isn’t it cool?”
“It is,” Minghao says genuinely. “This is great, Y/N. I’m proud of you.” He pushes you towards the photo. “Come on. Pose for a picture.” 
“Oh, no Minghao. You know I prefer to be behind the camera,” you whine, resisting his shove. 
“I won’t post it. It’s just for me,” he promises. You sigh, standing next to your piece. He snaps a quick photo before you decide to bolt. He lied a little. He didn’t post it on social media, not even his private accounts. But he did get it printed and framed for his studio. He hangs it up high so you won’t be able to reach it and get rid of it easily if you ever notice it. 
Three
Woozi whistles when he flips through the pages. Minghao spins in the chair, waiting for a response. It’s not too often that he presents lyrics for the group’s use. He’s better at other forms of media, primarily visual aspects. Still, sometimes he tries his hand at it and gives it to Woozi to do with it what he will. 
“I could use some of this,” Woozi finally says. “I’ll credit you if I do.”
“Don’t bother,” Minghao waves off. “You know that’s not what’s important to me.”
“I know,” Woozi chuckles. “You make it pretty obvious what’s important to you.”
Minghao raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, my focus is performance and choreography.”
“I know that,” Woozi rolls his eyes. “I meant, it’s obvious who all of these are about. You should really do something about that.”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Minghao says shortly. “They’re just lyrics. They aren’t that serious.”
Woozi hums, though he looks a little bit entertained. “Denial is a really strong start, but not very convincing though. What’s so wrong with just telling her?”
“Tell her what? She’s just a friend.” 
Another eye roll, and Woozi goes back to his computer. “Fine, have it your way. You can deny that, I guess, but you can’t deny the writing credits you’ll get.”
Minghao leaves the studio before he can be roped back into that conversation. 
Four
Later that night, he agrees to go out with some of the members for drinks. He’s distracted and keeps taking whatever is handed to him, drinking faster than he normally would. He’s busy replaying the conversation with Woozi in his head. He’s never said it out loud, never admitted it, and no one has ever called it out so blatantly either. He’d always preferred it that way, maybe because then it doesn’t feel real and he can shove it to the back of his head to deal with later, or never. Something about Woozi’s direct comments make it hard to ignore, makes it feel real and it’s a little suffocating. 
He’s nearly asleep at the table when he loses the grip on his glass. His eyes snap open, scrambling for it, but it’s not that it’s slipped. Rather, a hand his tugging it away. He recognizes the hand because he’s watched it mix paint for him more than a few times. He releases the glass and puts his head in his hand, rubbing away the headache that’s formed somewhere between his eyebrows. 
You rub his back, voice teasing. “Having fun?” 
“Loads,” he mumbles. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to work.”
“I did. I’m already off. Jun called and said you might need a ride home,” you say lightly. Minghao checks his watch and groans at the time. He’s lost hours dozing at the table, it seems. You laugh, patting his back. “Come on, you can crash at my place. It’s closer.”
He lets you throw his arm around your shoulder once he’s standing and he hopes it doesn’t look like you’re carrying him, though you kind of are. You help him into the car and even buckle his seat belt. If he were sober, he’d never let you do that, but he’s a little overwhelmed by how nice you smell when you lean in close. He must doze off during the drive, because he wakes up to the smell of your perfume again as you’re leaning over him to unbuckle him. 
Inside your apartment, you help him out of his shoes and help him lie down on the couch. “Feel like you’re going to be sick?” He shakes his head and prays it will stay that way. “Okay, be right back.” In what feels like both a spilt second and a hundred years, you reappear with a bottle of water and a few aspirin. “Take these, get a head start.” He does as you say and then curls up into the pillow. A fluffy blanket comes over him. 
“Thanks. Love you.”
You laugh and the sound makes the corner of his lips turn up. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever said that. Who knew you’d be such a sweet drunk?”
“Just to you,” Minghao mumbles. 
“Aww, am I special?” You chuckle, brushing back his hair. 
He hums in agreement. “Yep. Love you. In love with you.”
You guffaw, standing up. “Okay, honey. Get some rest.” He’s pretty sure he’s asleep before you even turn the lights off. 
He wakes up the next morning to the smell of coffee. It’s strong, mostly because when he opens his eyes you’re waving the mug under his nose. He rears back, groaning at the sudden movement because his head is pounding. You laugh, placing the mug in his hands. “Aspirin is on the table. Take some more. Breakfast is coming up.”
Later, in between bites, you ask, “So did you have fun last night?”
“I don’t know,” Minghao mumbles. “Don’t remember much to be honest. I didn’t do anything stupid, did I?”
“It depends,” you smile, taking another bite. “Does confessing your love for me count as stupid?”
Minghao chokes on his coffee, nearly spraying it across the table. “I did what?”
“Yeah,” you say casually. “I don’t know if it was the alcohol talking, but you said ‘love you’ twice, and then ‘in love with you’ once. It was very sweet. You’re very sweet, even if you didn’t mean it.”
Minghao’s silent for a long time and you let him be, probably thinking he needs a minute to collect himself from the embarrassment. But you’ve got it all wrong. He kind of wishes he had the liquid courage he did last night. He can’t really look at you when he says, “I meant it.”
You stare at him for a few long seconds before finally smiling. “Good.” You’re up on your feet and he never knows how you have so much energy, but you’re bounding around the table and cupping his face, pressing the smallest peck to his lips. 
He’s momentarily stunned before he’s pushing you back. “Oh, come on, Y/N. I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet.”
“I have a brand new one under the sink. You better hurry.” He does, jumping up to run to the bathroom. He can hear your laugh echo down the hallway and thinks this will probably the first and last time he’ll ever be relieved to have gotten drunk the night before. 
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