#waiting for the hour to go motivation to kick in

[jayybugg]

drunken confessions

Theodore Nott x FemRavenclaw!Reader

Summary: Theo drinks a little bit more than he should....

Warnings: Drinking, No use of Y/N, Only mentions being in Ravenclaw once, and very cute???

Word Count: 1.6K

Note: Long time no see, my loves! I took a really long hiatus abruptly because life was kicking my ass badly. I decided that my first fic back should be a Theo fluff because who would I be if I didn't give this boy all of my attention? I hope you guys all enjoy it.

Banners by @cafekitsune

Music boomed through the Slytherin common room as you tried to navigate the sweaty bodies and screaming teens. You were trying to find Theodore, the person who had invited you. It was a celebratory party for Slytherin winning the quidditch game against Hufflepuff. You were in the Ravenclaw house but are good friends with many people in Slytherin.

"Oy," Draco pulled you to the side, "Looking for Theo?"

"Yeah, you've seen him?" you asked, gripping his arm so no one could separate you both. Draco nodded, pulling you to a separate room where Pansy, Daphne, Blaise, Enzo, Mattheo, and Theo sat.

"Finally, you're here." Daphne pulled you in for a hug, whispering in your ear, "Drunk pants over there have been asking about you for the past hour."

You glanced over at Theo, who was very drunk. "He never drinks this much." You whispered back to Daphne. She shrugged. "He caught the stitch. Winner of the game tonight."

You nodded, walking over to Theo and sitting next to him. He immediately grinned and wrapped his arms around your waist. "I've been waiting for you all night," Theo said, speaking slowly so his words didn't get slurred.

"I'm sorry. Why'd you drink so much without me?" You asked, tapping softly on his wrist. "I didn't mean to." Theo said, "Won the game, so people had given me a bunch of drinks."

You nodded, allowing Theo to go back to being the life of the party. Enzo sat down next to you, to keep you company as the party continued.

"So, what's your excuse for not being at the game tonight?" Enzo asked.

"That project for Transfiguration. My partner is an idiot who waited last minute to do his part, so I had to help him. I feel bad for missing it." You said, taking a sip of your water.

"Theo was upset that you weren't there. Probably what motivated him to win the game. That boy is obsessed with you," Enzo said, nudging you. You cleared your throat, feeling a sudden sense of nervousness. "We're just friends, Enzo."

"For now." Enzo wiggled his eyebrows. You laughed at him, rolling your eyes.

Did you like Theo? Yeah, but you didn't think he would like you back. He had a lot of girls on him and he could choose any of them. You were so wrapped in your mind and your conversation that you didn't notice that Theo had wandered off until you heard your name being called.

"Take Theo back to his dorm, please!" Blaise pleaded as he and Mattheo held a nearly blacked-out Theo up. You hopped up, grabbing Theo from them.

"Oh, hey, pretty girl." Theo drunkenly grinned at you. You smiled back. "You should've stopped drinking, Teddy."

"Really should've." Mattheo agreed. "You know where his dorm is. Don't worry about cleaning up down here, we got it."

You nodded, saying your goodbyes to everyone before walking upstairs to Theo's room.

"Pretty girl." Theo dragged out the pet name. "Your hair is so soft."

"Thanks, Teddy." You opened the door to his room, switched on the lights, and put him on the bed.

"Come on, let's get you in pajamas." You tapped his nose lightly, making him smile at you.

"You're so pretty, pretty girl. That's why I call you 'pretty girl' because you're so fucking pretty. Sometimes I think you're otherworldly because of it," Theo gushed, falling back on his bed. You felt your heartbeat pick up as the compliments flowed from Theo's mouth.

"Thank you, Theo. Here, put this shirt on." You handed the shirt to Theo, who shook his head no. "I like to be shirtless."

Theo pulled his shirt over his head and threw it in the hamper. You tried your best not to stare at his chest before handing him a pair of pants.

"You're taking good care of me, pretty girl. I wish you could always take care of me. Merlin, I love you so much." Theo spoke again. You felt your eyes widen as you looked at him. "What?" You said softly.

"I love you like I'm so in love with you. I just want to be with you all the time." Theo continued. You cleared your throat, pushing him under the covers. Theo was clearly saying anything to you because he was drunk. If Pansy or Daphne were here, he would probably say the same thing. You forced yourself to repeat that to yourself repeatedly so you could believe it.

"Get some sleep, Theo, goodnight." You switched off his light as you swung his door open. "Goodnight, my pretty girl. I love you." Theo said.

You quickly shut the door, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. You didn't know how to interpret what had just happened. Theo admitted to being in love with you. Or did he? He was drunk, so he probably wasn't serious. Yeah, he was drunk. You took a deep breath before making your way back downstairs.

Mattheo saw you hurry down the stairs and raised his eyebrow at you, "You good? Is Theo okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine. I'm just gonna go back to my dorm," You said. Mattheo eyed you, "What happened?"

"What? Why would anything happen?" You asked, diverting your eyes anywhere but to Mattheo's.

"..."

You sighed, glancing down at your feet, "Theo said he was in love with me."

The room froze as everyone turned their heads to look at you. Suddenly, you felt tiny. "What? Why are you guys staring at me like that?" You asked.

"Nothing! It's just...." Daphne glanced at everyone, "We didn't expect Theo to confess that when he was drunk."

"Yeah, I had galleons on an angry confession followed by an angry, passionate kiss," Draco said, causing Pansy to hit him in the arm.

You blinked. Confess? Confess as in.... he's been holding this in for a long time?

"Wait, so he's telling the truth, and you all knew it?" You asked. Everyone made noises in agreement.

"I mean, everyone can see how head over heels he is for you. You were the only one denying it." Blaise said. Your face felt hot, and you shook your head, "I'm going to my dorm."

Everyone laughed, bidding you goodbye.

Theo woke up the next day with a terrible headache.

"Ahh, there's our champion." Blaise's teasing voice caused Theo to groan.

"Why would I ever drink that much?" Theo asked, mainly to himself. Enzo laughed, setting a cup of water and some medicine on Theo's bedside. "I don't know, but it was quite entertaining to see you get taken care of by your pretty girl." Enzo's voice was teasing and light.

Theo's face immediately heated at the idea of acting like a fool in front of you. "Did I do something stupid in front of her?"

Blaise and Enzo shared a look before shrugging. Theo looked at both of them. "What? What did I do? Oh, Merlin, tell me I didn't embarrass myself."

"I wouldn't say you embarrassed yourself," Blaise said.

"But sober Theo definitely wouldn't have confessed to her that he's in love with her," Enzo said.

It took Theo a moment to realize what Enzo had said before his face turned completely red in shame and embarrassment.

"I told her I was in love with her?" Theo groaned loudly. That was not how he pictured confessing to you. Well, he never pictured confessing his feelings to you because he was scared and had no intentions of doing it.

"It's a good thing, don't you think? I mean, she finally knows." Blaise said, "Although she might need some convincing because she thinks you only said it because you were drunk and probably didn't mean it."

Theo hopped out of his bed, finding the nearest t-shirt before slipping on his shoes. He had already confessed how he felt and if it's already out there, there's no point in hiding it.

Theo spirited to your dorm, not muttering a good morning to anyone as he pushed past them. Finally, he got to your dorm and banged on it until he heard your feet shuffling.

"Teddy?" You asked groggily before focusing your eyes on the out-of-breath and frizzled Theo in front of you, "What the hell happened to you?"

"I meant it."

"What?"

There was silence between you two. He knew you knew what he was talking about, so it didn't take long for realization to take over your face.

"I meant it." Theo repeated himself, "Every word I said last night while I was sloppy drunk was true."

"I have been trying to work up the courage to say something about it for the last year or so. Granted, I didn't think it would be while I was drunk."

"How long?" You tilted your head to the side, with a hint of amusement gracing your face.

Theo's face flushed pink, as he knew you were teasing him, as well as being genuinely curious. "Since first year. When I saw you on the train to school."

"You didn't even speak to me until third year."

"I was nervous." Theo let out a breath. "I watched you, though."

You held back a laugh as Theo immediately turned even more red. "That was creepy. I didn't mean it like that! I just— we've shared a lot of classes and— I'm going to shut up."

You stood on your tippy toes, kissing Theo's flushed cheeks. "I've had a crush on you since second year."

"Really?"

You nodded, smiling. "So what now?"

"Um, will you go on a date with me? Maybe next weekend after the quidditch game?" Theo asked, feeling more nervous than ever.

"I would love to, " you smiled. And I won't miss this game, I promise."

"I'm holding you to that." Theo smiled back.

You gave Theo another kiss on the cheek. "It's still early. I'll see you later, okay?"

Theo nodded, and you smiled, closing your door. Theo stayed there for a few more seconds until he realized he probably looked crazy for just smiling at your door.

Who knew getting drunk had some perks?

[pyrodolls]

hi i was wondering if you would do headcannons of the yan!fanboy if reader actually noticed him coming to all their shows and events

obsessed (superfan! yandere boy x gn!popstar reader)

warnings: stalking, average yandere tendencies, nsfw, perverted yandere, gender neutral reader, mentions of naked reader but no genitalia addressed, dom reader, reader is compliant with the yandere and teases him a ton, lowercase intended. btw i do not condone yanderes irl.

a/n: i hope y'all know i read every single one of your asks, comments, and reblogs. i appreciate them all and they do brighten my day. i'm just saying this so y'all know that the stuff you send to other writers (not just me) matters a lot!! when you interact it gives them inspiration!!! and motivation!! me personally sometimes i see ONE kind reblog and i immediately get my ass up and start writing something just because of that one person. don't get me wrong, i still love all my lurkers that silently like a ton of my stuff, y'all are important too. anyways i'll shut up now onto the hcs. (btw this ended up being a fic instead of hcs i apologize. i went crazy over this i'm sorry anon LMAO)

"hey, you look pretty familiar. have you been to a few shows before?" you asked kindly, facing the short man in the front row of the audience.

bayani froze as the stadium's screens pointed to him. he opened his mouth in an attempt to say something, but nothing came out. his face went red and his throat went dry. did you actually notice him, or was he just dreaming?

after a few seconds of waiting for an answer, you shrugged. "sorry, maybe i mistook you for someone else. anyways..."

the yandere boy still didn't move, with his mouth agape, as you continued on with your show. the people around bayani didn't seem to care, assuming that he was just a starstruck fan. but it was more than that. much more than that.

out of the millions of fans that attend your shows and events, you recognized him among them. you noticed him. and he didn't know how to handle it. what was he supposed to say? what would you even talk about? sure, he's seen all of your interviews and heard your music and dissected your lyrics for hours every single day, but would you ever want to interact with him as much as he wanted to interact with you? he was just a lowlife. he had an average job, average amount of money, he lived in a shitty apartment, and he had no friends or major accomplishments. all of his free time outside of work was spent on you. spent on following your every move and investigating everything you've put your hands on. if you ever spoke to him, you'd probably think he was some sort of pathetic stalker.

that thought drove him mad. he couldn't even focus on the rest of your concert. he didn't hear the blaring music and screams from the crowd. he wasn't paying attention to your performance, either.

he could only stand there and imagine the punishments you'd inflict on him if you found out about his obsession. would you call your security to take him away? he'd hope not. if he's going to be kicked and pushed around, perhaps even handcuffed, he'd rather you do the job rather than some random guard. but maybe he'd accept the punishment, only because you were the one who deemed it necessary. he takes your word like gospel, so he'll take whatever punishment you want, even though he would prefer your hands on him while you do it.

his imagination ran wild as your concert finished and you walked off the stage with your dancers. the crowd of fans in the stadium dispersed around him, moving along with their day. but bayani couldn't just move on with his day knowing that you know he exists now. how is he supposed to simply move on from that? he spent a long time making sure you never noticed him. even though he attended every single one of your concerts and events, he did not want to be noticed. he knew he wouldn't be able to handle it. but it finally happened. he finally got a taste of what it's like to be seen by the love of his life. he couldn't just leave it at that. he had to do something about it.

being under your gaze, even if it was only a few seconds, made him feel like he went to heaven. it made all of the hundreds of dollars he spent on you worth it. all of the hours he spent listening to your music and watching videos of you was worth it. it was like he awoke from a slumber. a long, miserable slumber. he had to find a way to thank you. say something to you. he messed up when he simply froze after you saw him. who knows when he'll get another chance like that?

it took a few hours for the stadium to be empty, and the security started to shoo bayani away. but when he went outside, the parking lot was still full. your concert ended hours ago, but there was still loads of cars trying to leave. it would be frustrating, but bayani had to find a way out quickly.

he climbed on the back of a nearby truck and rested his legs there, waiting patiently for the vehicle to move out of the traffic. even though he knew the truck wouldn't go anywhere near your mansion, he knew how to get to your house on foot. he only needed to rest on the truck until the traffic was gone.

after a few hours on the road, he jumped out of the vehicle, and started to walk to your mansion on foot. he didn't need to look up the location online, because he already knew where it was. he visited your home many times in the past, he just never attempted to go inside before.

his veins were on fire and he started to sweat the closer he got. he was starting to have second thoughts about his idea. but there was no time to go back, because he already showed up to your house before he could change his plans.

to get inside, he had to climb up a tree, jump off of it, and land in your backyard. he used that trick often in the past, since it was not his first time going to your house. he often snuck on your property to watch or take pictures of you while you slept.

he tried opening your bedroom window, but it was locked. he had to try a different one.

he went over to a window beside your bedroom, and thankfully, it was unlocked. but the moment he opened the window, he heard the sound of water running and your familiar voice humming a song. were you in the shower?

bayani climbed inside as quietly as possible, and closed the window behind him. his suspicions were correct. he was in your bathroom, and you were taking a shower. your curtains covered up your figure, so he couldn't see you.

bayani looked to the side of the room and saw a pile of your dirty clothes on the floor. he ran up to it and immediately took a large whiff at the pile. it smelled divine to him. he couldn't get enough of it. he quickly spotted your used underwear in the pile and snatched it without thinking, then he stuffed it in his pocket. you wouldn't notice, right?

before he could take the rest of your clothes, the water suddenly stopped. bayani ran to hide, in a spot where you couldn't see him but he could see you. you opened the shower curtains and stepped out with a towel in your hands. you were completely naked, and still drenched in water. bayani felt like he died and went to heaven again that day. he couldn't believe what he was seeing. you were completely naked, right in front of his eyes. ignoring the puddle in his pants, he nervously fumbled around his pockets, trying to find his phone. there was no way he could pass up an opportunity like this. without hesitation, he snapped a photo of you.

but he didn't notice that the flash was on.

he froze, and you looked towards him. neither of you said a word, and bayani saw his future flash before his eyes. you would probably scream for security and he would get taken away to prison, never to see your face again. his life would be over.

"you're the guy i've been seeing everywhere, huh?" you whispered.

"...are you going to, uh... send me away?" bayani gulped.

you thought about it for a moment. this guy clearly cared a lot about you, because you saw him literally everywhere you went. no matter what country you visited, he was always there. even if you didn't tell a single soul where you were going, he was somehow always there. you even saw him on your property a few times, so you knew how crazy he was. but you still let him do it. and you never reported him, either. you knew exactly what he wanted. you could always hear him moaning outside your window, knowing he would have one hand down his pants and a camera on the other.

he was cute, so why not have some fun with him?

"come here." you commanded. he followed your order without thinking, immediately falling down to his knees in front of you.

you grabbed his chin, and made him look up at you. he felt hot tears well up in his eyes as you stared him down. he didn't say a word, but you knew exactly what he was thinking.

you pressed your knee against the wet stain on his pants, and he let out a pathetic whimper. he was getting off on it.

he didn't know what to do. his dreams were finally coming true. he got noticed by you, got into your house, saw you naked, and you finally touched him. he was overwhelmed, and started crying. he didn't mean to look so weak in front of you for a first impression, but he couldn't help it. besides, he'd make a fool out of himself any day for you.

"you're so pathetic.. you've been stalking me for so long, and now you break into my house to see me naked. i could call the police and have you arrested..." you whispered, as you started putting more pressure on his crotch, moving your knee up and down on it, and inching your face closer to his.

he sobbed, “please, don't! i promise, it'll never happen again. i'll stop, i'll do whatever you want, i'll-"

you cut him off by connecting your lips to his, setting his heart on fire. you pulled away after a few seconds, leaving him speechless. there's no way you just kissed him. he had to be dreaming.

and then you moved your knee away from his crotch right before he could cum, making him let out a whimper and crumble to the ground.

"thanks for letting me have some fun with you. we can do this again soon.. if you be a good boy and return my underwear." you winked, walking away and leaving bayani a hard, pathetic, leaking mess on your bathroom floor.

[yandere-daydreams]

i'm being forced by myself to make a proper post for this poll. may gojo reign as a codependent king for years to come.

Cuteness Aggression With The Yan!JJK Boys.

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Mahito, and Sukuna.

TW: Kidnapping, Unhealthy Relationships, and Implied Non/Con.

Gojo is near-violent. Expect to be constantly covered in bruises from his habit of full-body tackling you whenever he notices you're wearing one of his shirts or curled up in his bed or quirking your lips in the way he's never been able to resist. Tends to hold onto you for a while, too, keeping you pressed against him while he squeals and coos about how adorable his partner is, making you sound like more of an especially beloved pet rather than a live-in captive. No amount of squirming will distract him, either - he's going to be there until someone literally pries him off of you which, because there's a good chance he's already got you locked up tight in that luxury penthouse of his, isn't going to be anytime soon.

Geto is more used to receiving affection than dulling it out, so he doesn't really know what to do with himself when he's suddenly overwhelmed with the temptation to wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze until you stop laughing in a way that makes his heart want to beat out of his chest. In the end, he sorta just,,, picks you up and starts carrying you around like a giant cat. Maybe pinches your cheek when you inevitably start complaining and ask to be put down. Cult members who ask why you've been slung over his shoulder for the past hour and a half are immediately done away with and curse-users don't fair much better.

Nanami, as the only (relatively) emotionally-regulated person on this list, takes it in-stride. He tries not to force affection onto you, so he'll settle for a few headpats and maybe a kiss to your forehead, if you aren't absolutely terrified of him at that point. If you catch him in a more vulnerable state, either injured or exhausted, he might be a little more forceful - wrapping an arm around your waist and hauling you against his chest, where he can hold you until you eventually give-in and stop struggling, but at least he tries to hold himself back. Sometimes. Maybe. If you're lucky, that day.

Toji is almost as bad as Geto, but not quite as awkward. He tends to scoop you up, drag you away from whatever you're doing, and lay you down where he can pepper your face with kisses and whine when you shove at his chest. He usually lets you go after a few minutes, but it's in your best interest not to squirm too much until he does. He'll just smirk and kiss your neck and say something about how precious his little sweetheart is being, today. The fondness-motivated aggression is short-lived. What he'll do if you give him the idea that you might need more of his affection won't be.

Mahito is twice as unhinged as Gojo and only half as self-conscious. His only saving grace is that, by the time he gets genuinely overwhelmed by something you do, you're going to be used to weathering his constant attempts to suffocate you via forty-five minute hugs. When he realizes how cutely you wince when he pokes a fresh bruise and decides he has to dig his teeth into your shoulder and refuse to let go about it, you'll probably be too used to his ""affection"" to do anything other than sigh and make sure he doesn't severe anything important, this time.

Sukuna is, in his defense, rarely gentle about anything, so you really can't expect him to have a gentle reaction when he sees what an adorable reaction you wear as you wait for him to take his first drink from the chalice you laced with you most recent poisonous fixation. You can kick and thrash all you want as two of his arms loop under yours and pull you onto his lap, as he cups your face and shoves tongue down your throat and wonders aloud if you taste as endearing as you look. He always keeps you by his side, but for the rest of the day, he won't be satisfied unless you're practically on top of him, riding on his shoulders or straddling his thigh. He'll even drink your deadly little elixir straight from the bottle, if you ask him to. It won't work, but you know, it's the thought that counts and all <3

[bkgml]

sleeping on katsuki while he works!

katsuki liked to jump the gun on a lot of assignments, he’s not a slacker. so when aizawa announced a final assignment before graduation, you bet your ass he was going to finish it the day it was announced.

he locked himself in his room after school, even though you were whining that you wanted to spend time with him.

the next time you saw him was dinner, he came downstairs to eat with you before heading back up to his room.

“bye, sweets. ‘m gonna go back to work.” he kissed your cheek.

“wait!” you ran up to him and held his hand.

“can i sit in your bed until you’re done? wanna sleep in your room.”

he thought about it.

“alright. if you make a bunch of noise you’re getting fuckin kicked out.”

“deal!”

the two of you walked to his dorm, hand and hand. as you entered his room you ran and jumped on his bed, getting comfy in the sheets with your phone.

“if you’re going to watch something with sound, use my headphones, kay?” he went to sit in his desk chair.

“okay.” you said, grabbing his headphones from his nightstand.

he worked for a couple more hours, driven by his motivation to be the best.

you were getting sleepy though and wanted him to hold you. you didn’t think he’d work for this long.

katsuki assumed you were already asleep, surprised at the lack of noise coming from his bed.

you took his headphones off and stood from the bed, walking to him.

you ran your fingers through his hair and he looked at you. your eyes were drooping and your movements were sluggish.

“hey, baby. why are you still awake?” he questioned.

“i wanna sleep with you katsuki. how much longer are you going to work for?” you say, rubbing your eyes.

“i still have a couple more hours of work in me.”

you whine and he runs his fingers against your cheek.

“can i sit with you? miss you.” you lean into his touch.

“yeah, come on.” he turns his chair towards you, hands grabbing under your shoulders and lifting you into his lap, guiding your legs through the arm rests.

now you sit chest to chest with him, cuddling into his form.

‘well this is distracting..’ katsuki thinks, but he can’t help not caring. he wanted to be with you too.

he forces himself to continue working, determined to finish this assignment by tonight.

as he works he occasionally presses sweet kisses to your temple, caresses your cheek and slips his big hand under your shirt to trace your spine.

there’s a portion of the assignment that requires him to watch a video, so he opens the video and is met with a full blast intro from some stupid sidekick.

he jumps and pauses the video, his eyes wide and glued to you.

you whine, trying to hide your face in the comfort of your boyfriends neck.

“i know, sweet girl, ‘m sorry.” he kisses your cheeks.

“just go back to sleep, yeah?”

you blink the sleep out of your eyes, it’s late.

“kats, why are you working so late? can we go to bed now?” you ask sweetly.

he threads his fingers through your hair.

“i’m on the last part, just 20 minutes.” he reasons.

you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, lips moving in tandem and he groans softly.

“don’t overwork yourself, it’ll still be here tomorrow.” you drag your hands down his arms soothingly.

“come to bed.” you say into his jaw before pressing a kiss to it.

“fine, let’s go to bed.” he gives in and you smile into his skin, kissing it again.

he surprises you by standing with you still wrapped in his arms.

he propels the two of you onto his bed with a jump. you squeal, hiding your face in his neck.

“katsuki!” he laughs.

the two of you land with him under you to cushion your fall.

once your heart rate returns to normal after the scare he gave you, you wrap your arms around him and press your cheek to his chest.

the moment gets cut short and your heart rate spikes once again when you hear a knock at the door. eyes wide and looking at each other, the silent question stains the air…

‘is that aizawa?!’

you’d be expelled on the spot if the two of you were caught in katsukis room alone. the two of you decide to just stay silent in hopes of him giving up and walking away.

“yo bakugou!!” you hear a whisper-shout followed by more knocks.

katsuki groans and you laugh, getting up and walking to the door.

“hi kiri.” you say as you open it.

“hey yn! can i sleep on the beanbag tonight? i just watched the scariest movie ever made.”

“no!” katsuki shouts from his place in bed.

“yes, you can.” you say, sending a half assed glare to katsuki.

kirishima grins.

“thanks yn! you’re the greatest.” he says while running and jumping onto the massive beanbag in the corner of katsukis room.

you sigh sleepily and walk to katsuki, climbing into bed with him. he turns towards the wall and you accept it, he’s probably worried about showing pda. you end up turning away from him too, moving your foot back to rub against his calf affectionately.

“guys, you know ive seen you act lovey dovey before right? i’ll turn away so you guys can cuddle.” kirishima smiles.

“don’t worry about it kiri-“ you start.

“fine. do it then.” katsuki says, rolling over. he didn’t stop working for nothing! he wants to hold you!

kirishima grins at you before turning away.

you turn to look at your boyfriend. he presses his face into your neck and inhales. shifting to wrap his arm around your waist and put his other arm under your head as a pillow. he pulls you close to his chest. you look up at him and lift your hand from underneath the duvet to stroke at his cheek.

“i love you.” you whisper, quiet as a mouse as to not disturb kirishima.

katsuki grunts in response. you know he means ‘i love you too’ though, he’s just not ready to say it in front of kirishima.

“i love you guys too!” you hear from the beanbag in the corner and you laugh while katsuki grumbles about his friend, still hidden in your neck. he’s breathing deeply, trying to get every drop of the perfume you wear that wore of during the day. he can smell your lotion and the shampoo you use. he thinks he’s never smelt anything as good as you.

he kisses your neck before drifting off into a deep sleep, still tired from the hours of schoolwork he did.

[ew-selfish-art]

DpxDc AU: Soulmates only meet in the afterlife...And Danny is dead half of the time. 

It was the general consensus that Soulmates did indeed exist, and that there were a couple of hints to know if your soulmate was, but you wouldn’t know for certain until you died. This was often devastating for widows of non-soulmates but... Widows could hear the voices of and feel the phantom touches of their Soulmates. That after their loved one passed away, they didn’t truly leave them. 

Soulmates always traveled to the infinite realms together in a pair, unwilling to pass on without the other. This leads to the ghosts that seemingly never moved on and gave Danny so much grief, they needed to pass the time until their loved one died some how. 

Danny dies and feels himself talking to himself more often while transformed into Phantom, kicking butt and taking names aside. Just small things to reassure himself, nothing more than an instinct to process the situation he was in with this insane life he was living. 

I’m going to be okay, I’m going to get out of this.

I swear to all the ancients that Casper High better make a statue in my honor. 

Mom and Dad don’t mean it. 

The fundraiser to rebuild Poltergeist Avenue is going to be ridiculous.

Mom and Dad wouldn’t mean it if they really knew. 

Nasty burger really should rebrand but my goodness is this the best shit ever. 

It takes a few years to think about the fact that he might have a soulmate who could hear him- how unlikely would that be though? It’s not like he was haunting the person, so it probably wasn’t any big issue. Was there a proximity thing involved? Clockwork sighs and gives him no true answers. 

...

Tim has been hearing the voice of his Soulmate for years. Not...All the time though. He’d mapped out the time frame by which he did hear the additional male voice, accumulated enough data to determine a general profile and geotagged a few of the landmarks mentioned to find the most likely town. Restaurants, street names, highschools, and notable names all help Tim to find what he’s looking for. The concerning amount of comments on his soulmates parents make Tim’s blood boil and motivate him all the more. 

Thing is...Amity Park is under a complete media blackout. The challenge nearly makes him swoon, as if his dead soulmate were leading him towards his favorite hobby (taking down corrupt groups of assholes with too much power, cult or government, was his ideal pass time). He just wants to know who his soulmate was. He wants to know who is waiting for him. 

Arriving undercover and unannounced as a random tourist, Tim cannot find his soulmates grave. Can’t find anything about the person who died all those years ago and had spoken in his ear ever since. He’s about to storm the Mayor’s office, his plans for the GIW already in motion, when a ghost attack begins. 

Phantom arrives and suddenly Tim understands who exactly he’s been looking for. Getting into the crosshairs of the fight, Tim pulls a few RR moves and Phantom cautiously approaches him after capturing the assailant ghost. 

“I’m here because you’re my soulmate, and it’s very interesting that you only talk to me during non-business hours. Care to explain what you’re doing between 9 am and 3 pm, Monday through Friday?” 

“Uh... High school mostly. Wait you can hear me? You’re my soulmate?” 

Cue Danny de-transformation, explanation of his death and ability to die on command, and Tim’s very softball interrogation with his presentation on how he found Danny through the small conversational phrases.

They kiss as the GIW headquarters explode in the background.

[futfemfantasies]

Semi final surprises \\ Alexia Putellas x Williamson!reader

Tensions are high in the Arsenal dressing room as the do or die game is less than an hour from starting. I tie the last knot in my laces before walking out with the rest of the girls to start warm ups. After a brief warm up with the rest of the starters, I sit down in the cubby next to Leah’s and notice a few notifications from Alexia. Before each game, Alexia always sends multiple voice messages. I play the first one and hear the thick Spanish accent come through the headphones.

Hi my love, I know you have the headphones on. I will send you the voice messages.

You will do so well today. Play your heart out, score some goals and take it in.

I love you and I am so proud of you superstar. I’ll see you in the next few days when you visit.

I smile at Alexia’s English and send a reply. My phone goes back into my bag just as Leah bumps my leg to gesture that it’s time to go.

I quickly change into the game jersey and line up with the rest of the girls. I see the Lyon team on the other side of the hallway and I move behind Caitlin in line. I feel a small hand in mine and see a young girl about 6 or 7 years old smiling up at me. I talk to her for a little bit before we go out to the bustling crowd that is the Emirates.

As we all wait for the formalities to conclude, I notice my mascot shivering slightly. I ask her if she wants my jacket and she nods. I take it off and wrap it around her shoulders. A small thank you was said and hug in return made some fans cheer at the interaction.

A short huddle later and the second semi final of the champions league is underway. With Wolfsburg shockingly beating Barcelona a few days ago, the Spanish team will fail to get their three-peat this year. A whistle pulls you out of your thoughts and your teammates start to get into position.

Lyon wasted no time in attacking, taking most of the possession from the first whistle. The Arsenal attackers, Alessia, Caitlin and I drop back into defence while trying to regain the ball to take up field. The deadlock breaks just before halftime with Lyon scoring the first goal. As the French team celebrated, Kim pulled us all into a huddle to motivate us for the rest of the half.

As I walk back with Alessia, I look back and catch Leah’s eye. I give her a slight nod and returned one as to silently say stay calm and focused. No other chances came Arsenal’s way in the first half so I walk into the locker room with my head down, about to give up. After a pep talk from Jonas and a motivational boost from Kim, the team were ready to face Lyon for another half.

As both teams jogged out, Alexia weaved her way through the crowd to get to her seat. Of course her plane had to be delayed and then no taxis or Ubers were at the arrivals part of the airport. Luckily, you had shown Alexia how to watch your games so she didn’t miss anything on the way over to the stadium. As Alexia got on a flight straight after a day of interviews and photoshoots, she came without any luggage. Excusing herself as she moved past people, Alexia finally reached her seat.

In the 70th minute is when the dynamic shifted in half. I try to sneak past Vanessa Gillies but she slide tackles straight into my ankle. I fall to ground screaming and the medic rushes over. I get a bandage wrapped around my ankle as there’s a decent cut. I put everything back on and the game resumes. I see a Lyon player get organised for the free kick, in a pretty good spot and I give Steph a look and hold up 2 fingers for a tactic.

Steph kicks the ball and I watch as it comes towards me. I quickly look in front of me and see Leah so I jump on her slightly to get a better angle on the ball. The ball flicks into the bottom corner of the net.

Equaliser. 1-1.

I run to the corner flag and turn around to be pulled into a group hug. The roar from the crowd was deafening as we regrouped and focused on the remaining 20 minutes.

As time was counting down, I was getting exhausted but I knew I had to keep going. Leah makes a crucial slide tackle and quickly spots me near the box. She kicks the ball over the Lyon defenders and with pinpoint accuracy, it lands on my foot, making it a perfectly timed volley. The familiar swoosh of the net is all I can hear as I drop to my knees in disbelief. Leah was the first on the floor with me and other teammates soon followed.

“You did it y/n/n”

“Games not over yet Lee”

In a matter of minutes the final whistle blew and Lyon bodies fell to the floor in distraught. Legs are exhausted, minds numb. While around the pitch Arsenal teammates and staff were jumping, screaming and crying all at the same time. Leah and I found each other first, hugging for longer than usual. This was our moment. One we’ve been waiting for since we were at the academy. After shaking hands with Lyon, the team and staff went on a victory lap. Walking with Leah and Steph, waving into the crowd when someone caught my eye.

“No way”

There was the love of my life wearing a red and white scarf and of course a Barça baseball cap. I sprint over to Alexia with a wide smile on my face. Alexia opens her arms and I jump the barricade to get into her arms, the place I call home.

“You came. I thought you had photoshoots and media” I say as my voice is raspy due to yelling in the game.

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss this for the world mi amor”

It has been speculation for a while now that you and Alexia are dating, with both of you posting subtle hints on instagram stories and posts. This moment just confirms all the fans TikTok edits and endless stalking they have done. Without another thought or care in the world, I grab Alexia’s cheeks gently and kiss her gently.

“I love you” I murmured against Alexia’s lips.

Alexia smiled as she replied “Te quiero más”.

I got called over by Katie and Caitlin as the group stopped staring and continued their victory parade around the ground. Alexia nudged me to go and said she’d wait here when I finish.

As I walk around the ground, nothing can beat this feeling. I have my sister and best friend with me in the final and the love of my life is by my side cheering me on. How can it get better than this?

[pitchsidestories]

coming home II Guro Reiten x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1190

summary: Guro and you can't wait to be reunited again after you both were away with your Norwegian and Swedish national team.

a/n: Hi, it's inspired by this request here, we hope you have fun with this little, fluffy oneshot.

“Earth to Guro.”, Caroline Graham Hansen spoke visibly frustrated to her fellow Norwegian teammate who was typing and smiling at her phone, but not taking any notice of the rest of the group which was very unlike her.

It was a beautiful day in their home country and yet Guro wished herself back to the rainy streets of London, where you and her would lay in your shared bed, listening to the noise the raindrops made against the large windows.  

“Huh?”, she glanced puzzled at the Barcelona player.

“We’re here.”, Caroline reminded her.

“Sorry, just texted my..”, the Chelsea forward started to apologize.

Maren who was the most familiar with her and the smile she had on her lips while thinking about you interrupted her softly:” Your girlfriend? You’ll see her soon enough.”

“Ugh.”, the Barcelona footballer groaned.

“Don’t ugh me, Caro.”, Guro laughed.

“You’re so in love, it’s disgusting.”, Caroline shrugged.

“Ignore the black cat, Guro. We’re happy you found each other.”, Ada threw in smiling amused.

“We’re happy.”, the other player repeated scoffing.

“All of us except for Caro.”, Ingrid corrected the prior sentence of the Lyon footballer.

“Thanks, girls. I’m really happy with her.”, Guro beamed.

“We get it.”, Caroline muttered, eager to play.

The game went not in the favour of the Norwegians, they lost and played under their own high expectations. The Chelsea forward was relieved once she was able to get to her hotel room and video call you.

 “Can’t wait to see you again, the match was awful.”, she confessed.

“Not that long anymore, one game to go.”, you tried to cheer her up, you were away with your Swedish national team.

“I know.”, Guro admitted.

“You can do this, captain Guro.”, you assured her. Unfortunately, you weren’t alone in your room, Magdalena and Fridolina were sitting opposite of you, giggling at your motivational speech.

“What’s so funny.”, your girlfriend wanted to know.

“Magda, Frido, shut it., you scolded your teammates, before turning back to her, sorry min älskling.”

“Thanks.”, Guro replied.

“Better, right?”

“Yes, a lot.”, she confirmed. Afterwards you continued to talk about your days.

Way to soon, Magdalena reminded you:” It’s dinner time.”

“Damn it, she’s right.”, you cursed.

“Why are your teammates so horrible.”, your girlfriend questioned grinning.

“They are the worst.”, you agreed jokingly.

“Lies, you love us!”, Fridolina protested.

“Yeah, sometimes.”, you answered truthfully.

“See?”, the Bayern Munich defender gave you a winning smile.

“Bye, Guro, hope the grandmas here fall asleep early, so we can continue talking later.”, you said goodbye to her with a heavy heart.

“I hope so too.”, Guro said.

Of course it was raining when you arrived back in London.

Dragging your suitcase behind you, you opened the door to your shared apartment.

“I’m home!“, you called, knowing that Guro must be somewhere. She had let you know via text that she would arrived a few hours before you.

You kicked off your shoes and left your suitcase in the middle of the floor.

Guros face appeared in the doorway leading to your kitchen: “Finally!“

“God, I missed you.“, you smiled at the sight of your girlfriend and jogged over to her to jump into her arms.

Guro, being a similar height as you, almost lost her balance but regained it in the last moment before you both would have tumbled to the floor.

“Missed you too.“

She kissed your cheek before putting you back down.

You sat down at the kitchen table. Without a word, your girlfriend placed a cup of water and a freshly brewed coffee in front of you.

You marvelled at the thoughtfulness. It was exactly what you needed after a long flight.

As soon as she sat down with you, her own coffee in hand, you asked: “How was camp? Tell me everything.“

“Good, really.“, Guro answered plainly but you could tell from the way her face lit up that it actually had been a good camp for her.

You nodded, satisfied with her answer: “That’s great. What kind of food would you like to order? The usual? The bill is on me.“

Your girlfriend smirked at the quick change of topic: “Someone’s in a good mood.“

“Yeah, we won both of our games.“, you explained laughing.

“I saw that.“

“Did you see my goals too?“, you asked innocently while typing on your phone. The order from your favourite restaurant was quickly placed.

“Of course, I did.“

“Pretty nice, huh?“, you bragged jokingly.

Guro wrinkled her nose, rather unimpressed, and shrugged: “They were okay.“

“Only okay?!“, you repeated, feigning offense.

“Yes, only okay.“

You leaned over, poking your girlfriend in the side repeatedly. You knew how ticklish she was.

“Hey, stop that!“, she protested, trying to protect her torso from you.

“Stop what?“, you played dumb, continuing to annoy her until she burst out laughing.

“This!“

“Oh, that.“

“Stop it!“

You finally backed off, giving her time to catch her breath: “Okay, okay.“

“Thanks.“, she sighed.

The doorbell interrupted you anyway.

“Oh, our dinner is here.“, you announced excitedly and stood up.

Your stomach growled as you took the food inside. The smell of take-away immediately filled the kitchen.

“Finally.“, Guro said, impatiently opening the styrofoam boxes.

You took the first bite and hummed: “Delicious as always.“

“I missed this food so much.”, the Norwegian admitted grinning. The varieties of meals you could order in London would never fail to amaze your girlfriend and yourself.

“Same but more than me?”, you replied in a teasingly tone.

“Yes, of course.”, Guro joked before taking another bite.

“What do you want to do now?”, you changed the topic swiftly.

“Like right now?”, the brunette lifted an eyebrow.

“Yes.”, you nodded enthusiastically. Being back with the person you loved most reenergized you like nothing else did.

“Spend time with you.”, she answered genuinely.

Later you both laid together lazily on your sofa and Guro called your Chelsea captain with a smirk on her face:” Hi Millie.”

“What’s up?”, the blonde responded.

“Y/n and I are busy doing gay things and we might not be at training tomorrow.”, the Scandinavian explained.

“Too much information.”, Millie giggled.

“Just letting you know.”, Guro told her friend innocently.

“I’m not covering for you tomorrow.”, the Defender announced determined.

“Please, you owe me that.”, your girlfriend reminded her sweetly.  

“Fine, but don’t ever call me again.”, Millie groaned dramatically.

“Thanks, see you.”, Guro responded gratefully.

“Bye.”, with these words they hang up.

“Gay things?”, you snorted once she has ended the call and looked into your eyes again.

“Yes, we have all night.”, the midfielder winked at you.

“And tomorrow as well.”, you remembered.

“Yes, I’ve to make up for the time we didn’t see each other.”, Guro proclaimed.

“Come here.”, you said beaming, opening your arms for a hug which she happily accepted.

With closed eyes you whispered into her ear:” You’re home now.”

Both of you knew you felt comfortable everywhere in the world, but home to you wasn’t a place, it was each other. Coming home meant returning to one another and it was one of the best feelings in the world.

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 10 | Newborn Miracle

summary: the time has finally come, you and chris are going to become parents. Both of you are filled with joy and nervousness at the same time since this is a big step both of you have to make now and you’re ready more than ever for the adventures that lay ahead of you.

warnings: none, just child birth but besides it’s just chris becoming a proud father

authors note: this idea is so adorable I love the concept of babydad!chris and I need more people to write about it, so this is your sign to go do that rn 🫵 luv yall sm and hope y’all enjoy this one

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

The sun had now began to rise, casting a golden color across the sky as I sat nervously in the passenger seat of Chris’s car, my hand clutching the hospital bag like it was a lifeline. Today was the day we had waited for, the day our lives would change forever. After months of preparing ourselves, endless conversations and debates about baby names and painting the nursery a soft shade of orange we were about to meet our little one. Chris was driving with a focused gaze I hadn’t seen before, his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

Every so often he would spare glances at me, his blue eyes shining with excitement. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, his voice being a mix of joy and disbelief at whats going to happen today. I turned to him, my heart racing as I speak. “I think so. I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life,” I replied, feeling butterflies fluttering in my stomach. The thought of actually becoming a parent was almost hard to believe . When we finally arrived at the hospital, the adrenaline kicked in.

We rushed through the automatic doors, our hearts pounding all together. The bright lights and the familiar smell of sanitary welcomed us as we checked in and were hushed towards the maternity section. The atmosphere was filled with anticipation but not just ours but from families around us, each with their own maternity story. After what felt like forever, it was time for me to be called in. Chris held my hand tightly as we walked together into the delivery room. My heart raced as I settled onto the hospital bed and feeling the cool sheets under me.

Nurses huddled around while preparing equipment for the delivery while Chris stood by my side, whispering soft words of motivation. Hours passed with the soft rhythm of contractions guiding us through the whole experience. Chris was never far from me and his presence felt like a warm blanket of comfort. He kept running his hands through my hair, his calming voice reminding me that we were in this together. “You’re doing amazing,” he softly whispered, his faith in me growing by the second. Finally, after what felt like an ongoing battle of will and strength, the moment arrived.

I could feel the overwhelming urge to push, and with each contraction, I used every ounce of strength I had left. In those intense moments, Chris’s eyes became my own. “You’ve got this, ma,” he reassured me, and I leaned into that support. With one final push and an intense surge of energy I didn’t know I had, we heard the most beautiful sound-our baby’s first ever cry. It was like music to our ears.

Suddenly, everything else faded away around us, the pain, the noise, the world outside. In that instant, all that mattered was the life that had just entered into our world. The doctor gently handed our baby to me, and my heart twisted with joy. I looked down and there they were, our little bundle of happiness in soft white blankets. Chris’s breath caught in his throat as he came closer with his eyes wide, filled with emotion all kinds of emotions. “Can I hold them?” he asked, his voice trembling with excitement. “Of course,” I smiled, shifting so he could take our baby.

Chris cradled our little one against his chest, and I watched as he radiated with pure love. He kissed their tiny forehead, an expression of shock shadowing his face. “You did it. You brought us this miracle,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion coming straight from the heart. Chris looked down at our baby as if they were the most precious treasure in the world. “I want to do skin-to-skin,” he said and I could see the excitement radiating from him. The nurses smiled approvingly and helped him gently remove his shirt, placing our baby against his bare chest.

The warmth of the moment hugged us as Chris’s skin touched our child’s delicate body. He looked at me, letting the little one into his now vulnerable heart. “Can you believe this?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. Our little one squirmed, their little hand reaching for where Chris’s heartbeat lies. I could see a connection forming, a bond that would last a lifetime. Tears filled my eyes as I watched the two of the most important people in my life together.

It was a moment of pure beauty, one I will cherish forever. Chris looked at me and grinned, as his face radiated with joy. “We’re parents,” he said, still star struck, “and this is just the beginning.” In that room surrounded by the warmth of new beginnings, we held each other close, both over the moon and overwhelmed by all of it. Our family was here, and we were ready for the wonderful adventure ahead.

@hearts4werka

Guestlist!

| - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - |

[azrielbrainrot]

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 3

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: When your own identity is challenged you're forced to find an ally in what you thought was the most unlikely place.

Warnings: Angst, Memory loss, mentions of death

Word Count: 5950

Notes: Sorry for the wait but I had to map things out to answer all the questions I started in the previous chapters (set myself up there) and lack of motivation was kicking my ass. Still, I hope you enjoy!

Part 2 ○ Part 4

You were picking at the food on your plate as Azriel stared at you, looking like he'd rather feed you himself. As hungry as you were, everything was hard to stomach. You tried to tell him as much but had only been met with a scolding, he seemed extremely interested in your health. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was content with watching you even if you never actually gave him anything. It seemed like the spymaster wasn't too preoccupied with the fact that he had caught you stealing from his High Lord.

Following your sudden breakdown, Azriel had managed to calm you down enough, insisting that you didn't talk about anything else until you ate and were ready for it. Your eyes still hurt and were probably puffy from the tears that had flowed not even an hour ago, and your head still ached, even if it didn't come anywhere close to the excruciating pain you felt before.

The same feeling as before still crawled under your skin, the same questions swirling around in your mind, but you managed to find your composure after the ache had transformed into something manageable and the tears had dried. Admittedly, you were a bit scared of prying into your mind and triggering the same reaction as before - it really had felt like your brain was trying to forcefully escape your skull.

You were still trying to make sense of everything, denying that you were missing important information wouldn't help you. There was no way Azriel was confusing you for someone else, not with the way your body reacted to him and the dreams you've had for far longer than you've been here. There was also the problem of you being a prisoner in this room, as nice and attentive as your prison guard has been there has to be a punishment waiting for you.

When your head felt like it was going to burst, you could swear someone else had barged into the room but you couldn't stay focused on it or hear what they were saying through your own desperate screams. You think you saw something red glinting, but didn't even make out anyone's form, your vision was too blurry. You're not even sure how many of them walked through the door. By the time you came to and calmed down it was only you and Azriel in the room again, and all you could feel was his arms around you, grounding you.

You bite down on another small piece of sausage, arranged as if they were meant to feed a child - you hadn't seen him cut them but you know it has to be his work - as you remembered how desperate he sounded in that moment. You're not sure if the soothing words he whispered in your ear were meant for you or for himself, he was just short of begging you to be okay. It was a little embarrassing to think about how fragile he had seen you in that moment but it was even worse remembering how intimately he held you.

Looking up at Azriel, you're not surprised to meet his eyes, they haven't left you for longer than a second, it's like he's scared you'll disappear if he looks away. You can still see the concern swirling in the beautiful hazel.

You had so many questions, knew he had even more, but you weren't sure where to even begin. Any hope of him starting to talk was evaporating faster with every second. He had told you he wouldn't bring anything up until you were ready but you thought he'd at least ask about the robbery, start off easy. You couldn't push your doubts aside any longer, it felt like you were both playing a part, ignoring the elephant in the room.

“Azriel?” His name triggers the same reaction every time you say it. You might have to go to a healer if you survive this, having your heart fluttering so often can't be healthy.

“Yes?” He leans closer letting his wings pull in closer to his body, ready to give you his undivided attention.

You've noticed how his wings move with him and can give you small clues on what he might be feeling sometimes, like a cat's ears, perking up or dropping with his emotions. The same happens with his shadows really, moving towards you when they're interested, like a tail you suppose.

“There's something wrong.” His eyes open wide and he's on his feet before you can even blink, standing over you and reaching out for your hand. That might not have been the best way to start.

“What's wrong?” He holds onto your wrist, feeling for your pulse. “Does it hurt again?”

“No, nothing hurts,” you try to calm him down, cheeks slightly flushed. “I mean this.” You gesture between the two of you, hoping he's aware of the terrified expression on his face. “You're worried about me.” He visibly relaxes at that, understanding you're not physically hurting again.

“Of course, I am.” He sits on the side of the bed, never letting go of your wrist but holding onto it a little softer, drawing circles with his thumb over your skin. You're not even sure if he's doing it on purpose, or if it simply comes naturally.

“Why would you be?” You have an idea of the answer, he's already made it more than clear that he knows you very well. “I thought you'd be guarding me to make sure I didn't escape but you've been taking care of me instead.”

His eyes roam over your desperate face, taking notice of every expression you make. He's probably scared of saying something that will send you into the same state as before, clawing at your head to stop, but you can see how much he wants to tell you, to stop pretending.

“You're my wife,” he admits, a small smile playing on his lips right after, like saying the word is enough to make him happy, and looks down at his hand still wrapped around your wrist, running his thumb down the veins to the palm of your hand, loosely holding it instead.

“I don't…” You thought there had to be some sort of romantic relationship between you and him, or the person he thinks you are, but you didn't expect him to say wife. “I've never been married.” You never even thought it would be a possibility with your job.

Him thinking you're his wife definitely answers a lot of questions, mostly the reason why you aren't in a dark dungeon after what you've done to them, but it just opens up a whole other box of chaos.

You set the plate aside, knowing you can't keep any more food down with the way the conversation has to go. You wish you could just crawl into your own bed, in your own home and wait until all of this mess passes. Running a hand down your face, you steel yourself, recognizing you need to get to the bottom of this, not only for your sake but his as well. Whatever was at play here was larger than you could have imagined.

“I don't remember you at all, Azriel,” you admit. He just nods, almost pouting, without looking away from your hand still clutched in his. “But I've dreamt about you.” He perks up at that, surprised eyes darting up to meet yours.

“I dream about you almost every night,” he admits softly, a reddish tint covering the tips of his ears.

“If I'm supposed to be your wife, should I be offended that it's not every night?” The lame joke does nothing to ease your nerves, as you intended, but the blinding smile he rewards you with certainly makes the next words easier to come out.

“What you called me before… that's not my name,” you continue slowly, “My name is Maya.”

“Maya,” he tries it out but the discomfort is obvious on his face. To your surprise, you don't like how it sounds coming from him either, while every other word he utters sounds like honey.

“I know that's my name. I know I'ver never been here or met you before,” you explain, “I know I never married you either. I can account for every year of my life, there are no gaps in my memories. You're not in any of them, neither is this house,” you look into his eyes the whole time, squeezing his hand slightly, wanting him to feel your sincerity, “but there's something wrong.”

He studies your face with an unreadable expression. If this whole situation is hard for you to wrap your head around, you can't imagine what it is like looking in from the outside. The only reason you believed him was because of your body's response to him, but all he can see is a female who looks just like his wife yet doesn't recognize him.

His hand leaves yours as he takes the ring he was wearing off slowly, taking your hand and depositing it on your palm gently.

“What's this?” It's a simple silver ring, worn out from what you assume is years of training and fighting while wearing it. Your heart palpitations come back the longer you study it, you know it.

“My wedding ring,” he almost whispers, “You had yours when…” You look up at him and he shakes his head almost imperceptibly, “I don't have it.”

You nod and let it fall on your finger, in place of where your own wedding ring would be. It's too big on you, it would likely be too loose even if you had put it on your thumb, but you almost don't want to take it off. Goosebumps spread all over your body, your heart rate picking up.

“Do you feel anything?”

“I'm not sure I can explain it,” you breathe, not fully understanding the reaction your body has to him.

“Try me,” he insisted.

“Ever since I heard about this mission and stepped foot into this city, it feels like my brain is screaming at me to remember something really important but I can't,” you say, watching the way the wedding band hangs around your finger, “and when I put this ring on just now.” You hold up your hand for him to see, the light catching on it.

You look up at him before continuing, “When I first saw you. When you told me your name. When I… When I stabbed you.” Your eyes travel to his stomach, where an open wound had been just a few hours ago. “I feel a pain in my chest.” It makes itself known again as you think of the way his blood had dripped down your hands. “Holding the ring feels right. Saying your name feels right. But hurting you… didn't.” You take a deep breath in, knowing there's no going back, “So, as insane as this whole situation is, I think I believe you, Azriel.”

The admission lingers in the air as both of you feel its weight. Acknowledging the particular situation you've found yourselves in is only the beginning. Now you must try to understand what happened and how to fix things, if you want that. Part of recognizing what Azriel told you as the truth comes with accepting that some of your life was a lie, and, at this moment, you have no tangible evidence for what is real or not aside from the goosebumps you get when the male in front of you touches you. You don't even know who you truly are.

“If you say I'm your wife then what made me leave?”

“You didn't,” the hesitation is almost tangible in his tone, “I thought you were dead.” Your hand immediately shoots up to your neck, feeling the softened scar under your fingertips. The movement seems to break the dam holding his emotions in check, making everything flow out at once.

“I don't know what happened,” he lets go of you and stands up, running a hand through his hair and pacing around as he explained with an anguished voice, “It was a simple mission. We never found out how exactly but it looked like you were taken by surprise and attacked by bandits. My shadows told me they couldn't sense you so I went to meet you but when I got there all I saw was blood. There was so much blood.”

When he meets your eyes again you can clearly see the tears gathering in them, the pain that still lingers from recalling that moment.

“I looked for you. We all did. We searched in every corner of the world, I sent spies everywhere. We found the bandits and made them talk but when they left your body was still there and your throat was cut.” His wings droop, the bottoms of it touching the floor. Azriel looks defeated. “We thought you were dead. I tried denying it for a while but it came to a point where I couldn't anymore. But now you're here and I- Fuck. I should have kept looking. I shouldn't have given up so easily.”

“Azriel,” you call for him, bringing his attention back to you. The desperation and raw pain in his voice were breaking your heart. “Whatever happened wasn't your fault.”

“I should have found you,” he whispers, completely contrasting with his tone mere moments before.

“You thought I was dead.” The words are hard to form, and you can't linger on them too long. You always knew the injury you suffered was severe, that it had been near miraculous that you survived but finding out there were people out there that truly believed you were dead was chilling. “This whole situation still feels impossible, there's no way you could have known I was still alive.”

He nods at you, but you can clearly see he can't let go of it. The attentiveness and overprotection he's been showing you makes much more sense now. Azriel sits on the chair he has barely left since you were brought to this room. He seems to try to regain his composure, combing back the hair he had tousled and bringing his wings up closer to his body again. But his eyes don't meet yours like before.

You fall back against the headboard, the impact softened by the pillows he fluffled out for you, picking at his wedding ring still on your finger. You feel like you're going insane. Maybe letting the guild find you wouldn't be so bad, at least they'd put you out of your misery. Though it's hard to ignore the fact that they seem to be the ones who put you in this situation, letting you live a lie for almost a century.

“It's been a century since then,” you repeated aloud, “And you still…” Love me? You wanted to say, but that wasn't really you, not for now at least. You don't remember anything of your time together, or about yourself. Maybe the only thing that survived was your body. There's a possibility that the female he loved had actually died, that he'll never fully get her back even if you regain your memories.

“I told you,” the smile you witnessed earlier comes back to his face, even if with only half the prior intensity, “I dream about you almost every night.”

“This doesn't make any sense.” You had moved to sit cross legged over the covers, tired of laying in bed when your body wasn't even hurting. Nibbling on a chocolate cookie the House, who Azriel told you is sort of sentient, gave you.

“I know.” He had calmed down since his outburst, going back to what you assume is closer to his usual demeanor, though he might not always act the same as when his dead wife is sitting across from him. His shadows seemed to have relaxed as well, most of them had left him in favor of swirling around the room like smoke. “When I saw you in the living room, I thought you came back.”

“But I came to rob you instead.”

He lets out a chuckle, “I couldn't have imagined that in my wildest dreams.” His gaze turns a bit more serious before he adds, “my High Lord and High Lady want to speak to you.”

“I figured as much.” You were actually surprised they hadn't shown up yet, the sun was already close to setting. “Did you tell them you think I'm your wife?”

“They know. You and Rhys were friends too.”

The thought that you could be friends with a High Lord is almost laughable, but so was being married to his shadowsinger and yet the fluttering of your heart every time he speaks to you in that deep, soft voice of his doesn't lie.

You think for a bit, remembering the information you had been granted before coming on your mission. Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, the most powerful one in history and the bearer of one of the most sought-after and frightening abilities - daemati. It's said his mate, the recently turned fae, Feyre Archeron, shares the same talent.

“Is it true that he's a daemati?” He simply nods, knowing you're following his train of thought.

“You want him to look into my head.”

“He might be able to find out what happened to you,” he nods, “the reason you forgot me, forgot us.”

“And you're sure he'll want to help me after what I did? He looked pretty mad when I saw him last night,” you say as you chew on your lip.

Granting him passage into your mind might be more than a leap of faith. You've found it easy to talk to Azriel, to trust him, but you haven't met anyone else, and can't trust they won't want to hurt you. Azriel seemed to not care much about your initial reason for coming to the court or even what you did to him but you can't expect everyone to feel the same, even if they had been your friends a century ago. And a daemati could break you beyond repair, even just seeing their abilities in action has always left you unsettled.

“Rhys won't hurt you,” he tells you, his face showing he has no doubts about his words.

“It's not like I have much of a choice anyway,” you brush the crumbs off your nightgown, stretching your legs and moving until you are sitting at the edge of the mattress. It brought you closer to him, your knees brushing his, the feeling of the leather feeling oh so familiar against your bare skin, making your next words come out breathier than you wanted them to, “You can call them.”

Something flashes across his tantalizing eyes when he looks down at your bare legs, noting the change in your tone, but it disappears when he looks back at you, nodding softly and letting his eyelids shut as if to level himself. Some of his shadows come back to him and, as his silence prolongs, you realize he must be speaking to them in his mind, calling his High Lord just as you asked.

The pressure in the room changes as soon as he opens his eyes, the air getting harder to breathe. It's not as strong as what you'd felt the night before but the tamed magic is enough to have the hairs on the back of your neck stand, and a shiver to run down your spine. You truly hope Azriel is right about them.

Azriel stands just as the door opens to reveal his High Lord followed closely by his mate. His unreadable purple eyes study your stiff form, walking inside the room and letting Feyre close the door behind them. She seems more serene, not showing any obvious hostility towards you but you know not to underestimate the human who freed the fae of Prythian.

You stand when they stop in front of you, not letting fear make you appear weak. If they chose to hold you accountable for your actions you would accept their punishment head on.

The first word out of the High Lord's lips is the same name Azriel had called you before, and the same feeling of deja vu consumes you once more.

“Maya,” you correct. His head tilts to the side briefly, before looking over at Azriel who is watching the scene unfold warily.

“Well Maya,” his eyes meet yours again, “Are you going to explain why I've found you lurking around my house?” The venom was clear in his voice, but you expected as much.

“I was sent here on a mission,” you say as emotionlessly as you can, just like the guild taught you, “I was supposed to find an ancient book with a particular set of runes, it seems it belonged to your grandfather.” You hope the lack of information doesn't make you appear suspicious because it truly is the only thing the guild had deemed enough for you to be able to complete your mission. “Since I failed the mission, they've probably already sent assassins after me, in case I tell you or anyone about them.”

“No one is going to hurt you,” Azriel promises, anger rising at the mention of someone wanting to kill you.

“You were in the wrong place for that,” the High Lord responds after a moment, and watching Azriel's reaction. “The book is in the library under this House.”

“It doesn't matter now.”

“You're right, it doesn't. What I want to know is where you've been all these years and why you attacked my brother.”

The pressure in the room increased again but you could now see it was the result of him trying to hold his power down even though his temper was rising.

“Rhys,” his mate warns, but it falls on deaf ears, his striking eyes never leaving yours.

“I don't remember you or him,” you admit.

“So he's told me.” Rhysand didn't sound too convinced. “You won't mind if I check for myself right?” He barely made it sound like a question but you nod in answer all the same.

Black talons scrape along your mental walls as soon as you give him permission, you lower them for him, pushing everything the guild taught you aside, inviting the enemy straight into your mind. If they could see you now you would definitely be mocked and executed on the spot.

His presence is barely felt in your mind before a sharp pain takes your senses, similar to the one you'd felt before. You squeeze your eyes shut, hands moving to hold your head. Scarred hands are on you immediately, holding you up against a strong body before your knees meet the ground. As the talons retreat from your mind, the pressure lessens and you take a few deep breaths before opening your eyes.

When you manage to blink away the wetness making your vision blurry, you find the High Lord looking at you with wide eyes, remorse clear on his face and his mate holding onto his arm.

“What did you do to her?” Azriel's voice was rough with barely restrained anger.

The High Lord ignores him, looking into your eyes as he explains with a notably softer tone than earlier, “There is something blocking your memories. When I tried to bypass it… It hurt you.”

“What does that mean?” Your voice was scratchy, a dull ache lingering in your head. You lean away from Azriel and sit back on the mattress. No use trying to act tough, you're truly at their mercy.

“It means I can't access your memories for the time being,” the change in his demeanor would give you whiplash if the pain you were feeling gave way long enough for you to focus on anything else, “I've never seen anything like this, there's no way of knowing what it can do to you.”

“I think your memories aren't only being blocked,” he's still speaking directly at you but you can't really wrap your mind around anything at the moment, letting them discuss amongst themselves. “They're being overwritten at the same time.”

“That's why she forgot Azriel but remembers her life at the guild?”

“I've never heard of anything like that,” Azriel's voice sounds further away, you almost want to reach out and pull him back to you.

“Me neither,” the High Lord admits, watching your crouched form warily. “We'll have to ask Amren and research it in the library but it's the only explanation.” You find yourself nodding, even if you don't know Amren you understand the ancient creature might be able to help, if she wants to that is.

“At least your mental walls are still intact. They're the same ones I taught you to build.”

“No, I learned at the guild,” you finally look up at him, sweat still covering your forehead.

“There's still an open channel, like an open door for me to be able to talk to you.” So I can do this. You can't help but jump slightly at the sound of his voice in your mind, and the promise of a smile twitches on his lips. It doesn't go unnoticed that the talons moved a lot more carefully in your mind, almost tenderly.

“You're staying in this house until we can be sure you're not a threat.” His eyes move to Azriel's, an unimpressed look taking over his face at the scowl the shadowsinger sends him. “In the meantime you can fill Azriel in on everything you can about the guild. I want to know if there's a chance they'll try to attack us again.”

“We'll try to find any information on what is blocking your memories and keep you safe from the guild in exchange,” the High Lady adds, “It's a fair trade for both parties.”

You can't tell if she's saying it to convince you or her mate but appreciate the sentiment nonetheless. Also noticing how she omits the biggest reason for this mutual cooperation - the shadowsinger standing by your side.

⋆｡°✩°｡⋆

His hair was still wet when he started dressing himself, not wanting to leave you waiting for too long, as much as he hated to admit it he wasn't too happy about leaving you with Feyre either. He can tell everyone is still suspicious of you, even after Rhys tried to read into her memories to find nothing, stuck between their memories and stories they heard about you and the image of you stabbing a knife through his stomach.

Azriel knows his High Lady, his friend, wouldn't hurt you, but you're in a complicated situation at the moment and he doesn't want to find out what that guild has taught you to do in cases such as these, doesn't even want to think what Feyre would do to stop you. She didn't know you before, meaning she wouldn't have any reason to hold back if not for his sake - something he knows she wouldn't put above saving Velaris, he would never ask that of her either.

It's hard to accept he doesn't know how you'll react in certain situations, there was a time he knew you better than he knew himself. Now, he can't even begin to understand what you must have been through working for a world known assassin guild.

He'd obviously heard about them before, he wouldn't be a decent Spymaster if he hadn't. There wasn't much information on them, no one knew how large the group even was since there were rumors other groups were actually integrated in the guild. Names for it vary as well.

Even if you hadn't tried to steal from his High Lord, he knows he'll have to try getting as much information about them from you as he can, for his court's sake, and he can only pray you'll give it to him willingly or he'll have to let go of his position.

He doesn't know how you've been able to bear the guilt a job like this brings. As much as you've forgotten, your personality didn't seem to change a lot. You always reminded him of Cassian at times like these, gratuitous killing had never been for you. He hopes you don't have to deal with the torment he had been through in the first decades of working for the former High Lord, his soul had never recovered from everything he'd seen and done during that time.

Noticing his shadows reach up his shoulders, he physically shakes the dark thoughts out of his brain. Everything has been going better than expected, not only did you agree to cooperate but Rhys had given you the benefit of the doubt. You also agreed to have dinner with him so you could talk more.

He just told you he'd be joining you for dinner, omitting how excited, downright giddy, he felt at just the idea. It had been so long since you two shared a meal, talking for hours while enjoying the tasty food the House prepared for you.

He couldn't recall the last time he'd been this nervous for an outing, even if it wasn't exactly that - it was simply a trip to one of the House of Wind's guest rooms. Going as far as picking clothes in your favorite colors on him, letting the top buttons on his shirt undone because he knows how much you liked seeing the beginnings of his swirling bargain marks.

All of this could be for nothing, you don't remember him after all, but, he was almost certain your body did in some way and it gave him hope. You calmed down in his arms just as you did a century ago, said his name in the same sweet cadence and never shied away from his touch, from his hands. His shadows told him as much. Sang to him about the way goosebumps rose in your skin at his touch and attentiveness, how your thoughts and intuition warred in his favor. He refused to let his thoughts deter him.

When he gets to the room he sees you and Feyre standing by the dresser, almost wanting to apologize for winnowing in instead of knocking first, but he can't seem to find any words as he sees you've changed as well, ditching the nightgown in favor of a sleeveless dress that went down to your knees. The cobalt blue was as striking against your skin as he remembered, the garment in itself was simple enough yet in his eyes you had never looked so stunning.

Feyre must have been the one to give you the dress, he was only surprised it had taken her so long to meddle in your relationship. If there were any doubts, they were quickly answered when she threw him a knowing smile before excusing herself from the room.

“I'm guessing the blue is supposed to match those gems you wear.”

“Siphons,” he offers, entranced by the way you walk closer to him, the silky fabric moving with your body and giving you an ethereal glow.

“Did I used to do that a lot?”

“Yes.” He observes the way your eyes run over his body, lingering on the unbuttoned shirt. Seems like his old tricks still work. “I always loved seeing you in blue.”

You tilt your head to the side slightly, biting the inside of your lip the way you always did. He tries to stand as still as possible without appearing too awkward, making sure you knew it was alright to do with him anything that crossed your pretty brain. You seem to make up your mind as you walk closer to him.

“Can I see them?” You hold up your palm and he holds his hand over it without hesitation, letting you grab onto his hand to study the glowing siphon. The swirling light shone in your eyes and he can't help but be reminded of the first time you asked him to do the same exact thing shortly after meeting him.

“All Illyrian warriors have them,” he explains, “They're used to help us control our powers.”

“It's beautiful.” He tries not to let his wings twitch as you now hold his hand with both of yours. “I don't think I've seen anything like this before.”

“You have,” he can't help the somber smile that crosses his face. The reminder makes you look away from his hand to watch him, a conflicted expression falling over your pretty face. “You always liked them.”

The abrupt change in the atmosphere has him asking the house to get the room ready for your dinner. Not being able to hide the smile as he watches your amazed expression at the table that pops up beside you, full of delicious looking food and decorated with candlesticks, the faelights around the room dim in favor of the candlelight.

“I only asked for the food,” he admits with a bashful expression. He's glad you can't tell that, aside from the candles, the plates were also some of the fanciest ones. The House was going all out for the two of you.

He uses the grip you had on his hand to guide you to the chair and help you sit before making his way to his own seat, settling down and giving order for the House to serve both of you. Letting himself enjoy every little expression you made as you eat and listening to anything you felt like telling him, also answering all your questions about the House and the food.

He knows this doesn't have the same meaning to you as it does to him, knows that, as much as you don't seem to hate his company, you're more interested in finding out more about the version of you in his memories, trying to make sense of your own identity. It's hard to imagine how this whole thing must feel for you, finding out half of your life was made up and that you forgot such an important part of it. Still, this must be the best night he's had in a century.

You set your elbows on the table and rest your face on your hands, watching him with undivided attention as he tells you about his sparring match with Cassian. Your eyes don't leave his face after he finishes, appearing lost in thought. He lets you gather them, relishing in the comfortable silence. He'd be content with simply watching you for eternity.

You let out a soft sigh and lean back against the chair, closing your eyes for a few seconds before meeting his gaze again.

“What happens if I never remember you, Azriel?” Your voice barely above a whisper.

The question and the uncertainty in your voice as you asked it make him pause. He keeps trying to push back the thought that you won't regain your memories but it seems you were having the same doubts.

Just last week, he wouldn't have believed having you back was even a possibility, so getting your memories back can't be out of reach, it just can't. He was ready to give his life to make it so.

Still, he witnessed how painful it had been for you when Rhys simply tried to access your memories, he'd also told him trying harder, forcefully, could break your mind completely. If their research doesn't go well, if they can't find who did this to you, there might not be another way of bringing your memories back.

But he'd sooner die than live another day without you, whether your memories come back or not.

“I'll make you fall for me again.”

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[daistea]

Heyyyy! What would it be like if reader is pregnant with Mithrun's child, post story mithrun?

Tw pregnancy / children lol / 

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.

Whether the pregnancy is planned or not really depends on you and your relationship.

If you want a child on purpose, it would take some time and patience and convincing to get Mithrun on board. Pre-dungeon he was far too busy doing hot girl stuff to think about starting a family. Post-dungeon he was far too busy trying to stay alive and getting revenge to think about anything else. Post-canon, give him some time. He needs to figure out how to live. Once he’s settled for a bit, he’ll hear you out. 

If you’re a tall-man or some other short lived race, then he’s even more opposed. Not because you’re not good enough to have a baby with, or that he’s afraid of what society will think, but because how they age is so different. It’s a huge challenge. And halflings have difficult lives. It feels a bit cruel. He wouldn’t usually care whether or not he’s cruel, but this is different. This is one of his new purposes in life and he refuses to mess it up. 

However, in the end a child is still a product of love. You just discuss the ethics a lot. Even if you’re a long-lived race, he still takes into consideration the world and your families and how you’re living.

If the baby is unplanned… You break the news to him and he just disappears for a few hours. He was walking through the woods in silence. He made eye contact with a deer that had a fawn. It was a very spiritual moment. 

He returns ready to take on this challenge, exhibiting 2% more enthusiasm and motivation than he does most things. 

Mithrun is already quite protective, but it gets more intense once you’re pregnant. He watches you like a hawk. It’s actually kind of annoying and you have to tell him to chill out (he does not, but he will stop hovering so you don’t get stressed out)

As you get further along, he accompanies you when you leave the house. He prefers to be near in case anything happens, despite how safe Melini is in general. However, if you’re far along then you probably don’t want to be walking around anyway. 

Already, Mithrun is willing to do anything for his partner— as long as it doesn’t get in the way of his or your shared goals. He’s partly willing to do anything because that’s just the nature of his lack of desires. Yet, one of his new desires is to please you, so his willingness is also just for his own enjoyment. (I might develop this idea further sometime, the ensuing issues from complete willingness would be interesting to explore.)

So, it’s two in the morning and you want a very specific snack? Mithrun is already very nonchalantly pulling on his boots and leaving to get it, without you even having to ask. You stop him though because he’s about to go knock on a merchant’s door so they’ll open just for him. But if something is open, he’ll get it. If it’s possible for him to make it himself, he’ll make it. 

On his journeys to retrieve your snacks, though, he gets lost. Many times Melini guard or a friend has shown up at your door with Mithrun in tow like ‘is this yours?’

Mithrun doesn’t hide his emotions, per se, he just doesn’t connect with them enough to display them most of the time. So his anticipation for the baby doesn’t show much. It’s through his actions that you realize how he’s feeling. He touches your belly a lot, waiting for the baby to kick (he is very determined and very focused on the matter) and of course, as I said, he’s determined to give you whatever you need. Sometimes, when he’s kneeling in front of you, touching your belly, he furrows his brows a little in this small expression. It’s as if he’s confused as to why he loves this little baby so much already, when he hasn’t even met them. Parenthood is a very unfamiliar concept to him and he has trouble connecting with the idea, despite his decision to do well. 

He contemplates his own childhood a bit during this time, something he wouldn’t usually bother doing. He approaches the matter objectively, not feeling much of anything about how he grew up. He doesn’t really psychoanalyze himself. But he does make the decision to raise his child a bit differently than how he was raised. 

He becomes a little clingy at this time. Even before the pregnancy, he always found some way to be touching you, but it becomes more pronounced. He’ll have his hand on your stomach a lot, or pull you into his lap and bury his face in your hair. 

Mithrun is very prepared when you’re on outings together. You meet up with the Canaries for dinner or something and you need… Idk what pregnant people need. Napkins? Nausea medicine? Water, obviously, and good shoes. He has snacks too. He nonchalantly reaches into this overstuffed bag and pulls out what you need and the Canaries are like oooooooooo

Fleki asks if they should call him Daddy now. Mithrun doesn’t bother protesting because he knows they’ll do that no matter what he says. 

You and Mithrun are mamá y papá. Fleki and Lycion say they’re your free trial children. Modern au they beg to go to Mcdonalds and you’re like ‘ask your father’ so Mithrun pulls into the Mcdonalds drive through to shut them up. They cheer. He orders a single black coffee and drives away. 

If you get nausea early on in the pregnancy, he doesn’t really know what to do. He’ll hold back your hair if you need it. 

He does some research on what you can and can’t do while pregnant and becomes a know-it-all. 

Mithrun gives girl-dad energy, but he wouldn’t care what gender the baby is in the end. 

He doesn’t really know how to physically handle you. He’s never hurt you or been rough before (unless you wanted that) but he becomes way more gentle. 

If you headcanon that his parents are still alive, I feel like he wouldn’t really care whether they know about the baby or not. They’d probably find out through his brother. 

In fact, he doesn’t tell anyone the news. You and Mithrun visit his brother randomly and there you are, pregnant, months along, and his brother is like …Mithrun? Is your wife.. Pregnant? He just glances at you, then back to him, completely unfazed. Yeah. She is. 

Or his brother visits after the baby is born. He knocks on the door and Mithrun answers with the baby in a little carrier hanging from his chest. He doesn’t even acknowledge it or the fact that his brother had no idea, not unless his brother acknowledges it first. Mithrun’s just casually giving the baby a bottle or toys and his brother is waiting for him to explain why he thought it was a good idea to not inform his family that he was expecting?!

There was no pregnancy announcement. You were just with child one day and the world had no choice but to accept that. 

Modern au, he might have a very simple banner that says ‘it is a baby’ with a few sad, half-blown up balloons taped to the wall. You’re both just awkwardly standing beside it, staring into the camera. He texts this to his family or the Canaries with no caption then proceeds to ignore the ensuing panicked phone calls. 

He does not care what you name them as long as it’s not stupid.

Until a name is decided, you both just call them a placeholder name. (“How’s The Bean doing today?” “They’re kicking more than usual.”)

After they’re born, Bean sticks and turns into an affectionate nickname!

Mithrun walks around with the baby strapped to his chest. If you have twins and someone comments on the baby strapped to him, he just turns around and there’s another baby on his back. Yeah he open carries brandishes his son or daughter

Since he’s awake most of the time, I think he’d take over night duty a lot. He might fall asleep with the baby cuddled up in his arms or against his chest. 

He has to be taught how to change a diaper, but he learns quickly and becomes quite fast and proficient at it. 

He does not care if he’s covered in baby drool. He doesn’t get icked out easily. 

He’ll be feeding the baby, and if he needs his hands for something else he’ll just casually stick the spoon in his mouth to free up his hands. Some baby food tastes so bad but he can’t really taste it anyway. 

He can be found holding the baby often, with them usually leaning over his shoulder, held up by one of his hands (when they’re old enough to lift themselves a bit, of course.)

He is very careful with them as a newborn. 

He’s also very prepared at this point as well. He will be the one carrying the huge diaper bag most of the time. 

When they’re born, his first question for you is ‘are you okay?’ (You’re not, you just gave birth, idiot) but once that’s out of the way, his second question is ‘why does our baby look like a lumpy potato?’ as newborns frequently do.

In all, it’s a complicated subject for him. But he eases into the idea and the life, and he tries his best. He’s not the most emotionally present father, he’s imperfect as we all are, but he thinks things through and tries to make decisions that will benefit the growth of the child. He’s willing to make sacrifices. But he still gets very lost when going out to grab milk and your child is like ‘is daddy ever coming home?’ and you’re like sigh. Come on let's go find your father. 

[babygirlwritessmut]

♡︎ part3. first impression

・❥・pairing: vi (arcane) x fem!reader

・❥・ summary: first day university was almost a fail. the tension between you and Vi picked up the pace, for how long can you handle it?

・❥・ genre: smut + grumpy x sunshine

・❥・ word count: 2.3k

✎ warnings: 18+, masturbation, dom!vi, swearing, teasing, bullying

MINORS DNI!

RIDE ON ME masterlist

the next morning, you were getting ready to go to the university. you put on a beautiful black skirt and thin black tights, then chose your favorite white shirt, which beautifully accentuated your curves. you packed everything you needed into your bag and took one last look in the mirror. elegant but also refined. first impressions are always important, and you wanted to show off your knowledge and the fact that you’re not boring - "I hope my outfit hints at that."

all morning, you tried to distract yourself from thoughts of Vi, of her pink hair and strong physique. you weren't ready to face her after last night's... conversation, so you got up earlier than planned and hoped she would still be asleep when you left. and that's exactly how it turned out.

on your way to the university, you mentally reviewed everything you knew, thinking that even answering one question from the lecturer would make a mark on the first day. since you didn't get a chance to have breakfast at your place, you stopped by a café near the campus, where some students were already chatting about professors and schedules. after ordering a coffee and a chocolate croissant, you took a seat by the window. the pace of the new city amazed you, back in your quiet town, there were never so many people out and about, hurrying to work or stuck in traffic in the early hours. it was surprising and motivating. the quiet buzz of the café brought you back to thoughts about studying and the first day, but something unpleasant interrupted your enjoyable breakfast - a familiar, irritating voice.

“yeah, that was seriously hot, I think she's in love with me!” - it was Kate with her friends. "can I have one moment of peace?"

“yeah, she's so hot, this time she'll definitely ask me out on a date,” - you couldn't help but snort with laughter, watching her telling her friends these silly stories.

"wait, why is everyone suddenly quiet? and why is everyone looking at me?"

“do you have a problem, or is your croissant cracking jokes?” - Kate started walking towards you with her entourage. she was very elegantly dressed, -  "I think her shoes were from a very expensive brand, just like her bag and a dress... she has a taste."

“um, no, no problem, it's just that the croissant is really funny,” — you tried to defuse the situation with a joke.

“are you slow or something, newbie?” - she rolled her eyes at you – “they let anyone into the public programs these days, and now I have to walk alongside them,” - Kate turned back to her friends to check if they were laughing at her "joke."

"anyone? did she just imply that I'm poor or what? no, I'm not letting this slide."

“yes, the public program. for your information, they accept not only the poor, 'with whom you have to walk alongside,' but also those who passes the exams successfully, bitch. if you spent less time thinking about whether certain someone would ask you out after they kick you out of their place without a hint of the phone call you so desperately wanted, and more time studying, maybe you'd get it,” - I think I'm saying too much.

Kate let out a nervous laugh - "what are you even talking about, newbie?" - she gave you a once-over, wondering if you had guessed about Vi’s reaction or if you knew something.

seeing the tension in Kate's eyes, you decided to add quietly but still loud enough for people around to hear - "calling a partner in bed 'daddy' is a bit weird, maybe you should consult a... specialist?" - everyone in the café gasped.

"looks like I crossed the line, I shouldn't have done that, why am I acting like a jealous bitch?"

you cringed slightly at your own words, "I have no right to comment on someone else's private life, especially after eavesdropping without having one of my own."

“look, I'm sorry, I…” - you tried to say, but Kate cut you off with her loud voice.

“so, you’re the new roommate of Vi? I was wondering when we'd meet. listen to me carefully, newbie, you don't know anything about me or my relationship with Vi. why don't you just shut up and go back to whatever cave you crawled out of,” - Kate was visibly upset, and you could feel the eyes of everyone in the café on you. it was so quiet that even the coffee machine seemed to have stopped.

Kate stepped closer to you and whispered so only you could hear – “do you think I won't get you kicked out of there too?”

with a smile, she left the café while everyone else was still staring at you. "not the first impression I planned."

after that total breakfast failure, you could only hope the rumors wouldn't make it to the campus. you worried that people might think you're some creep who eavesdrops on other people's private sex life. but in a way, it was true…

the first classes went by normally. yes, you caught a few glances, but that might just be curiosity about a new face. during the third and final class, you even managed to make some friends among your classmates. they were just as you imagined - smart, fun, and interesting. everything was going great, until one of your new acquaintances asked you a tricky question while saying goodbye.

“hey, were you the one who confronted Kate this morning?” - a tall guy from your group asked.

“I wouldn't say I confronted her, I just said a bit too much,” - you said, looking clearly embarrassed as you stared at the ground.

“look, she kind of had it coming. but keep in mind that she has this rich-girl complex, so don’t be surprised if she starts spreading nasty rumors about you tomorrow. Kate’s the type who still cares about class distinctions and other nonsense. her rich parents basically founded the biggest law firm in the city, and that's where she’s aiming. I think she’s just under a lot of pressure, and that’s why she acts like a total bitch," - shared your classmate.

hearing this, you felt even worse - "I had no right to judge or comment on anything, but she's no saint either. I guess I should apologize, even if it makes things worse."

“thanks for letting me know. happy first day, everyone! I’ll be heading home now," - you said with relief, exhausted by the day’s events, wanting nothing more than to lie down on your bed and close your eyes, even if just for five minutes. the thought that your roommate might be home made your heart race.

“yeah, but don’t forget about the party tonight to kick off the school year. we’re expecting you, no excuses! we’ll send you the details,” - your new friends called after you.

on your way home, you wondered whether you should go to the club, your fatigue was clouding your judgment, but it was a chance to escape the house for the evening and strengthen new friendships. maybe even make some real friends?

“I can’t say no, I have to go, it’s my celebration too. I deserve to have fun,” — you mumbled to yourself as you walked home.

half an hour later, after a slow walk, you finally made it home.

the thought of facing Vi after your flirtatious exchange yesterday was unbearable. you wanted to see her, but the way your body reacted whenever you thought about her words didn`t add confidence. there had always been little sexual tension in your life, to put it mildly. your past partners never made you feel enough emotions to sustain a long-term relationship. it was always the same: meeting, a few dates, sex, a communication that would fizzle out after a few months - that was pretty much the story of all your relationships. sad, but true.

when you got home, you saw Vi on the couch, and your body immediately tensed, but you calmed yourself to make sure she didn’t notice. "sweaty again, must have been working out," - you thought - "maybe if I pretend nothing happened, it’ll be better?"

“hi, Vi, I’m home,” - you said as calmly as possible, trying not to let your voice tremble.

she slowly turned to look at you, glanced at your outfit, and then turned back to the TV and her bag of chips. "I hope that’s not the only thing she’s eaten all day," - you thought.

“how was your day?” - you still tried to keep your tone steady.

“very interesting. I worked out, showered, and then got a message saying my roommate likes to share my sex life with strangers,” - she turned to look you straight in the eyes.

"fuck"

“sorry about that, Kate was just really rude, and I couldn’t hold back. I just really wanted to take a jab at her,” - you started to explain, not breaking eye contact with Vi.

“don’t do it again,” - "and that’s it? well, at least she’s not mad at me. I think."

you desperately wanted to change the subject, so after tossing your bag into your room, you started talking about the first thing that came to mind.

“how can you even eat that junk? I thought athletes were supposed to eat healthy,” - you said, pointing to the bag of chips with a slight smile.

“want me to eat you instead, cupcake?” - she said with a grin, seemingly teasing you on purpose.

your body reacted instantly to that, a light vibration running through your stomach, bringing vivid images to your mind: "you on your bed, your favorite shirt crumpled and unbuttoned so that your chest is completely exposed, your skirt lifted, and your tights torn between your legs. Vi’s face at the level of your most intimate place, her fingers gently trailing along your inner thigh as if she hadn’t just thrown you on the bed and literally ripped your clothes off. "cupcake, you are very attractive now." she pulls your black panties aside with her fingers and speaks so close to your wetness that you feel the vibration - "I guess now we'll see if you'll moan sweetly for me"

you suddenly felt yourself getting wet. unable to take her comments anymore, you turned and went to the room.

the only option to calm your nerves is to take a shower. you wanted her so badly that you hated the feeling - “why can't we just talk? no, I can. she is the one making comments that confuse people. now I'm definitely going to the party, I can't be here today."

throwing your clothes on the floor, you went into the shower, hot water and your favorite shower gel that you brought from home - perfect. when your hands started soaping your body, you felt that you were still tense. your nipples were hard and the bottom of your stomach was very sore. after a second's pause, you decided that it is better to relieve this tension.

after getting out of the shower, you headed towards your bed. slipping under the warm and soft blanket completely naked, your hands began to explore your body. for a long time you have satisfied your needs on your own, sometimes even after having sex with your partners. your body needed special attention, time, touches, words... unfortunately, you rarely got it.

your hand began to stimulate the nipple, squeezing it a little. a wave of pleasure immediately ran through your body. your eyes were closed, you concentrated on the sensations. after a minute, previous images started to return to your head. "want me to eat you instead, cupcake?"

“yes” - a soft moan escaped from you. your other hand went down to your wetness. you started running your fingers and feeling how much you were really turned on. the pad of your middle finger began massaging your clit and another moan escaped you. at this point you didn't care if Vi could hear you. "let her hear, she's not the only one who can tease" - with this thought you launched your middle finger inside of you. it was so pleasant that without waiting even a minute the second finger was inside you too. you fingered yourself as you picked up the pace. in your head you only heard the phrase "yes, baby, come for me". you felt that you were already getting close, after a few movements of your fingers, a wave of pleasure enveloped your body again, but already stronger and you came, letting out a moan from your lips.

a text with the address of the party appeared on your phone. you put on a dress and started looking at yourself in the mirror. a simple short black dress that highlighted your curves fits you perfectly. you styled your hair half-up, which exposed your neck. “not bad,” - you said to yourself.

as you left the room, you noticed that Vi was in the kitchen, seemingly preparing dinner. she looked at you very slowly, letting her gaze linger on the curves of your body. you chose not to show that you noticed it. putting on your shoes, you opened the door and stepped outside.

[velvetsainz]

summary: [ cl16 x fem!reader ] charles is in maranello but that doesn't mean he can't help. part one.

word count: 1.3k

content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), porn with a dash of plot, use of explicit language, phone/skype sex, masturbation, toys, overstimulation, praise kink, google-translated french (kay strikes again), fluff, i still really like em dashes

a/n: part twooooooooo! (you can totally read this before part i—this is just a sister smutlet ;) ) i've been really pleased with the response to part i, so i was super duper motivated to get this cranked out for you guys. there's mentions to previous encounters, and i'm very tempted to flesh those out in the future along with the allusions to future events. anyways, eat up! enjoy, loves! xx

You could be a tease, but Charles Leclerc was a bigger one.  

“Charles, I swear to God that—”

“That what, chérie? Hm?,” he asked as he quirked an eyebrow to you, waiting for you to answer as he watched over the Skype call.  You let out a frustrated sigh, sinking back into the bed and allowing your thighs to relax once more.

“So impatient, mon ange…,” he chided, hand working slowly, lazily over his length.  You were on the doorstep of your climax when he’d suddenly cut the power to the delicious little bullet in your hand.  He’d been teasing you for a solid thirty minutes now, listening to soft moans and needy whines as he built you up before allowing your orgasm to recede away once more.

You scoffed, brow furrowing and lid heavy with need.  “Well yes, but-but–,” you stammered as you tried to think of some good reason why you just needed to come.  You couldn’t—no reason that would be particularly compelling when he was like this.

As much as you enjoyed your games with your fiancé, your thighs were beginning to cramp and you swore you were going to have to change the sheets now, too.

You’d gotten on your usual Wednesday night call, mood worse than usual.  It’d been a long day and you were just ready to put it all behind you, bury yourself in the fluffy duvet of your shared bed, and scroll TikTok aimlessly for a few hours to allow yourself the time to rot in peace.

Charles, on the other hand, had other ideas.  If he’d been there, he’d have happily buried his head between your legs until you couldn’t put together a coherent thought and the tension had melted from your shoulders and jaw.  Seeing as he was in Maranello, though, he had to find another way to get you in a better headspace.

Enter: the vibrator.

Well, a remote-controlled bullet.  One that he could control with an app on his phone, the bastard. Some men found toys in the bedroom to be a competitor, but the Monégasque saw them as an accomplice of sorts; they were friends, not enemies.

In the moment, though, the little fucker sure as hell seemed like an enemy to you.

“Please, baby,” you whined for him, pouting with glossy eyes to the camera, “you already know it’s been a long day.”

Charles hummed, taking pity on you as he turned the vibe on once more to a low-power setting. You took a stunted breath, eyes closing as pleasure rolled through you once again.  The sound went straight to his cock, angry red in his hand as precum leaked over the vice grip he held it in.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” you whimpered fervently as the toy kicked up another speed, sending you careening towards your climax.

“I wish I could be there, chérie,” he coaxed as he watched you start panting once again, breaths coming in stuttering bursts with whines trapped in the back of your throat. “J'adore entendre tous ces jolis sons, ma jolie,” Charles purred, pulling a particularly pitiful moan from you. He laughed as he ticked the power up another notch, “Oui—juste comme ça, chérie.”

You could feel your orgasm coming at you hot and fast, mouth falling open as your hips dug into the soft material of the mattress.  A tear spilled from the corner of your eye at the sheer sting of need coming into full view, one of your hands planting hard into the bed beside you as your eyes rolled back in reflex.

“Charles, please, I-I-I—”

“C’est bon, minette,” he soothed, his own desire starting to rear its head, “Let go—let it all go for me, mm?” He set the devilish little toy onto full blast, and you didn’t wait for him to rethink his offer.

You babbled half-coherently as something melted in the pit of your belly, washing over your senses until your ears rang and your legs buzzed.  You could feel your sweat pooling in the small of your back as loose strands of hair stuck to your forehead and neck from the matching sheen that covered them, and your partner had turned the bullet to its lowest power setting to nurse you through the aftershocks that rocked your hips.  You were well and truly dripping at this point, a small wet spot forming under you on the white sheets. You really should have put down a towel before you got yourself into this mess.

But with no warning, as you basked in the afterglow of a much-needed orgasm, the toy went into full power once more.  Your eyes shot open and hips jolted away from the sensation as you looked to the screen after a moment of realization.  “Baby, no, I–t-too sensiti—,” you started to whimper to Charles as you heard the sounds of his own pleasure growing more prominent.

“Yes, mon ange,” he said firmly, hazel eyes dark with pleasure, “Just one more—I know you can.”  He watches as your brow furrows once more and your hand disappears between your legs once again.  Never did he ever think he could be so jealous of a fucking hand.

You mewled as you fought the stuttering of your hips each time you pressed the toy to your already-aching clit.  Still, in no time you were there once again, and Charles cursed and muttered under his breath as he watched the show you put on for him.

“Merde—”

“Such a good girl, yes—”

“Going to fuck you so good—”

“Fuck…fuck—”

He grunted your name once more and came with a growl, jaw slack as he spilled over the fist that held him so tightly. Meanwhile, you were coming down with glazed eyes and parted lips, breathing hard as you let out a quiet “fuck.”

“Oui,” Charles agreed teasingly as his head dropped back behind him lazily.

Toy discarded onto the bed next to you, you rolled onto your side to face him on the video call. “Why do you have to work so far away sometimes?,” you grumbled rhetorically, pouting as your body pooled in one of his old t-shirts and your breathing started to match something more normal.  Your body had lost the tension it had been carrying, those dual orgasms working to relieve the stress you’d felt when you’d started the call.  Still, a toy was a poor replacement for the man on the other side of the call, and you wanted him there with you more than you’d wanted that first orgasm.  You hated making him feel bad about being away, but damn did you need to be fucked within an inch of your life right about now.

He tsked softly, lifting his head once more to see your pout.  “I know, mon cœur,” he nodded, adjusting the lid of his laptop to angle more towards his face, “but if I didn’t come to Maranello, I wouldn’t get anything done. We’d be like bunny rabbits—like Corsica.”

Memories of that trip came back, causing your tummy to flip at thought.  You really had fucked like rabbits on that trip, and no surface was safe from the fury of your shared lust. Nothing was sacred and anywhere that had just enough privacy was good enough for one to start tormenting the other with their fingers…their lips…their—

“I don’t see why that’s a problem,” you teased back, smile finding your lips once more as you shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly.  One elbow helped prop your head up while the other hand rested between the soft skin of your thighs.

“My sunburn disagreed,” Charles chuckled as you found yourself laughing with him.  “I looked like a…a—what’s the word? Homard?”

“Lobster?,” you chimed in with a smirk as you remembered just how red he’d been. You swore you‘d slather a metric shit ton of aloe on him during that holiday. The way he’d keep you warm in the cold showers, though…

“Yes, a lobster,” he sighed, dropping his head into his hands at the thought.  “Chérie, it hurt so bad—and Carlos wouldn’t wouldn’t stop laughing at me in the paddock in Spa!”

“But you would taste wonderful dipped in butter!”

“You are an idiot, chérie.”

“And knowing that, you still wanted me to be your wife.  So who’s the bigger idiot in this equation, baby?”

[freak-accident419]

playing cards

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

(gif by @joshfutturman) Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | More parts coming soon

Summary: When his mother hosts a party and expects him to bring a proper date, Derek is obligated to comply. Not wanting to disappoint her any further (mainly driven by the rumor of her cutting him off), Derek recruits his best friend to pose as his fake partner. However, the two have to keep up this lie when a series of constant, luxurious events are held, causing several shenanigans to ensue.

Word Count: 3.7k

Content: gender-neutral reader, swearing, reader is his best friend, Derek’s mommy issues, fake dating

Ao3 Link

(A/n: this is my first miniseries!! I will also be posting this on Ao3, so please show your support there as well. Thank you to everybody who showed me love and support. Special thanks to Skye especially :) enjoy!!)

-

“Uh, yeah, I’ll have a flat white with oat milk. You know, the usual.”

For the most part, Derek would go about his usual schedule, which deprived of responsibility and stress. In fact, his recent routine invariably consisted of privileged luxuries, little to no work tasks, and drunken parties every night.

Phone in hand, Derek skated through the office on his skateboard as he waited for the drink that he ordered at the coffee bar. He checked for any texts until he swiped out of the Messages app to surf through his social media. And as he tapped through his friends’ stories on Instagram, video footage that caused Derek to reminisce the events of last night’s party took over his screen.

It was a typical night out for him, actually. He would invite his group of friends to clubs or venues and indulge in the colorful strobe lights, bass-boosted music, and alcoholic drinks. You had always tagged along with him, as you were his best friend, getting drunk and partying together. Every night, he would get abysmally wasted and driven home by his employees. Ultimately, “reckless” was nearly an understatement to describe Derek Danforth—alongside irresponsible and hedonistic.

He smirked at the Instagram stories that his friends had posted of him taking a body shot off of a skimpy stripper. Ultimately, you took the best video of the scene because unlike the other posted videos, the camera was much clearer and barely shaking. Chuckling to himself as he hears your voice chanting for him in the video, he tucked his phone back in his pocket and skated back to the counter to retrieve his coffee.

“Flat white with oa—”

“Beautiful, thank you,” he replies dismissively, grabbing the cup that the worker handed him and continued to skate along the hallway, past several other employees.

Expecting the next hour to be full of pampering and Tibetan singing bowls, a stern, yet familiarly lavish voice suddenly stops him in his tracks.

“Derek.” The young billionaire stiffens at the sound of his name being called. “May I have a word?”

An irritated sigh left Derek’s lips as he stood still on his skateboard, neglecting to turn his head around to face the older man. He then rolls his eyes and finally got off of his skateboard, kicking it up in his hand.

***

“You have to clean up your act, young man,” Westwyld states as Derek slouches pettishly in his chair.

Great. It was just another one of his needless lectures again. Why did he even bother? From the moment Derek walked into Westwyld’s dreadful office, he already sensed that he would be given another ‘serious talk’ from the man who tries to act like his father after having a romantic past with his mom.

In response to his useless demand, Derek scoffs with a smug curl on his lips, taking a short drag from his vape pen. It was almost amusing to him that Wallace believed his lectures would give him the slightest motivation to “do better.”

“Isn’t your job covering up my ‘fuckups’? Keeping me out of the tabloids and the headlines, keeping my reputation clean?” He sneered, impatient with the predictable redundancy that Westwyld brought onto him. “Isn’t that all you’re good for?”

Westwyld sighs, not very keen on having to explain himself for the thousandth time. “Derek, my job is to keep Danforth Enterprises safe, to keep your mother safe. Her reputation, her name. For thirty-five years, I worked as the director of the world’s intelligence agency, but I chose this job as a favor to your mother.”

Derek rolled his eyes carelessly. It was the same, bothersome routine when Wallace would scold him and then run his mouth about how he could have had any other job, but chose security for Danforth Enterprises for the sake of President Jessica Danforth.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you tell me this for, like, a billion fucking times,” Derek retorts with a harsh scoff, “You know what, I don’t have the fucking time for this.”

He stood up instantly, storming off until Wallace’s next words made him freeze, bringing a chill up his spine.

“Your mother’s thinking of cutting you off, you know that?”

Derek processed Westwyld’s words for a second, sensing the threat behind it. His own mother wouldn’t do that to him. She completely adores him. Right? It was just another empty threat—everything had always worked out for Derek in the long run. So he kept his cool as always, scoffing in disbelief with a breathy chuckle. “Um, no. No, she’s not. She wouldn’t.” He turned around to face Wallace, walking back up to him.

“Everybody’s talking about it, Derek. A rumor, you would call it, but she spoke to her advisers. Money may play a big role in the grand scheme of things, but public image as well. I cannot keep covering for you, Derek. The endless social media posts of your immature, juvenile actions, the soirées, the strippers, it’s getting out of control,” Wallace spat sourly, evidently sick of Derek’s shenanigans and recklessness. “Even the tiniest information can spill, and your reputation will grow rotten. And your reputation is your mother’s. I won’t let you take this risk, Derek, you need to clean up your act now.”

***

Derek left Westwyld’s office slightly pissed, sipping his coffee as he rode through the hallway once again in his skateboard. Suddenly he felt his phone buzzing, so he grabbed it out of his pocket to look who was calling him.

Well, shit. Speak of the fucking devil.

It was his mother.

Taking a deep breath, Derek stared at the contact name and gulped nervously before finally clicking ‘accept’.

“Hi, Mom… What’s, um… What’s up?”

For the first time ever in Derek’s life, one of Westwyld’s lectures actually intimidated him.

Jessica Danforth was an incredibly busy woman. Hell, she was the President of the United States for fuck’s sake, there was no way she would call up her son for something casual. It had to be for something urgent, which inevitably provoked fear in him—all he could think about was getting disinherited. “Hi, Derek,” she says into the phone, sort of in a disappointed sigh. “I was just checking in, making sure you are able to attend the party on Saturday evening. You are able to come, yes?”

Derek let out a soft, gratified breath, relieved that his mother wasn’t calling him to discuss his reputation and financial situation. But either way, it seemed that he was still in deep shit; Derek forgot all about that party.

His mother spoke about it several times in the past, inviting him almost an entire month ago. She made it very clear about how important it was to her, but Derek was completey oblivious to it. It was either some kind of gala or charity event, but he’d been too baked recently to even remember.

“O-oh, um, party, right, that party…” he replies dubiously, the information barely coming back to his mind. “Yeah, um, yeah, of course.” He blinks for a moment, trying to remember the information about the party. Right. It was some kind of charity auction. Raising money for a good cause. Extremely tasteful and elegant, the kind of boring parties that Derek was never a fan of.

“Alright. Good,” she says briefly. Jessica bit her bottom lip hesitantly. “Derek, there’s something I also need to mention.”

Oh shit, here it is. The slight panic returned to him once again. He wasn’t sure how he was going to take it.

“Oh, and, um, what’s—what’s that, Mom?” He asks, raising an eyebrow and trying to sound calm.

“Your… your public image has been in a very rough state lately, especially with all of the partying posts that your friends shared online. The hard drinking and the strippers, Derek, it’s just… It’s affecting how your investors and all these businessmen perceive you. They won’t take you seriously with all of your recklessness. Just… Settle down or something. Find a really nice girl, or boy, or whoever, and take them out to dinner,” she urges. “I want you to stop partying and… hooking up with strangers so much. Please be presentable at the party, Derek. I’d—I’d even be pleased if you were able to bring a date.”

Derek didn’t process the words the moment they left his mouth abruptly, blurting out a blatant lie. “Actually, that’s what I was going to bring up. I actually have a date to the party.” Shit. No. No, you don’t, you fucking idiot.

“What?” She asks curiously, completely taken aback. “Are you serious, Derek?”

“Yeah! And, um, we’ve been serious for a long time, but uh… yeah, they are helping me become a better, uh, man, and I will no longer be reckless. My reputation will be restored, so no drastic measures have to be done,” he says, digging himself in a deeper hole as he tries to indirectly convince his mother that she shouldn’t cut him off. If those rumors were to be true, at least.

“Well… Derek, if you’ve been seeing them for a long time already, then what was that scandalous video clip of you and that… that stripper, posted everywhere online?” She questions, thinking to herself about the logistics of Derek’s situation.

“Oh yeah, that was—see, that was an old video. People have just been reposting it recently, you know the algorithm. I—Actually, I, uh, I met my partner on the day after that video was taken, and they, uh, yeah, they convinced me to be a better man, donate to charity, all that… philanthropy shit—uh, stuff.” Derek had attempted to simultaneously make his mother believe he had a respectable date to the party, as well as being a much better person than he was before.

“Which was when?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Uh, like.. gotta be a few months ago, give or take,” he answers briefly.

“Alright, and who is this date of yours?” She finally asks.

“Oh, right, that would, um, that would be my partner,” he answers in a mumble, nodding to himself with clarity.

“Derek,” she sighs exasperatedly.

“Oh. Their name? Their name, you mean? Their name is, uhh, umm… Actually, I would love to surprise you, Mom!” He answers immediately.

“Seriously?” She scoffs with a disappointed sigh. Jessica knew her son like the back of her hand. Hell, she birthed the kid, having to push out his dumb, big head out of her snatch. The point was, she could always sense when he was lying, or at least when there was something fishy. Sadly, she frequently expected very less of him, unbeknownst to Derek.

“Yeah, Mom! Trust me, they’re really kind and they’re a good person, and I am—I am just thrilled to introduce the two of you,” he exaggerates pridefully, hoping to eventually sell it.

“I worry about you, Derek,” she sighs softly. “Fine… Fine, whatever, Derek, I’ll see them at the party. Please promise me that. Just… Just be good, okay?”

Derek smiled to himself. “I will. And I promise. I won’t disappoint you. I love you, Ma.”

“I love you too.”

***

“I am so royally fucked,” Derek states bluntly.

Later on in the evening, Derek was hanging out with you as always, at the club you two would habitually meet up at. You were his best friend for many years already and earned the position of being his right-hand man ever since you first met in college.

“Why? What did you do this time?” You reply lazily, sipping your drink. You always expected bullshit from Derek. He always got himself into trouble that he would make other people fix. It wasn’t very bothersome to you, personally. You enjoyed hanging out with him and his privilege was just a big bonus.

“Well… So, I was speaking with Wallace—”

“Ew—”

“Yeah, I know,” he scoffs. “As I was saying… The guy pulled me into his office and, get this? There’s a whole fuckin’ rumor that my mom is going to cut me off.”

“What?” You perked up, sitting up from your previous slouching position and looked at Derek seriously. “No way. That—No, that’s not true. You’re—You’re a full-time Mama’s Boy, the fucking suck-up of the century, there’s no way she would do that to you!”

Derek shrugged as he sipped his bourbon, the blue lights in the bar beginning to give him a headache. “Yeah, well… Remember that… that super dope video of me drinking a shot from that one stripper’s belly button? What was her name?”

You bit the inside of your cheek in deep thought. “Vixen?”

“No, she was last week’s. Was it Trixie?”

“No, that was way back during the New Year’s Eve party,” you recalled.

“Candy? No…”

Enthusiastically, you slapped the wooden surface of the counter with your palm. “Tiffany!”

“Yes, fuck, it was Tiffany!” Derek exclaimed. “Okay, well, you recall all those videos of her and me posted everywhere, right?”

“Hell, yeah! I had the best fucking recording, man,” you chuckle softly, thinking about the wild night before.

“Yeah, you did,” he slightly smiled, “but, uh… It’s getting viral and well… I don’t fuckin’ know why Wallace can’t do more cover-up shit for me, but because I’m ‘ruining my reputation’ with this, it’s gonna give my mom a bad reputation too? So, like… Wallace said there was talk about her… cutting me off the inheritance or whatever.”

“Shit…” you blew a low whistle, raising an eyebrow. “That’s… That’s really tough, man. Look, I’m sure that there’s a reason why it was solely a rumor and she’s not actually thinking of that. She loves you, you’re the last physical form of proof of your dad, and ultimately, you’re a manipulative suck-up. You’re not getting cut off anytime soon, dude.”

Derek scoffs, pinching his eyebrows together. “Well, its too late because I sorta fucked up a bit more.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? How?”

“My mom was so insistent about me getting a date to the party this weekend and I think she believes that me being in an exclusive, healthy relationship or whatever would improve my reputation,” he explains, humming a small mutter of gratitude as a bartender walked over to refill his drink. “So… I lied and told her that I had a date already. And that I’ve been dating them for a few months already and they’re helping me improve so that she would have no reason to cut me off.”

“But like… the video of you and Tiff—”

“I know the video of me and Tiff!” He exclaims in frustration. “I told her that video was filmed a long time ago and people are just reposting it, or something.”

“Okay, right,” you nod, trying to get a sense of his train of lies. “So, what, did she believe you?”

“I don’t… I don’t fuckin’ know,” he mumbles, “I can’t tell. But I told her I would bring them to the party as a surprise and I couldn’t even come up with a name or anything.”

You groan, putting your head in your hands before taking another sip of your alcohol. “Derek, you are a total idiot. What are… So—so, who are you gonna pull up to the party with? A fuckin’ cardboard cutout of fuckin’… Margot Robbie and call it a night?”

“No, I’m not a dumbass, Y/n. I’ll just tell her that they couldn’t make it because they were sick or something. Better yet—they were doing some kind of modeling job in Europe,” he replies, wanting to give the impression that if he would have a romantic partner, they would be incredibly successful and beautiful. He had a reputation to uphold, after all.

“That’s rich,” you scoff, wiping an eye with your finger. You were absolutely done with him. “You really think she’s going to believe that? Seriously? She’s your mom, Derek, I’m sure she can tell when you’re lying. And—and at one point, she’s going to ask for proof of photos and to actually meet them in person, and I’m sure that when she gets the news that you lied to her, she’d want to cut you off even more! Derek, you’re just digging yourself in an even deeper hole than before. You’re practically digging your own grave,” you argue.

“Fine, fine, then if she asks again, I’ll just say that they broke up with me,” he shrugged dismissively, leaning back and drinking from his glass.

“I thought the whole point was to improve your reputation, make you seem like a goddamn saint?” You retort, wiping your hand over your face in exhaustion.

He frowns. “Okay, you do have a point. Fuck. Then what do you suggest I do?”

“Why’re you asking me?” You whine with a frown.

“Because you keep correcting me on shit, clearly you must have better ideas than me,” he shrugs, looking at you expectantly.

“Well, I don’t. If I were you, I’d just cut your losses and accept that your fucking consequences have actions!” You reason fairly. “Might as well just get kicked out to the streets, having to con people for their money—oh wait, that’s exactly what you’ve been doing for the past few years! That’s all you do, man, I’m sorry, I can’t back you up! All you do is trick and deceive with all your lies, using people as pawns, it’s ridiculous!”

And after all that calling out, there was only one thing that the arrogant bastard got out from your outburst. His eyes lit up and you could tell that he had another stupid idea.

“Wait, Y/n, that’s it!” He exclaims brightly. “Using people!”

“Dude, I really fucking can’t with you—”

“I can get someone to pose as my fake partner for the night!” He grins.

“Yeah, I am really not liking the sound of this—”

“And get this,” he began eagerly. “You can do it.”

You feel your eyes widen as you hear Derek’s proposal. “Oh, no. No. Hell no. No, no, no, not in a million fucking years.”

“Y/n, come on,” he whines childishly. “It’ll only be for a day. You can pose as my partner at the party, impress my mom, deceive the press for a bit, and boom, I won’t even be considered getting cut off.”

You let out a prolonged groan, rolling your eyes and gulped much more of your drink than a regular sip. “Derek, she knows me. She knows I’m your best friend, she’s met me, there is no way—”

“That’s the point! I can pull some strings and shit, saying that we were friends until we, like, fell for each other or some other cheesy fuckass story. And if we want this entire charade to end after the party, a few days later I could just say that we broke up because we were more compatible as friends! No bitterness so that neither of us seem like the bad guy in the breakup. It’s the perfect fucking plan,” he explains, somehow more intricately than you would expect from him.

You pause, pondering deeply about his plan.

“Hell no.” You finally say, drinking more of your beer.

“Aw—come on, Y/n. Please. It’s only for a day. Look, my life is at fucking stake! I could lose all my fucking money, and—look—you won’t get to take advantage of my rich, privileged ass anymore. No more luxuries, no more rich parties. Come on, Y/n. Please.” His voice was pleading and you could tell he was heavily desperate. He wasn’t wrong. If the rumors were true and his mother was going to cut him off due to his recklessness and immaturity, he would lose so much money that you can’t leech off on. And of course you cared about him more than the money, he’s been your friend for years. But this whole thing seemed so complicated.

However, you were his right-hand man. His best friend since college. He relied on you. But hell, if you had to humiliate yourself for one night as Derek’s romantic partner, you should at least get something out of it.

“I wanna get paid,” you blurted.

He looked at you with an almost offended expression. “What?”

“Look, if I have to spend a night at a boring ass party, shaking the wrinkly, sweaty hands of old, ancient fucks, and having to pretend I’m your partner, I expect to be paid,” you reason, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re fuckin’ kidding,” he scoffs distastefully, rolling his eyes. God, you wanted to stab a fork in them.

“No! This whole plan is so complicated and I hate you for involving me in it!” You growl, pointing at him accusingly. “What am I getting out of this? Nothing! So you might as well just pay me to do this stupid acting job.”

“You’re—You’re not serious—” he glances at your obstinate expression. “You’re fucking serious. Well, okay! Fuck, fine. How much are we talking?”

“How long is the event?” You ask, grabbing your glass up to your lips to indulge in another sip.

“Probably a few hours, I don’t know, it’s a whole fancy live charity auction event,” he shrugs carelessly, grabbing his vape from his pocket and taking a quick drag.

“Okay, then. I won’t burden you too much. Two hundred dollars,” you answer confidently.

“That’s it? Oka—”

“However,” you began with a small smirk. “If we have to be all couple-y and gross and romantic with each other, I may consider raising the price. Like, if we have to hold hands or I have to look into your eyes for more than five seconds.”

“Fine, that seems fair,” he sighs softly. “Do we have a deal?” Derek, like he always would when he’d negotiate, took out his hand in front of you.

You grimaced at it. “I really don’t wanna shake to that,” you whine, groaning to yourself. “Just one night, right?”

“One night,” he confirms.

“Staging a break up right after?”

“Yup.”

“Little to no PDA?”

“Hopefully.”

“And you’re gonna pay me five hundred bucks?”

“Yes. Wait, wh—”

Before he could protest, you shook his hand immediately, completely sealing the deal.

Having to pretend to be Derek Danforth’s romantic partner for a whole night?

Yeah, there was no way in hell that this was going to end well.

[trickphotography2]

Wanna Dance with Somebody

When his girlfriend of three months ditches a night at the Hard Deck after a rough day, Bradley knows just what to do to cheer her up.

Word Count: 1.8K

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Off work yet?

Not yet. I have so much left to do in this last hour and a half.

Okay. Let me know when you’re on the way, and I’ll have your drink waiting.

Bradley glanced at his phone again to see if there was any update, only to see his last message left on read two hours later. Excusing himself from the pool table, he stepped out onto the patio of the Hard Deck. 

You answered on the third ring. “Hey,” you said, exhaustion coloring your voice. 

“Hey babe, just wanted to check where you were.” There was silence for a long moment before you sighed.

“Would…would you mind if I skipped out tonight? It’s been a shit day, and I’m exhausted.” 

“Yeah,” he frowned. “Everything okay?”

“Just a lot. I still have about an hour of work before I can log off for the night. And some of the shit is going to be Monday’s problem.” 

“Anything I can do?”

“No. As much as I appreciate it, no.” He could hear the smile in your tired voice. “Have a drink for me, tell everyone I said hi, and text me when you get home?” 

“Will do, babe. Lo…lock up, alright?”

“Always do,” you replied, confused by his strange request. “Night.”

“Night.” 

An hour and a half later, you shut down your computer and stowed it in your work bag, shoving that into the back of your closet. After changing into a pair of sweatpants and pulling on the wearable cat blanket that fell to your knees - Bradley had gotten it in a White Elephant Christmas exchange and shoved it into his closet, quickly giving it to you when you spied it the first time he made you dinner at his house and loved it - you shuffled toward the kitchen. Lunch had been a quick affair - a bag of chips and a mug of tea - since it had been a busy day. It was a busy week, to be honest. This time of year was always a shit show: people came out of the woodwork asking for help, projects that you pushed off were due, and new work started to pile up. It wasn’t until 3:00PM that you’d finished the stuff from yesterday and switched to today’s tasks. 

You zoned out while watching the microwave heat up leftover pizza from the weekend and contemplated stress crying in the shower. A quick, cathartic cry would be a good kick-off to the weekend, but that would also require the effort of actually getting into the shower. Eating seemed like a monumental task, so showering would be even worse. 

Beeping interrupted your musing, and you quickly silenced the microwave. The pizza was only lukewarm, but you ate it anyway. An open bottle of wine caught your eye when you refilled your water bottle, and you retrieved a wine glass from the cabinet. Thankfully, it was still carbonated after you’d shoved it onto the door shelf and jammed the stopper against the upper shelf. Pouring yourself a healthy measure, you retreated to the couch, tugging the blanket hood over your head. 

With the lights off, you grabbed your phone and mindlessly scrolled social media while lying on the couch. A few videos made you chuckle, and you sent them to your friends. The sun had long set, but you had no motivation to turn on any of the lights in your home. 

“Hey.”

“Fuck!” You shouted, jolting upright and sloshing the wine balanced beside you. The overhead living room light flicked on to reveal a smirking Bradley standing in the doorway. 

“You alright?” He asked, trying to school his expression as you wiped wine from your hoodie, blinking at the sudden brightness. 

“What are you doing here?” You demanded, glaring up at him. His mustache twitched as though he was trying not to grin - he had never seen you in “full gremlin mode,” as you called these nights, in the three months you’d been dating. 

“Just coming to check on you and bring you this,” Bradley said, holding up a bottle of your favorite wine. Your eyes darted between it and his face, feeling your anger fade. 

“Babe,” you groaned, setting your wine glass on the floor and pulling the hood down to cover your face as tears pricked your eyes. “You didn’t need to do that.” The carpet muffled his footsteps as he neared. Still, you heard the soft ‘thunk’ of the bottle and the metallic clanking of the spare key given to him to check your apartment when you went out of town for a conference hitting the coffee table before he gently pushed the fabric from your eyes. 

“Bad day or long one?”

“A bit of both,” you shrugged. “This week’s been…” He nodded, thinking about what you’d shared over the last few days. Glancing at your wine glass, he grabbed the bottle by the neck and removed the foil.

“Sounds like you need something to make you feel better, baby.”

“Sex?” Throwing his head back laughing, Bradley twisted the wire cage keeping the cork in place.

“We can get to that. I was thinking about something else, though.” A loud ‘pop’ sounded as he pulled the cork from the bottle, retrieved your glass from the floor, and filled it before handing it back to you. Once the bottle was back on the table, he pulled out his phone and connected it to your Bluetooth speakers. “Ready?”

“For what?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow.

The speaker started to play a familiar tune, followed by clapping. Bradley held out a hand to you, hips beginning to sway.  “Clock strikes upon the hour,” he crooned with Whitney Houston, “and the sun begins to fade.” 

Tossing your head back into the couch arm, you groaned as he sang along to I Wanna Dance with Somebody. When you didn’t take his hand, he playfully rolled his eyes, plucked his aviators from the pocket of his Hawaiian shirt, and put them to the tip of his nose. His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he attempted to moonwalk on the carpet, hands closing around the unbuttoned sides of his shirt. 

His hips swung, fingers snapping while he danced and spun across your living room, fist raised to sing into an invisible microphone. Biting your lip against laughing, you watched him shake his ass while sliding the shirt down his arms, glancing over his shoulder at you in a pantomime of strip tease. While Bradley wasn’t the best dancer, he was certainly enthusiastic. Once free from his shirt, he tossed it at you, moving around your living room and singing loudly. “Oh, I wanna dance with somebody. I wanna feel the heat with somebody!” He wiggled an eyebrow at you, which was what made you crack. 

Laughing, you reached behind your head to turn on the floor lamp before pushing to your feet and going to turn off the overhead light. In the dim lighting, you watched him hold out a hand for you. 

As soon as your finger slid over his, he tugged, lifting his arm to spin you under it and then back again. His hand on your waist was a gentle pressure, muffled by the thick fabric, and you couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of you as he held you tightly and shimmied, crouching and hiding his grimace when his knees popped. On his way back up, his belt buckle caught on the fabric of your hoodie, tugging it upward. 

Bradley towered over you, smiling as he serenaded and swayed in a rhythm too slow for the song. “I been in love and lost my senses, spinning through the town,” he crooned. You felt butterflies in your stomach at the sincerity shining in his eyes at those words. 

“Sooner or later, the fever ends, and I wind up feeling down,” you joined in. “I need a man who'll take the chance on a love that burns hot enough to last. So when the night falls, my lonely heart calls - ”

Grinning, Bradley twirled you, tugging so you fell into him when the chorus picked up. His lips grazed your forehead, mustache tickling your temple as he rasped, “Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody, with somebody who loves me.” 

Heart in your throat, you forced yourself to keep smiling as you danced. He was just singing the lyrics. Three months was too early to drop the ‘L’ word. When you pulled away, he caught your hands and spun you, crossing his arms over your front as your back pressed against his chest. His hold was a loose cage you had no desire to escape.

The song played as you swayed, head tipped back to rest on Bradley’s shoulder. The oversized hoodie, combined with the heat Bradley always threw, was getting to be overwhelming, but nothing could have made you move at that moment. 

His hand lifted to gently stroke your jaw, light pressure encouraging your chin up so he could kiss you. The song faded, but you barely paid attention as he licked into your mouth. Your hand lifted to trace the scars on his cheek before cupping around the back of his neck, fingers curling hair that was getting tiptoeing the edge of being out of regulation. 

There was a brief silence as the song ended before his playlist continued. “I need love, love, ooh, to ease my mind. And I need to find time, someone to call mine. My Mama said, ‘You can’t hurry love. No, you’ll just have to wait,” Phil Collins sang. Bradley chuckled against your lips. 

“What’s so funny, Lieutenant Bradshaw?” you asked, attempting to turn in his hold, but his tight grip stopped you. 

“Nothin’,” he replied, nipping your lower lip. “How’d you feel about grabbing your wine and hitting the shower, honey?” 

“I could go for shower wine.” 

The only crying you did in the shower was when Bradley went to his knees, your leg over his shoulder as he took you apart with his fingers and tongue. His eyes were soft as he washed your hair, taking the time to massage the tension from your neck and shoulders. His lips crashed into yours as you stroked his cock, feeling his hot spend against your stomach until he backed you under the shower spray to clean you off.

Later, he tucked you into bed and curled up behind you, drawing lazy circles on your stomach. The repetitive motion, coupled with his soft breathing, was lulling you into a trance. You hovered there, in that liminal space between awake and sleep. 

Bradley’s fingers paused, and he whispered your name. You felt the soft press of his lips against your shoulder, countering the gentle scratch of his mustache when you didn’t respond. “Love you, honey,” he whispered against your skin so softly you were sure you dreamt it.

“Love,” you mumbled, feeling Bradley’s arm tighten around you as you slipped over the edge into slumber.

Three months was too early to say you loved someone. 

But it wasn’t too early to dream it. 

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Author's Note: Started thinking about this fic after a rough day at work and then it got lost in my drafts folder. Needed a bit of a pick-me-up recently, so I revisited this fic. Thanks for reading!

If you would like to be added to my tag list, please fill out this form.

Taglist: @shanimallina87; @roosterforme

[bkgml]

phone calls with kats !!

you’re rudely awaken by your phone going off like it’s nobody’s business.

“ugh.. fuck off.” you groan, hand tapping at your nightstand in search of your phone.

once you finally grab hold of it your eyes scrunch up from the blinding light of the screen.

you whine lightly, eyes adjusting and clicking the green ‘answer call’ button.

“hello?” you croak out.

“…hey.” you hear from the other line.

you jolt up from bed.

“katsuki?! why are you calling? did something happen? are you okay?!” your mind races a mile a minute. he wouldn’t call you at this hour unless it was important.

“i’m fine, sweets. ‘m sorry for making you worry.” he says quietly.

you pause.

“why’re you calling me kats, did something happen?” you say, now calmed from your previous panic.

you hear a sigh from the other line. it sounds tense and tight in his throat, almost painful.

you let the words come to him, knowing forming words to match his emotions isn’t one of his strong suits, yet.

“just missing you.” he sighs again, to stop tears from forming in his eyes (but he won’t tell you that part).

“i miss you too, suki. you just gotta keep working, yeah? this missions important.” you soothe.

“uh huh.” he says, voice cracking ever so slightly.

“i love you. my big strong man protecting everyone. makes me wanna give you a big kiss as thank you when you come back to me.”

“yeah? you think i’m the strongest, huh? city would be nothin without your man, right?” you hear his grin through his response.

“oh the way to a man’s heart, his ego.” you laugh lightly.

he stays silent while listening to your laugh fizzle out.

stays silent while he listens to your breathing.

stays silent as he listens to you laying back down into the comfort of your bed.

“wish i was there with my sweet girl though.”

you smile lightly, trying to keep him motivated.

“i know, baby, but it’ll feel better after catching your bad guys, more rewarding.”

he goes quiet once more as he thinks.

“i guess you’re right.” he admits begrudgingly.

“i am.” you smile.

he hears you yawn.

“i shouldn’t have woke you.” he frowns.

“i have the day off tomorrow, and even if i didn’t i’d be happy you called, i’ve been missing you too.”

“yeah?” he replies, sounding more longful than he hoped.

“course, kats. love you more than anythin. i should let you sleep though.” you say.

“wait.” he says, urgently.

you do and he sighs.

“can you stay on the phone until i fall asleep?” he grumbles.

“uh huh!” you smile.

“do you wanna facetime so i can see that handsome face?”

he doesn’t reply but you get a request to switch the call to facetime pop up on your screen.

“hi, pretty boy.” you smile.

you watch his brows furrow slightly, faking disgust.

“don’t call me that shit.” he frowns.

“shh. you’re supposed to be going to sleep.”

his frown deepens and he sighs before closing his eyes.

“only a week more. you’re gonna spend your days kicking ass and taking names kats.” you smile as you ramble on quietly.

“my man is going to protect the whole country. all my friends at work are going to be soooo jealous.”

you see him smile slightly, keeping his eyes still closed.

“and then when you’re done doing the job you love you’re going to get on a plane and come see me and all your friends. i might give you a big welcome back party with your friends from high school and your parents.”

you see him frown lightly and you can tell he’s trying his best to listen to you but he’s drifting off so fast.

“but i don’t know, i might have to be selfish and keep you all to myself your first night back. maybe i’ll cook you a nice dinner, your favourite. i could make it extra spicy just for you. or we could order takeout and cuddle up close on the couch while we watch a movie you make fun of the whole time, even though i know you’re enjoying yourself.”

you see his consciousness fade away as you ramble on about all the things you’ll do together when he gets back.

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Banchan x F!Reader & Jisung x F!Reader TW : Bangchans : pregnancy ; morning sickness ; general angst ;. Jisungs : menstrual cycles ; really bad period cramps ; Han being an asshole ;. BOTH : FLUFF AT THE END I SWEAR!! Word Count : Bangchan (2.1k) Han (2.2k) TOTAL : 4.3k Request : This is so heavily requested!! I'm sorry for keeping everyone waiting!! Chan's specific theme was requested so I'm fulfilling that one right now with this! I will do the other members as well, I'll get to them, I promise!!

Bangchan

Nausea was usually something that you were able to overcome quite quickly, you’d just drink a little bit of water and lay down until the feeling subsided. It wasn’t something that would keep you from doing the chores that you promised Chan that you’d do, it definitely would never stop you from making sure dinner was ready for when he came back from the office. Chan worked hard, and although he always told you that you didn’t have to do all that you did while he was gone, you thought that it was the least you could do. 

Today in particular was by far the worst day, and your attempt at swallowing back the bile in your throat as you normally would when you’d start getting that queasy feeling in your stomach was proven pointless. It was a miracle that you were even able to make it to the bathroom in time to lean over the toilet, your throat burning from the acids that came up from your empty stomach as you heaved over the seat. 

Throwing up was awful, but throwing up literal bile was the worst. Your head was spinning and your stomach felt way too tight from the constant retching, the feeling almost making you throw up again. The taste in your mouth was just as bad, and you pushed yourself up off the floor to drink the water from the faucet out of the palm of your hands. Beads of sweat clung to your forehead and you felt absolutely exhausted just from the physical exertion it took to throw up. A quick nap wouldn’t be bad, you’d wake up before Chan got home and you’d have everything done by the time he got through the door. At least, that’s how you planned on things going this evening. 

Of course he didn’t expect everything to be done for him when he came home from work, he didn’t start dating you so that you could be a maid and a chef for him, he genuinely just loved being with you. That didn’t mean that he didn’t appreciate it though, and some nights he’d even look forward to it, especially on nights like tonight. The new song he was working on just didn’t seem to line up right, he couldn’t find any source of motivation, he had been at work for hours but he hadn’t gotten anything done. He was annoyed, he was upset with himself, he was hungry, and he was tired. 

“Babe, I’m home.” He called out, kicking his shoes off after walking through the front door, his eyes finally glancing up and looking around when he realized just how quiet it was. Not just that, but the smell of dinner wasn’t wafting through the house… There was no smell at all, which was strange. Your shoes were still in the doorway, perfectly straight right next to his. Maybe it’s just because he was running a little late and you didn’t want to make dinner too early… You must be in the bathroom or something. 

He continued in through the house, making his way to the bedroom and slowly opening it. Now, deep down he knew that he shouldn’t be mad, you were his girlfriend, not his servant, but something about the sight of you curled up underneath the blanket, surrounded by toppled over laundry piles… It was infuriating. You really just decided halfway through that you didn’t want to do it and you just… took a nap. 

“Must be nice…” He said, just loud enough to stir you from your sleep, your eyes slowly opening before repeatedly blinking to get the sleep out of them. “Look who finally woke up? Did you have a nice nap?” You quickly jolted up, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands before looking around, your mouth falling open into a small ‘o’ when you saw him standing there. “Was one basket of laundry too much for you? Huh?” 

You scanned over the piles of laundry, whispering out a curse before scooting across the bed towards them, trying to refold and situate them as quickly as possible. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t feeling well. My stomach’s been acting up lately… I don’t know what’s wrong.” You murmured, grabbing out balls of clothes that were still tangled up in the basket. “I’m thinking… Maybe-” 

“Maybe it’s because you’re lazy?” He cut you off, and your head whipped up fast to look at him wide eyed. “I mean, good god, who falls asleep while folding one basket of laundry?” His head shook as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know what, just go back to sleep. Clearly you can’t even do the simplest of things.” 

“N-No, it’s…” Tears were already stinging at your eyes as you rushed to fold the clothes in front of you. “I just don’t feel good… I don’t know what’s going on… I…” The heavy breathing was causing you to get nauseous again, the feeling of being attacked by him for something that both he and you didn’t even understand. He didn’t even know what was going on, he was never home, and now he was coming down on you. 

He yanked the shirt out of your hand, throwing it back into the basket before picking it up off the floor and carrying it to the door. “You think I don’t get sick? I still have to work. You’re just being ridiculous.” He mumbled, dropping the basket on the floor right outside the door. “It’s whatever though, just go do what you do best. I guess I’ll make dinner tonight after working all day too. Fucking fantastic.” He kicked the basket across the hallway before stepping out and slamming the door behind him. 

The sound of kitchen utensils being slammed against the counter and the fridge being opened and shut forcefully could be heard throughout the house, the constant loud noises causing you to jump, and you wouldn’t have been able to fall asleep even if you wanted to. You didn’t want to though, you wanted to talk to him because whatever was going on was starting to scare you. You had never been this sick for this long, and you didn’t have any other symptoms, it was just the random bouts of nausea. 

Suddenly the smell of ramen was filling the air, and you would usually love the smell of it, but right now it had your stomach turning as every single scent of the different spices filled your nose. “Chan…” You groaned, kicking the blankets off of yourself and heading out of the room. The smell hit you harder now and you covered your mouth and your nose, gagging silently as you moved into the kitchen and turned off the burner much to Chans surprise. 

“The hell are you doing?” He muttered, lightly swatting your hand away to turn it back on, and now just the sight of the red broth boiling in the pot had you retching. “What’s your problem?” He grumbled, moving you to the side as he stirred the contents in the pot, and you couldn’t hold it in anymore, leaning over the sink and throwing up, the force behind it sending the bile shooting out of your nose. “Hey! Hey what’s… hey!” He shouted, turning off the burner once more and standing behind you, holding your hair away from your face with one hand as he rubbed your back. 

“Fuck…” You sighed, turning on the spicket and washing out your mouth before grabbing a napkin to blow your nose. “I think I’m dying…” You whispered, a shudder running through you as you dropped down to the floor, leaning your forehead against the cold metal of the dishwasher. Your entire face was covered in sweat and you could barely catch your breath, that alone scaring you even more and causing you to breathe even heavier. 

“C-Calm down, it’s going to be okay.” Chan said, dropping to his knees in front of you, his hands firmly cupping your cheeks to look at you. “How long have you been sick like this?” He asked frantically, his thumb quickly wiping the tears from your cheeks. Your shoulders shrugged as you mumbled out a soft “a while” in response. “Jesus Christ… okay. We’re going to the hospital.” 

You laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, hating the fact that you were there but thankful for the lack of IVs. The doctor had taken a couple blood samples and those were the only needles that you had needed for the time being. Now you just wanted to relax, and as tired as you felt, the words that Chan had said earlier had you keeping your eyes open. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were feeling this way? Hmm? You told the doctor it’s been going on for a month and a half almost… How could you not tell me?” 

“You’re always at the office… you’re always working…” You muttered, balling up the blanket in your hands. “I don’t like bothering you while you’re working. You’ve got more important things to do than dealing with me.” You sniffled softly, quickly rolling over onto your side to face away from him, tears trickling down from the corner of your eyes. 

“What are you talking about? You’re extremely important to me, babe.” He cooed, not even bothering to try to roll you back over to face him, instead scooting the rolling chair around to the other side of the bed so he could see you. “All you have to do is call and I’ll come to you, I love you…” 

Your lips pulled together into a thin line as you looked past him. “I should have just laid in bed… went back to sleep and died. It’s what I do best…” He sighed heavily, knowing that those words were only in your head because of what hr had said earlier. He already felt awful about saying them, but now seeing you here like this, he felt even worse. 

“I don’t want you to do that… I want you to be here with me forever…” He whispered, reaching out to caress your cheek, his touch feather light against your clammy skin. “I’m sorry I spoke to you that way earlier… But once we find out what’s wrong and when you get better, I’ll make it up to you. Okay? I promise.” 

The knock at the door came and the doctor peaked in, a wide smile on her face as she waved to both you and Chan. It was a strange expression considering you literally thought you were on the brink of death, maybe she was just trying to lighten the mood before delivering the news. “So the results came back.” Chan nodded his head, his breaths becoming quicker as he waited for her to continue, clearly impatient. “Congratulations. You’re pregnant.” 

You blinked a few times, your mind struggling to process the information that was just given to you. Chan was also shocked into a state of silence as he stared at the doctor who was still smiling just as bright. “A baby… Is making her feel like this?” He questioned, and she simply nodded, walking closer to the bed and pulling a sheet of paper off the clipboard she was carrying, the words morning sickness printed in bold letters across the top and underneath a lengthy article about it. “Well… how… how far along is she? Why is she throwing up so much?” 

The doctor giggled lightly as she slipped the clipboard under her arm. “She’s about 4 months right now. Morning sickness can come at any time and it can be just nausea, or it can be actually getting ill. It depends on the person. I’d recommend setting up an appointment with your OBGYN as soon as possible though, just to get you in the system.” She nodded her head, backing up towards the door. “Congratulations again. Whenever you’re ready, you can head on out and sign the release forms at the front desk.” 

Once she was gone, Chan swiveled the chair back in your direction, still slack jawed at the unexpected diagnosis. “Well… You’re not dying, so that’s good…” He said softly, and then, as if the news had fully processed in his mind, his lips slowly pulled up at the corners, his hand holding onto yours as his thumb brushed along your knuckles. “I know this is unexpected… But I know we can do this… I love you, I know already that I want to have a family with you… and there’s nothing wrong with starting a little bit early…” He chuckled softly, standing up and helping you to your feet. “We’re going to be fine. Let’s get home and relax though, take a nap, I think you’ve earned one.”  going to be right here with you the whole time.”

Jisung

“Pookie butt!!” Jisung called from the living room while you were in the bathroom, waiting for you to come out before he continued. He was standing in the doorway, pulling on his shoes, waiting for you to come out to say goodbye to him. Once you emerged from the hallway and ran over to him, his arms were immediately around your hips, his face nuzzling into your neck. “I’m gonna be sleeping at the dorms tonight, I’ll be working late and I know you hate when I come in at weird hours, you get all panicky and scared.” 

“I do not!” You retorted, pushing back against his chest lightly as you looked up at him, but the smile he was wearing never failed to soften you up immediately. His laughter had you giggling along with him, burying your face in his chest as his hands lightly squeezed your sides. 

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t come at me swinging a baseball bat one night because I came in at 3 in the morning. You almost killed me, pookie poo.” He teased, and you couldn’t even deny it because it was the truth, and while you had apologized profusely for it for an entire month, now you were able to laugh about it with him. “You gonna be okay though? You gonna be able to sleep without the best boyfriend in the world laying beside you? Hmm? Can you do that? Do you need me to come home tonight?” 

“I think I’ll manage.” You said between little fits of laughter, grabbing his jacket from off the hook and handing it to him before pressing a quick kiss to his lips, the one thing that would certainly keep him from teasing you for at least the next 30 seconds. “What time do you think you’ll be back home though? I’m gonna run to the grocery store and get some of your favorite snacks, nothing but the best for my hard working man.” 

His cheeks flushed a light shade of pink at your words, and he quickly kissed you again to try to distract you from noticing it. “This is why you’re the best girlfriend, best pookie poo, my one and only schmookem boops.” He nuzzled his nose against yours, clearly procrastinating, he hated having to leave you, especially if it was over night. “I’ll try to be back by the evening. We can eat some ramen and watch movies, hmm?” You nodded your head in agreement as you opened the door for him, giving him one last kiss before saying goodbye. 

That night you had started your period, and you had fallen asleep with your fingers crossed that the cramps wouldn’t be as bad as they usually were when you woke up. Of course, you weren’t that lucky, and when you did wake up in the morning, it was like your cramps were your personal alarm clock. You could barely even roll over to get out of the bed, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to walk, let alone walk through the grocery store. 

You hated getting your period, it was a pain in the ass in every single way, shape, and form. It had completely slipped your mind that you were due for it, and you didn’t have any pain medication to even slightly reduce the pain from your cramps. You were practically bed ridden, curled up in the fetal position under the blankets, your breaths labored as you tried to get through each one that came so frequently that you weren’t even able to get a break. 

Just the simple task of getting up to get a drink of water left you doubled over in the middle of the kitchen, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to breathe your way through it just to get to the couch. Tears pricked your eyes as every minute your stomach would tighten up and your back would ache and you’d try your best to maneuver into a more comfortable position, but it seemed that there was no way that you could lay to rid yourself of the pain. 

You had tried to call Jisung, but his phone went to voicemail each time, clearly busy with work and you didn’t want to keep bothering him. You hoped that at some point he’d just call you back before he got home and you could tell him what was going on and ask him to bring you some ibuprofen. The only thing you could do at this point was try to sleep through the pain. 

When the door unlocked, you slowly opened your eyes, smiling up to Jisung as he walked through the front door, kicking off his shoes and going over to you. “Looks like you’re already ready for movie night. I’ll just get the snacks, you stay comfy.” He made little finger guns as he made his way to the kitchen, the sound of cabinets opening and closing as he searched, and if he had answered the phone he would know what was going on, but you didn’t expect him to be so upset about the lack of snacks either. “Where are they?” He called from the kitchen, and you slowly sat up on the couch, looking over the back of it to see him. 

“I didn’t get to go to the store today.” You said, the bright fluorescent bulbs that hung in the kitchen burning your eyes as they glowed behind him, so you quickly laid back down, keeping your eyes shut to try to fight off the headache that threatened to come. “I’m sorry… I just… I’ve been cramping and my head hurts so bad… I couldn’t make it to the store.” 

“Really?” He posed the question, and you thought that for a second he would show some sort of concern like he usually would, but instead he came back into the living room, standing over you as you laid curled up in the fetal position on the sofa. “You really didn’t go to the store because of a couple cramps? There’s girl idols that literally do entire dance routines when they have their periods and you couldn’t walk? Boohoo. Come on, get up. Let’s get the snacks.” 

He reached out to grab your hand, but you quickly pulled it away, your eyes opening just enough to glare at him. You weren’t used to him being so insensitive, and maybe he had a bad day at work, maybe he couldn’t sleep well last night, but whatever the reason, he had no right to practically insult you for not feeling well. “No. I’m in pain, and if you want to go get your fucking snacks so bad, then go get them… But you can go right back to the fucking dorms when you’re done shopping.” You snapped, pulling the blanket up around your face and closing your eyes. 

“Fine!” He retorted loudly, his hands flying up in the air with annoyance as he walked away from you. “But I’m getting really fucking tired of you using your period cramps as a reason to get out of doing literally anything. It isn’t even that bad.” It was like he was trying to piss you off, and it was working really well. He didn’t know shit about the way you were feeling, and for him to assume that you were acting just to get out of going grocery shopping was infuriating. 

“Would you just get the fuck out already?!” You shouted, only for your words to be followed by the door slamming shut, your headache only worsened by the sound of it. You hadn’t even gotten your medicine, and now you were alone once again, and the cramps were only getting worse, and now you were in pain and upset. 

“Weren’t you literally just back home?” Bangchan questioned when Jisung walked through the front door, and he could only assume that the oldest was talking about the fact that he hadn’t even been gone for more than an hour, and when he had left he had excitedly announced that he was having movie night with you. “Did you get Y/N the medicine she needed? She sounded really bad over the phone…” 

Jisung stopped in his tracks on his way to his own room, turning to look back at Chan. “What are you talking about? She called you?” He inquired, slowly walking over to the couch where Chan was sitting. “What did she say?” Obviously he was worried about you, and the only reason he didn’t run back into the house and apologize was because he was embarrassed. He felt like shit for going off on you, and he knew that you’d both need a bit to cool down. 

“She called Minho, asked him to bring her some Tylenol or something. She was crying… He felt really bad so he already left.” Chan explained, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Jisung. “What did you do?” He could read Hans face clearly, and while he wasn’t one to be nosy, he did want to make sure that nothing too serious had happened. You made Jisung happier than anyone else ever could, and he didn’t want that to be ruined for his friend over something small. 

“M-Minho?” Jisung stammered out the name, his hands running through his hair as he grew even more anxious. “Why would he go? That’s… That’s not his place… H-He can’t do that.” He was becoming frantic as his fingers continued to run across his scalp, becoming tangled in the strands that got knotted. “And she was crying?!” 

Bangchan nodded slowly, knowing that nothing he said or did would be able to calm him down now that Jisung was like this. He was practically spiraling and the only thing he could even attempt to do was tell him that it would be okay, although he was sure he wouldn’t believe him. “Look, if you’re so worried, then just go-“ But he didn’t even get the chance to finish the sentence before Jisung was rushing out the door, his shoes barely even on as he hopped on one foot down the hallway to get to the elevator. 

Although he knew that Minho meant well by going there to help you, it felt like he had crossed a line that no friend should ever cross. Going over to his house with his girlfriend when he wasn’t there. It was uncalled for, and even if you had called Minho to get you some medicine, Minho should have contacted him first. It shouldn’t matter that he walked out the door on bad terms, at the end of the day you were still his girlfriend. 

He rushed through the front door and he didn’t know how to feel, seeing Minho sitting on the couch with you had anger rushing through his veins, but it’s not like the two of you were cuddled up or anything, you were on completely opposite sides of the sofa. “Was waiting for you to come.” Minho teased, turning his head as far as he could to look at Jisung who stood like a statue in the doorway. 

He completely ignored the older member, moving to squat down in front of you, his hands grabbing yours tightly as he looked up at you with glassy eyes and dampened cheeks. “Why wouldn’t you call me? Why did you call him? Are you going to leave me? I’m so sorry, baby… I didn’t mean what I said… Don’t leave me…” 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him, lifting your intertwined hands to brush the tears from his cheeks. “You were mad… we were mad at each other when you walked out… I didn’t think you’d come rushing back to bring me the medicine. That’s why I called him…” You chewed on your bottom lip as you watched his eyes grow wider, almost like a puppy who was just told they were misbehaving. 

“I was a big dummy… I know how bad your cramps get, I was being an ass. I shouldn’t have compared you to anyone because you’re just… you’re amazing and beautiful and there’s no one else in the world like you.” He kissed along your knuckles before brushing his thumb against them, giving you a sad smile. “Will you ever forgive me pookie schmooks?” 

A sound of disgust came from Minho as he quickly got up from the couch, his face perfectly expressing how he felt. “You two are the cringiest people I’ve ever seen in my life and I’m leaving. Get well, Y/N. Goodbye weirdo.” He said to both you and Jisung, practically running to the door as if he couldn’t get out of there fast enough. His reaction was just the icebreaker the two of you needed to get over the awkwardness that was felt. 

“Did you… Get your snacks?” You asked nervously, keeping your eyes down, wondering if he’d act out again just from the snacks being brought up, but his head shook in response before it was laid against your lap. “Do you want me to go get them? I think the pill is starting to kick in…” 

“Mm… no.” He hummed, his smile growing wider as he looked up at you. “I just want to cuddle with you and make sure you feel good and stay feeling good.. We can order in tonight… I just want to stay with you.”