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nateezfics · 2 months

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MORNING HAZE

PAIRING — hongjoong x reader

GENRE — romance, smut, established relationship, boyfriend!hongjoong, soft dom!hongjoong, sub!reader, fem!reader

WARNINGS — smut, unprotected sex//creampie, morning sex, needy sex, dry humping, fingering, a dash of voice kink, dirty talk//sexual language,

WORD COUNT — 1.4k

SUMMARY — “good morning. good morning, love. did you sleep well?”

your brain was awake, but your body was slow to follow. you teetered between sleep and consciousness just as the morning sun began to break through your bedroom curtains. you enjoyed the comfort of your soft sheets and plush mattress, and you were content to remain just like this for as long as possible until you felt the press of something firm against your rear.

a warm hand slid over your body, calloused fingers sneaking their way underneath your t-shirt to graze against your skin. another press of something hard against you, and then again. in the sleepy morning haze your brain struggled to comprehend until you felt the fingers reach the underside of your breasts. you gasped in surprise, goosebumps erupting across your skin. there was a deep, raspy chuckle behind you, followed by a pair of lips against your ear.

“hongjoong…” his name fell from your lips in a sigh. your eyes remained closed as you reveled in his touch. your body awakened with each rut of his hips against you, and you became increasingly aware of his morning wood.

hongjoong kissed your ear. his fingers danced across your skin, brushing against your breasts teasingly. he’d found a rhythm now, hips grinding against your rear in search of friction. “good morning,” he whispered softly, hot breath fanning over your skin. “good morning, love. did you sleep well?”

the sound of his morning voice made your heart flutter. your pussy fluttered as well, and you quickly pressed your thighs together. his voice was low and raspy, soft and sweet yet thick with need. your body and mind were both awake by now, and as your sleepiness faded, need filled its place. you struggled to put words together in your mind for a moment before answering, “good morning, joongie. yeah, i slept okay.”

his hand cupped your breast and you mewled at the contact, back arching and ass pressing further into his erection. he groaned, and the sound of it had arousal gushing between your legs. you were growing needier by the second, pussy begging to be filled to the brim with him. it wasn’t a rare occurrence for the two of you to wake up like this, so full of need for one another the moment you gained a sliver of consciousness. “baby,” he urged, grip on your breast tightening. “i know it’s early, but fuck i need to be inside you.”

his lips traveled down your neck, making you melt even more in his hold. you swallowed. “i need that too, joongie.”

hongjoong released your breast to lower his hand down between your thighs. he cupped your panty covered sex, earning a shaky gasp from you. he groaned at the wetness he felt over the fabric. “you’re so wet for me already. god you’re perfect.”

you moaned as his fingers slipped through your panties to rub your clit. soft pants fell from your lips as he worked the pads of his fingers over you, his lips continuing their pursuit across the expanse of your neck. when he plunged two fingers in you, you cried out into your pillow. “fuck, joongie!”

“baby you’re so warm and wet. can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock.” his words affected you so much more with that sleepy rasp. he rutted into your ass just as his fingers curled inside you. he did that repeatedly until you found breathing to be an impossible task.

you were on the verge of falling apart. “gonna cum, gonna cum…” your warning of your impending orgasm resounded out of you like a broken record until your words caught in your throat as your high washed over you. you dissolved into pleasure while his fingers kept their pace inside you. you whimpered and whined and gripped the sheets, allowing your body to succumb fully to him.

hongjoong let you ride out the waves of your orgasm for a bit longer before removing his fingers from you. he hooked them on the band of your panties and pulled down. you lifted your hips to allow him to take them off fully. you were pushed onto your back a moment later, and for the first time that morning your eyes beheld the handsome face of your boyfriend. his hair was a mess and his face was puffy, but you swore you’d never seen a more beautiful man than him. you smiled just as you yanked him down for a kiss. he chuckled against your mouth.

“did that feel good, baby?” when you nodded, he chuckled again. he broke the kiss to brace himself above you, eyes gazing down at you fondly.

“i need you inside me, joongie,” you whimpered while pulling at his t-shirt. your legs were spread on either side of his hips.

“baby you have no idea how bad i need you right now.” hongjoong pulled his boxers down his thighs and kicked them off, not caring one bit where they landed. his cock, now free, rested between your thighs just near your sex. he didn’t waste any more time and pushed himself inside you.

you moaned loudly as he sank into you inch by inch. his forehead fell against yours when he bottomed out, eyes locked onto your own. you held his gaze as he began to move, but as his cock plunged in and out you, your eyes began to roll backwards.

“fuck, you’re so perfect. so good to me, taking my cock so well, baby.” hongjoong’s breathing was ragged as he pushed into you languidly. he was so overcome by the way you felt, and by the sight of you below him, he knew you were too.

you gripped his back, fisting the fabric of his t-shirt. you were desperate to feel his skin. “your shirt, joongie.”

hongjoong sat up, and while maintaining his rhythm, lifted the shirt up and over his head. he sent it flying somewhere over the bed, and it was quickly forgotten. your hands traveled all over his torso just your eyes spotted the no1likeme tattoo on the underside of his bicep. “better?”

you nodded. “yes.”

“now let’s take care of yours.” hongjoong pushed the fabric of your t-shirt up, exposing your breasts to his view. they bounced with every thrust of his hips, and he had to take a moment to appreciate the sight. the shirt was gone a second later and he busied his hands with gripping your breasts, kneading the soft flesh in his palms. “fuck, the things you do to me, baby.”

you gasped when he pinched your nipples between his fingers. his touch on you and his cock hitting your sweet spot were driving you mad, second orgasm of the morning approaching fast. “joongie…”

he leant forward, nose and lips grazing your cheek. “yes, baby?”

you sighed as his lips traveled down your jaw. one of your hands tangled in his hair while the other clawed at his back. “i’m,” you paused to moan when you felt teeth against your skin, “not gonna last much longer.”

“me neither,” he admitted with a groan. “i’m gonna make you cum with me. would you like that?” your nod was all the approval he needed to reach down and press his thumb into your clit. your reaction was immediate, a broken moan falling from your lips as your walls tightened around his girth.

his thumb moved in sync with his thrusts while his other hand remained full of your breast. you were quick to melt into a mumbling mess underneath him, words failing you as your mind grew hazy. “joongie, i —”

“come on, baby, come on,” he urged you. you both came with a rush just moments later, your cries of bliss mingling together like a harmony. the glow of the morning sun bathed you both in an orange hue as you came together. hongjoong’s body melted into yours as he rode out his own high, cock spurting white ropes of cum within you as you convulsed around him.

his lips attached to yours in a sloppy kiss as you both reveled in the afterglow. he had now stopped moving, body over yours like a heavy blanket. you enjoyed the warmth of his embrace, fingers running through his messy hair. neither of you were in a hurry to separate, both equally content to remain there as long as you wanted. “good morning, joongie.”

hongjoong laughed against your lips. “good morning, love.” you smiled at the familiar words from earlier.

“i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

AUTHOR’S NOTES — this will explain everything. yeah. just had to jot this little blurb down because i just couldn’t get this out of my head :’)

TAG LIST — @abiaswreck @jungkookieprincess @lilie-dctl @mjyungi @marievllr-abg @mylovelymito @nebulousbookshelf @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @staytinyinmybpack @thesafecafe (if you’d like to be on my tag list, find the tag list form link on the pinned post on my blog!)

NETWORKS — @kflixnet @wonderlandnet

ALL FICS ARE THE ORIGINAL IDEAS AND WRITTEN WORKS OF NATEEZFICS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. REPOSTING WITHOUT CONSENT FROM THE AUTHOR NATEEZFICS IS PROHIBITED!

#wonderlandnet #hongjoong smut #ateez smut #ateez smut drabbles #hongjoong smut drabbles #hongjoong x reader #ateez x reader #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong fanfiction #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios

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milky-aeons · 2 months

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'𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎 𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

ᯓ★ starring: dazai osamu, kunikida doppo, atsushi nakajima, chuuya nakahara and fyodor dostoevsky; what they would be like on their wedding day.

warnings: marriage, swearing, alcohol-intake, wife reader, w.c 3.5k

ᯓ★𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔

: ̗̀➛ Dazai, who never really acted like a conventional human being, also did not propose like one, either. After dating the enigmatic Armed Detective Agent for, by then, two years, you did not expect him to get down on one knee and produce a beautiful ring, like you had seen in the movies. But you also did not expect him to drop the question like it was a frivolous thing one random Tuesday evening while you both shared a drink at your favourite late-night bar.

Blinking, your glass frozen mid-way to your lips, you turned to him and said, "What did you... just say?" That mischievous smile you were so quick to fall for flashed across his face. "I said, why don't we get married, hmm~?"

: ̗̀➛ There was no other answer in your mind, your heart, than a resounding yes. For he was the thorn in your side as much as he was your other half. Through the whirlwind of months following, you found it hard to discern where one day ended and the next began. Time bled together until you didn't have nearly enough of it, and the day of the ceremony was here. It was a casual affair not bound too tightly by tradition. By the help of the agents, an old, abandoned manor sitting by the riverside had been fashioned into your very own cathedral.

: ̗̀➛ Yosano Akiko fussed over your dress, your hair, your makeup — to a point where you thought she was having way too much fun. And yet, she left no stones unturned, either. As you walked in through the building decorated with bouquets of flowers and rows upon rows of familiar faces, she hooked her arm into yours and walked by your side. Using Thou Shalt Not Die, the doctor instructed fluttering, iridescent butterflies to sit against your dress and your veil, the cornet of your hair, any place she could in order to make you glow.

: ̗̀➛ He stood to his towering height at the alter with his back turned to you in an immaculate suit of white. And when he spun to face you, you fell in love for a second time — with his brunet hair tucked behind his ear, the blue rose pinned to his suit lapel and his eyes; how they watched you. With a type of stunned disbelief that melted into adoration. When you came to stand by his side in front of the pastor, his hand reached down to twine with your fingers, and he whispered;

"You — are absolutely breath-taking."

: ̗̀➛ Kyouka Izumi played the role of ring-bearer, delivering a small white pillow with the two shining bands once it was time to say your vows. Dazai reached out tenderly, slowly, as if to preserve this moment for as long as he could, and lifted the veil from your face. His eyes shuttered. He reached for your hand and slid the smaller band onto your finger, his eyes downcast, his voice low and intimate.

"Through you I have found what it means to love, what it is to feel human, and while I am by your side — I endeavour to protect and earn that title. For as long as I shall live, I am yours. My soul, my name, they are all yours."

: ̗̀➛ As the ceremony reached its closure, when you had both been bound to each other in heart and in soul, Dazai could not wait another moment before he could reach for you. As soon as the words you may kiss the bride left the pastor's lips, Dazai had looped his arms around your waist and bent you back into a dramatic dip. Cheers and claps filled the riverside chapel, you smiled widely against his lips, expecting nothing less of him. Your soulmate. Your husband. Your Osamu, who's name you brandished as your own.

𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 . . .

"Kunikida-kun~!" Dazai's loud voice, a little accentuated with alcohol, swam over the crowd. "Play the thing we talked about!"

Curious, your head turned to the sounds of footsteps shuffling onto the dancefloor illuminated by pale spotlights. The afterparty was in full swing, you had been flanked by a group of well-wishing women when your husband's voice reached your ears. Each of you observed as Dazai, alongside Kunikida, Junichirou, Atsushi and little Kenji took centre stage. Excited murmurs fluttered through the throng.

"What on earth are they doing?" You wondered, and then the starting notes to All The Single Ladies began blaring from the party speakers. Your mouth dropped. Every single one of the Armed Detective Agents began to move in unison to the beat of the music.

And for the third time, you fell in love with him, again. Expecting that there would be many more to come.

ᯓ★𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎

: ̗̀➛ Kunikida Doppo, who, at first, had not planned to marry you. After all, you only met twenty out of his proposed fifty-eight requirements that made the perfect wife. That was the thing about your relationship, however — you had come into the agent's life unplanned, uninvited, and turned every one of his rigid ideals up on their heads.

: ̗̀➛ Yet it was only telling of the Idealist and his old habits, how Kunikida went about asking for your hand in marriage. It had been early on a weekday afternoon when he had called you into one of the private meeting rooms of the Agency's office. He'd pushed his glasses up the strong bridge of his nose and laid out his terms. He'd even written a business contract for you to sign. The page had gone flying in the air when you had tackled him from across the table. Smattering a thousand kisses against his blushing, flustered face and breathing the words yes, yes, you silly man, yes!

: ̗̀➛ To concur with both your family's wishes and his own, a traditional wedding was set in motion. Kunikida Doppo was always a man to abide by rules and regulations, but it had occurred to you that perhaps he was taking this affair a little too seriously. For your parents, he gifted them the very traditional shiraga thread. During the sake ceremony, the blond sat ramrod straight, moving mechanically to take sips from the three cups. One for past, one for present, and one for your future. Together.

: ̗̀➛ He was so serious, in fact, that you had become nervous on the morning of your wedding — your most beloved of friends helping you into your garments, trying to soothe your thoughts. What if he doesn't want to marry me? You would whisper as they fashioned your hair up. What if I've forced him into this, what if he's unhappy? To one of your many anxieties, your friend had met your eyes in the mirror, and smiled.

"Oh, honey," She chuckled, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. "You should see the way that man looks at you."

: ̗̀➛ Her words played in your mind as the traditional music was strung during your procession to meet him. The black colours he donned made his long ponytail appear golden, his body strong, his face even more handsome. As he watched you come down the shrine walkway to be by his side, the blond reached up with one hand to push his glasses away and covered his eyes. It had taken you a few months after to realise that in that moment, Kunikida Doppo had shed a tear.

: ̗̀➛ It was not tradition for vows to be spoken, and yet Kunikida asked to say a few words as the ceremony drew to a close. You watched him carefully as he picked up the microphone, curious at the intentions he had. It was in that moment that your newly wed husband faced the crowd and brought the mic to his lips.

"First, I would like to thank you all for gracing our marriage with both your presence and your blessings. It is something we will see not to squander." "Second, I would like to say some thoughts of mine, if you would all be so inclined. Marriage, to me, was initially an agreement of convenience. I had the perfect woman laid out seamlessly. And in my wife that stands with me today, I say that she is not that perfect woman I so wished to find. But she is everything more. She is my best friend, she is my support, she is the person I go to sleep thinking of and wake up searching for. To me, she is my home, and I will take care of her fiercely."

: ̗̀➛ At your small reception, Kunikida was stolen away from you by some affiliates of the Armed Detective Agency and had his sake cup topped up one too many times. He found you afterwards, and proclaimed both his love and adoration for his newly-betrothed to everyone and anyone that was within a five mile radius.

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 . . .

"Come here," You whispered to him, now in the comfort of your own apartment walls. A considerably uncoordinated Kunikida was struggling out of his Haorihimo, cursing in drunken slurs and promises of retribution to the small sliver of fabric.

Your fingers eased the cloth out from underneath his arms and you began to loosen the knot. Your husband was staring up at you from behind his crooked glasses. He swayed a little, and you stood in front of him, ready to support him if he went toppling forward off the bed.

But then, two strong, solid arms came up to the small of your back and he crushed you against him. Burying his head into your chest, he murmured;

"From the very first day I met you... I loved you. D'ya know that?"

Your heart grew tiny wings in your chest and began to sore. Smiling, you reached up, carding your fingers through his blond locks and undoing the tight ponytail.

"The first day you met me, you told me I was inefficient and lazy, my dear husband." You mused.

He grunted. "Same... thing."

ᯓ★𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀

: ̗̀➛ Your relationship with Atsushi was one that blossomed slow and tenderly. It was a natural progression, after three years of happy dating, for the agent to ask you to marry him. Everything Atsushi Nakajima did in regards to showing his affection for you was always timid and reserved — you never expected it; the elaborate surprise he had waiting in store for you that morning you came into the Agency's offices just like you always did.

: ̗̀➛ Well, perhaps he had a little help from the other agents, for the office was barren when you entered. Your eyebrows had creased at the very uncharacteristic quiet of the usually chaotic area you worked in. You had checked the time, wondering if you had showed up a little too early on accident. But then, there was a voice — the voice of agent Dazai Osamu, shouting at you to come to the nearest window and to do so urgently—!

Each of the agents stood at the sidewalk, all holding up a sign with different characters that made up a whole sentence. A question. And Atsushi — your sweet, kind, caring Atsushi, was perched in the middle, the biggest bouquet of roses in his sheepish hands. Will you marry me?

: ̗̀➛ Both you and Atsushi decide to get married somewhere far removed from the city skyline of Yokohama. You wanted somewhere special to remember this day, and perhaps, the great outdoors and stretching greens spoke to Atsushi's beastly side a little more, too. So you chose the heart of a nearby woodland where a great, ancient willow tree served as your alter.

: ̗̀➛ Atsushi wore a suit of sky-blue. You wore a simple slip dress decorated with accents of lace and flowers, Kenji had twined some wildflowers into your hair. The fauna of the forest acted as your choir when you walked down the small trail of brambles to your soon-to-be husband who waited at the base of the winding trunk.

: ̗̀➛ The reception was held in a greenhouse funded by the Agency's private books — you and Atsushi were members, after all, so Kunikida took a little less persuading than usual to move his ledgers around. For lunch, you served chazuke, and when you took the first dance, Atsushi's eyes appeared more gold than they were violet as they looked at you so lovingly the whole time.

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 . . .

"Atsushi, they'll notice that we're gone." You giggled, bunching your dress up so you could step over the little bush of thickets. When you both reached the winding roots of the willow tree you promised yourselves to each other underneath, Atsushi transformed his arms and legs into their tiger equivalents.

"Dazai-san said he'd keep everyone entertained." He whispered, and then stepped forward to wrap his soft arms around you. "Are you ready?"

"It may be a little late for second thoughts." You teased, but looped your arms around his slender neck and relaxed into his hold. The new golden band on your finger glinted in the moonlight.

And using that tiger-strength, Atsushi dug his claws into the ancient tree bark and began to climb. Higher and higher until you both broke through the canopy cover and could look to the millions of stars winking at you overhead.

"Oh, Atsushi." You breathed in awe, taking in the wonders above. "Oh, it's beautiful."

Your husband nuzzled into your hair and whispered, "Each one represents all the lifetimes I'd still find and fall in love with you in."

ᯓ★𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

: ̗̀➛ It had initially been you and your General lover's plan to keep your engagement quiet and have a small affair away from town. Just the two of you, because Chuuya thought some of his colleagues were insufferable pains in his ass, and all hell would break loose if they were to figure out they had a wedding plan on their hands. It was, however, unfortunate, that you two had been discussing what type of ceremony you'd like to have when Hirotsu was just about to turn one of the corners. It took exactly one hour for the entire Port Mafia to know. Two for it to reach the Armed Detective Agency.

: ̗̀➛ It was no longer a personal affair. This wedding became a spectacle within the Mafia's ranks. From the lowest levels all the way to the boss himself, everyone was abuzz with ideas and anticipation, excited that one of their top brass was getting married and they could all take advantage of the time off to have a grand party. Chuuya threatened to resign several times, you always laughed at how excited the entire criminal organisation became at the prospect of celebration.

: ̗̀➛ True to the boss' word, you and Chuuya's wedding was held in one of the grandest churches Yokohama had to offer — having mysteriously skipped the two year waiting list. The building was laved in gold and stain glass windows. Chuuya wore a fine suit of blood-red and a black tie that contrasted with his wild curls, his hard blue eyes. But when they saw you come down the aisle, they softened, and when he said his vows to you, you never thought anyone would look at you with such adoration ever again.

: ̗̀➛ The main event was held in the bowels of the Port Mafia — one of the largest show-rooms this organisation had to offer, with chandeliers hanging from the ceilings and a private band playing any songs they were requested. Chuuya, for the majority of your reception, could not seem to keep his hands off of you. If you were not by his hip, his eyes would instantly go searching for you within the throng of party-goers. When he did find you, he would place a hand to the small of your back, he'd lean in to kiss you and say;

"There you are, my wife."

: ̗̀➛ There was another reason as to why Chuuya Nakahara was originally so hellbent on taking your wedding somewhere more quiet and peaceful. And it came in the form of a brunet ex-partner waltzing into the organisation's party, a broad simper on his infuriating face. Dazai Osamu took your hand and kissed the back of it, extending his deepest sympathies and that if you ever needed to blow off steam, he could give you his number.

: ̗̀➛ The Port Mafia ballroom had originally started off with three grand chandeliers. After Dazai had purred those taunting words, there was then, only two.

: ̗̀➛ After the many shards had been swept from the floor by a cleaning crew, the private band struck an up-beat quartet. Both you and your newly-wed husband took to the floor for the first dance. Chuuya's hand splayed protectively against your back, his other gloved palm slotting into yours and guiding you to twirl, skip, spin.

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 . . .

"Shit, sorry." He grumbled when your foreheads were touching, the proximity sending his breath fanning across your cheeks. His pointy canines were jutting against his bottom lip. "That motherfucker — he just makes me see red."

"Hey, it's okay." You said, catching his eyes. "Because I love you. You, Nakahara. I am all yours and no one else's."

Those words touched something deep within this man's chest. Of course, the proof that you were his sat in the form of two stacked rings on your left hand, but to hear it. To look into your beautiful eyes and see the amount of love there.

He surprised you by reaching down to your hips and lifting you up, twirling you around, around, around.

"And I'm forever yours, babydoll."

ᯓ★𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐄𝐕𝐒𝐊𝐘

: ̗̀➛ The initial letter you received from Fyodor asking for your hand in marriage — originally, you believed it to be fake. A shallow joke from someone who knew of you and the mastermind's occasional on-and-off relationship whenever he returned to your homeland. But as you traced the delicate loops of the handwriting that looked so much like his own, in the intimate moonlight beams of late night — you'd let yourself imagine. Hope. Only for it to swell and dwindle like ashes of a flame. Because there was just no way he would ask to marry you. That he would marry, at all.

: ̗̀➛ It was fitting then; how palpable your shock was when the slender, pale man you had accidentally fallen in love with — like a fool — was standing on the other side of your door that early morning. You had blinked hard, rubbed your eyes, wondered if you were weary from too many sleepless nights. When the stars had cleared from your vision, he was still there. An amused little smile stretched against his lips.

"So? Are you ready to get married?" You stared at him. And stared. And then dropped your morning cup of coffee onto the tiles of your hallway.

: ̗̀➛ At the news of your sudden betrothal, your family were both elated with a healthy dose of scepticism. Who is this man you are intending to marry, they fluttered around you with questions when you broke the news. Fyodor? I've never heard you speak of him, why do you intend to marry this man, girl? At that, you had smiled, not bothering to hide the small heat of blush on your ears, and murmured;

"Because he's a thief, and he stole my heart a very long time ago."

: ̗̀➛ The wedding was held in an old cathedral of gothic architecture. You don't think you've ever seen Fyodor look so refined; standing there in his simple suit of stone-grey with a black shirt. He had his hair tucked behind his ears, his eyebags were a little less pronounced, his skin brighter — but perhaps that was just the early-morning light. When you stood before your husband to-be and handed your heart over to him, for him, there was a shift in his eyes. You could not explain it, but you knew it ran deep. You knew that in his own way, he was also handing himself over to you. And you would accept all of him, just like you accepted his name.

: ̗̀➛ Much to the dismay of your family, you did not hold a wedding reception after the ceremony, but that was only because Fyodor decided to walk with you through the freezing streets of Moscow. He held your hand, and even though on many nights where you lay together he was stone-cold, today, he felt warm.

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 . . .

"Fyodor?"

"Hmm?" He answered, noticing the sheepish tone in your voice. You looked up at him with those big doe eyes.

"Why did you ask to marry me?"

Fyodor held your gaze for a long, pregnant second. It was at that moment that a single flake of snow fluttered down from the grey sky and landed on his immaculate suit. Then another. Each one the same colour as your dress, each one different to the rest.

Fyodor held out his hand to catch them. "Why does the snow fall? Because it is natural. It is meant to be. I married you because it is the way I wish to fall. With you, by my side."

✎ . . . requested by the lovely @cocodrilofeliz!

WRITING REQUESTS

1K notes · View notes

pastelhooman · 11 months

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[WVW Exchange Event 2023!]

"The kisses on your lash, your ears, on the nose that keeps scrunching. The kisses on your hand, on your cheeks, and the exchanging soft words waiting for the break of day."

----- ID under break -----

A total of 6 pages of comics, starting with a close up shots of vash kissing sleeping wolfwood's nose, eyes, lashes, and he furrows them a bit. an overhead shot of the two of them in a motel room, on the bed with vash leaning over wolfwood from the left, laying soft kisses on him. their legs tangled. their normal outfits are thrown haphazardly on the floor, instead donning comfortable clothes. on the outside, the very first ray of lights are yet to shine.

"what a face you're making pfft" - vash says as he grabs both of wolfwood's cheeks, squeezing them a bit. wolfwood mumbles, "There's something that keeps landing on my face, it tickles." he grabs the hand that is on his right cheek. "Well you're letting it happens anyways right?" Vash muses, bringing the hand up to kiss on its knuckles. "Good morning Wolfwood. It's almost dawn"

"… Isn't it way too soon?" - wolfwood asks, but keeps to himself the prayers he's sending to god because the the boy on top of him was such a sight to behold. Vash flops down onto him, leaving the hand hanging and lace his own hand into Wolfwood's hair, peppering kisses to the side of his face. "Yep" - he answers - "But you woke up on your own tho" - facetiously. He giggles, saying that it was a joke after a beat of silence. A sigh, "don't make me upside you first thing in the morning." Wolfwood closes his eyes, hand combing through golden strands. "Heh, how merciful~" "We have a meet up with Milly and Meryl today, remember?" Vash reminds him, which does raise some vague memory. wolfwood hums, the other hand reaching around vash's torso, hugging him. " So, the sooner we arrive, the less likely she'll chew through my head." - Vash adds. "riiiight. And you were SO urgent in waking me up." in wolfwood's hold, both of them slowly turn to the right, towards the edge of the bed.

Well, you were just soooo cute, I couldn't help it! didn't thinkk you'll actually wakE UAA-!"

the bed creaks under the sudden shift in weight as wolfwood tosses vash over and under him, arms firmly hugging him, one at his back and one at his head, hungrily dives down to kiss. "!! Wolf-! Wait-!" Vash yelps, leg instinctively curls around the other's man hip to hang on, trying his damnest to grip on his shirt as HE is now half airborne, barely has any contact with the bed on his upper body. However, wolfwood seems to have another idea as he keeps deepening the kiss, pointedly holding Vash close, hands spread guarding the back of his head as both of them are sliding off the soft fabric.

"THUD!" a resounding fall, possibly enough to wake the room downstairs, followed shortly by laboured breaths amist wet smacks of lips. Heaves and huffs of air exchanging between the two bodies when the need to breath made itself necessary. They press close, cradling each other, and are lost to their own world. After a while they had to part. Metal arm shifts through black locks, caressing down to his nape and they hold eye contacts there, with lidded eyes, strands of saliva thins then breaks.

Wolfwood pushes up on his arms, looking smugly down at his now disheveled partner: "Now this is how it's done, Needlenoggin." he remarks. Vash tries to wrangle his thoughts back in order, but strings of Wolfwood's name and a wonderous question keeps filling his mind, of whether he should risk it all and have fun for a bit more. Regardless, snapping out of his trance, Vash sourly asks, with a wry smile and an aching head: "But did you really need to roll off the bed?" "Wrong side, whoops" - Wolfwood anwers unseriously, laughing as he finds the situation quite amusing.

----- End of ID -----

#sorry if the ID is weird it happens everytime i tried to ID my comics it turned into psuedo-fics-#the cap is the prompt btw #the exchange is basically secret santa except it was in may lol #it was incredibly fun to work on this!!#and originally i drafted this to be like 4 pages and it got longer and l o n g e r and i was like oh no #all is good i made the deadline dont worry #yeah only some ten minutes left before it was overdue lol #oh and the event was last month i just procrastinated and didnt post it on anywhere except fb mb #half the reason was because i do NOT know how to ID and half way through it was feeling like writing a fic and that took. time #didn't help that i started writing when i was very sleepy and basically forgot about it for weeks #wElL aNyWAys #hope you enjoy this <3 #i really really love the prompts that i was given there were 3 in total but i only did one #they were all superb #vashwood #woodvash #wvw #vwv #wv #vw #trimax #trigun #trigun maximum #trigun manga #vash the stampede #vash trimax #wolfwood #nicholas d wolfwood #wolfwood trimax #wvw exchange event 2023

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undiscovered-horizon · 5 months

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(tw for self-harm -> literally hitting a tree with a bare fist)

[Tav has to carry the world on their shoulders. But when they begin to question this responsibility and the unfairness of it, they need someone to make sure their grief doesn't destroy them.]

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

Astarion knows that something is very off when you drop your bag and disappear behind the tree line, never even acknowledging his existence. The certain skip in your step, a bravado of "There's no mountain I can't move" is completely gone, nowhere to be seen. Now, something more sinister has taken its place - a darkness looming over your shoulder that makes even him shudder. Like you've switched places with another creature.

He notices Shadowheart and Gale watching your departure, both of them fidgeting in their stillness. Their hesitancy is all too obvious. Then, they exchange a look of both concern and inquiry. In awkward silence, Gale and Shadowheart part ways, simultaneously deciding to let you have your space.

Be it his curiosity or worry for you that he so vehemently denies, Astarion marches off in the direction he has seen you go, only to disappear behind the trees. He passes by Gale, who grabs Astarion's arm. The bruises on the wizard's face look almost black in the twilight of the campsite.

"I wouldn't do that, Tav is a little..." he hangs his voice as his eyes glance towards the dense forest, "beside themself."

The vampire wears his scowl like a crown. He yanks his arm from Gale's grasp and makes a show of straightening the fabric of his decorative shirt. "Wonderful advice. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to happily ignore it."

Without awaiting a rebuttal, Astarion continues his march towards the dense, dark forest where he hopes to find you.

The warm, yellow hue of the campfire quickly disappears as the man ventures into the woods. Low shrubbery keeps nipping at his clothes, almost making him more worried about the state of his pants than your well-being. He is about to call out your name when he hears a loud, muffled thud.

What in Hells is that?

Following the sound, Astarion finally finds you - beaten, bruised. Your clothes look like you haven't washed them since crawling out of the Nautiloid. The blood covering your knuckles glistens in the moonlight as you take another swing at the tree trunk. Another thud resounds in the empty forest. A dent behind to show in the wood where the bark has already been broken off. Just how long have been doing this? More importantly: why are you doing this to yourself?

No matter his confusion and burning worry, Astarion manages to pull himself together. He knows that the last thing you need right now is him blowing up at you, masking his fear for your state of mind with irritation.

"And what did this poor tree ever do to you, darling?" he finally calls out in a light-hearted tone. Truthfully, he couldn't be farther from playful jokes and jabs.

"Just leave me alone," you answer in a harsh tone as you punch the tree trunk once more. A whine escapes your lips as your tender, wounded hand meets the hard wood again.

He's taken aback - you don't normally talk this way. This unforeseen and much unwelcome, sudden change makes him all the more concerned.

Astarion stops close behind you, his arms crossed across his chest. He's unsure what to do. "Not until you tell me what's gotten into you," he states in a firm tone.

You growl in response. "It's so," you hang your voice to hit the tree, "fucking" you punch the trunk again, "unfair!" you scream out.

Your bloodied, trembling hand is about to land another punch but something, someone, stops you. Astarion lunges forward, pressing his chest against your back and grabbing your arms. His firm grasp forces you to keep your hands close to your body.

"Why do I have to decide who lives or dies?!" you continue yelling as you try to ineffectively wiggle out of the man's iron grasp. "I never wanted to be the hero who saves the world! I never asked for any of this!" Suddenly, your defiance disappears. Tired, hopeless and sore, you let yourself lean against his chest. "So why does it have to be me?" you whisper in a weak voice. Then you shudder as tears begin flowing down your cheeks.

The great hero falls and it is only natural that their fall must be of equal grandeur.

Astarion feels your hands shake but he's not sure whether it's because you've scraped their skin down to raw muscle or because you're crying out all the pent-up anger, grief and anxiety. No matter what's the truth, his undead heart breaks all the same.

"My sweet, sweet love," he whispers into your ear. His cold lips brush against the conch before he softly pecks your neck. "Anyone else would do it wrong."

Part of him wants to add 'except for me, of course' but he knows, deep down in his viscera, that even he would falter. So he remains quiet until your sobbing silences and your trembling comes to a stop. Astarion's grip never eases down until you've collected yourself, holding you tight against him as though you're fine porcelain that even a mere gust of wind could shatter into pieces.

__ Guys when I tell you I almost tripped running to my laptop to write this

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion bg3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 x reader

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planetsano · 3 months

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☆ 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 : you don’t want god to be the man in your life.

☆ 𝗯𝗲𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲 : heavy sacrilegious themes, feelings of resentment towards religion, reader is a nun, hiormi is a high preist, vaginal sex but in second person, blood mention, rosary, crosses, prayer, power imbalance dynamics, cream pie, addiction mentioned.

☆ 𝗮𝗿𝘁 : fckmanji on x.

The rosary clenched around your clammy, little dainty hand was with such intensity that it dug into the skin almost drawing blood. The beads press into your flesh, leaving indentations as if the act of prayer itself is etched into the very fibers of the hand. With every subtle twist and turn, the your veil gradually begins to slide off your head exposing a glimpse of your tresses.

He hopes you know— he hopes you know that your breathless, almost incoherent prayers aren’t getting you any closer to the God you believe you’re praying to. Your efforts only serve to further the intensity that Higuruma’s cock rams into you. The sounds to him are profound; squelching and wet skin paired with almost muted clap of the impact every time his hips snap into you.

As far as Hiromi is concerned, the only God that you need is him and you’ll worship him for the rest of your life— he knows it because he’s the center of your world. He’s all you know. So when you lay beneath him praying to a “god” he’s long since stopped believing in, Higuruma knows that in your heart, you’re praying to him. For him to stay with you— to breathe life into you and the experience thrill of participating in something so sinful, degenerate and taboo.

You weren’t alive before him and you’re well aware of that. You devoted your entire existence to God when you gave him your vows— its what you learned growing up from family. They told you that it was the right path; that this would fulfill you and be your purpose in life, you’ll be happy and complete, but you’ve never been more.. miserable in your life. A symbolized devotion now felt like a suffocating shroud that consumed you. Each day became a struggle with the weight of a duty that contrasted sharply against the desire for a different life.

Resentment brewed within you, a gradual emotional upheaval fueled by the clash between your own desires and the demands of the Church. Each prayer became a reminder of your sacrifice, and every obedient act to please your sisters deepened the bitterness. The once accepted vows you were so set on making now provoked a simmering anger— rage. A resentment that festers beneath the surface like an evil, fueled by an unfulfilled longing for a life untethered from the confines of the convent.

Still, you were ashamed. You cloaked yourself in a facade of happiness, concealing the shame and guilt that lived within you. You feared judgment from both your fellow sisters, the Church and the divine, wearing a mask of contentment and suppressing your true emotions.

But Hiromi never made you feel that way. He made you feel good, seen, heard. He made you feel warmth and light in a dark pit of despair.

You often asked yourself if this is what love was or at the very least what it felt like. You asked Hiromi one day and his answer didn’t help much— “…Who’s to say what love feels like? It’s different for everyone.. It’s like an addiction, maybe— a craving that consumes us in ways we can’t always understand or explain.” You asked him if he’d ever been in love and you were only met with a gentle hand cupping your soft face upwards to meet his gaze and he responded with: “Something like that. Let’s get back before they all start to worry.”

An addiction was a resounding way to put it because that’s what you feel for him. You feel like an addict who needs their next dose or something will snap. You’re consciously aware that it’s bad— the relationship is wrong. He’s a drug that you have to put down but it’s the high that keeps coming back. You can’t recall how many times you’ve called him whether in tears or anger about his whereabouts and that you feel like you’re going crazy without him, relentlessly chewing at your nails and lips to hear any kind of reassurance.

You’re aware of what they say about addiction, that after so long you end trying to chase what it felt like for the very first time but it ends to no prevail. That it’s like chasing a ghost from the past, hoping to recapture something that becomes more elusive with each attempt. It’s only a vicious cycle of hurt and pain but you don’t feel that when you’re with him and in his presence. Hiromi knows he’s well on his way of creating a monster but there’s a part of him that feels a satisfaction unlike no other. Hiromi knows that he very well could be on his way of creating a monster, but there’s a part of him that feels a satisfaction unlike no other.

None of it matters because he feels like a cure. A cure to both for yourself and for him. He feels like the burden of pretending is finally dispelling, like there is hope at the end of a seemingly never ending tunnel. He sees the same light that you see when you look at him. But he wasn’t sure if it was love or his own sick and perverted fantasies.

“Yeah.. Say my name, please..” A low, guttural groan escapes Higuruma’s lips, a visceral sound of pleasure resonating between the bodies of you both. It carries the weight of a raw expression— the sensations engulfing him in that moment. He’s long shed any pride, unashamedly sinking into the depths of desire— a pussy too tight for its own good is the closest he’ll get to any divine. Begging is not beneath him; in fact, it’s a familiar plea woven into the fabric of his existence. The allure of depravity has become a comfortable companion with him. He revels in the depravity and perversion, finding a dark satisfaction in the forbidden. Each twisted indulgence becomes a source of pleasure and you were his main fix these days.

“Mhn—!” A strangled moan left your lips, your plump lips glossy with your saliva as your tits continuously bounced with every thrust. They had long since been exposed, a lacy under-bust bodice decorating you so perfectly. Your hands were clasped together still, rosary still in hand but any prayer of beg of forgiveness is lost on you. The coolness from the small metal cross that touches your skin almost burns and is an alarming reminder that He’s watching. “Christ..!”

“Close.. you’re so close..” A shaky breath leaves him and his brows furrow— he’s right on the edge and just needs a push. He just needs to hear you say it. Say it like it’s sacred word so he can replay it over and over again. He’ll do it until it feels too distant like a memory— until he comes back to you seeking the same solace in your cunt. “But that’s not my name. Is it..?”

“H—Hiro..mi! Oh my God.. I’m—” It couldn’t be helped anymore. Your walls wrapped around his shaft in rhythmic patterns, your own juices coming to form a white almost frothy ring around the base of his cock. You started to shake from the pleasure, your body’s involuntary response to it all. “Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me..” Oh, but even you’re aware that he’s long since given up on you. The elation and euphoria plastered on your face in such a perverse expression was depraved— it was blasphemous in the sense that he’s aware of how free you felt acting on your own selfish needs and giving into the temptation that is lust.

The act of asking for forgiveness right now is disrespectful and almost disturbing. Hiromi can see that you’re deeply troubled and displaced in this life and it comforts him in the oddest way because he doesn’t feel alone anymore. He has someone to share this burden with. Although, he does wish that you would be honest with yourself in his presence. He wonders if asking for forgiveness for you was similar to him swatting something like a gnat that comes into his face: second nature. A reaction that’s seems to be ingrained into the human response and the mind. You both knew that you had been conditioned under the pretense of believing that this route in life was the right thing to do.

Higuruma fills you up to the brim, a risky choice considering the lack of condom but neither of you cared. His hips sputter and slip until he gives you one final thrust, his pelvis pressing firmly against you as he pumps you full of his seed. His hands hold the back of your knees, pinning you into a fold that makes you feel like your muscles are tight. He’s heavy and you almost can’t breathe but it felt good— it felt so good feeling him cum inside you because it felt like he was giving you everything he had. Every piece of him.

“He can’t hear you right now, only speak to me.” His forehead rests against yours, eyes locked in an intimate stare. You look at him with such wonder like a country soul looking at city lights and skyscrapers for the first time at night.

“You’re bleeding..” He states softly, taking note of your hand. You somehow managed to pop the wire of your rosary and the wire itself seemed to work its way into your palm.

“Hiromi..” You called for him softly, watching him take your hand and gently kiss your wound— small rivulets of blood sticking to his lips. “Am I the devil..?”

“No,” Higuruma brings your hand to his face to cup his cheek, eyes heavily lidded as he looks down at you. “You’re human.”

“Let’s run away.. the both of us.”

“In time.”

#┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° bria writes!#jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #higuruma hiromi #cw.blood #cw.sacrilege #cw.religion

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actual-changeling · 8 months

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Crowley moves into the bookshop purely because he returns the next day to make sure Muriel isn't setting it on fire or selling books, and then - never leaves.

Mind you, a part of him was gritting its teeth and trying to force him back into the Bentley, back to his cold, lonely Mayfair flat, back to a bed that could swallow him whole, back to nothing.

The bookshop, on the other hand, is everything. It is memories, wine-drunk, clumsy touches they both pretend didn't mean anything, hours saturated with soft chatter and candle smoke, Aziraphale's cologne, still the same, and his books. Crowley knows the place and name of every single one; he knows when he bought it, why he bought it, how many times he has read it, and if he would ever sell it (the answer is a resounding 'no').

It is Aziraphale as much as his vest, coat, and tartan patterns are him. as much as the breath in his lungs and the angel on the tip of his tongue are him. It is a fragile fantasy of what could have been and what they almost had.

So yes, Crowley moves into the bookshop, Muriel sells no books, and sometimes, when the wine bottles go empty too quickly and too early in the evening, he closes his eyes and pretends.

"...and that was when he..."

Crowley isn't really listening anymore, contentedly sprawled across the couch and occasionally taking another sip from his half-empty glass. Watching him talk has the same appeal as watching him eat: the damp slide of his lips, his tongue darting out, the reverence with which he shapes his vowels and consonants.

He shuffles closer to the backrest when his hips threaten to slide straight off the cushions, and Aziraphale pauses, eyes locked on his exposed collarbone as his shirt refuses to move with him.

It is warm, too warm, the candles are almost close to burning down into puddles of wax; and they have been on the wrong side of midnight for a while now. For a few seconds, Crowley allows himself to indulge.

Never breaking eye contact, he could gracefully push himself upright (shut up, let him have this; we all know he'd look about as graceful as a newborn foal) and slink over to Aziraphale, who is sitting frozen in his armchair.

He could pluck his wine glass from his grasp and put it right next to his own, swallowing when he licks a lingering drop of red from his bottom lip. He could lower himself onto his lap, thighs spread apart and bracketing his, and he could press his fingers to his flushed cheeks and gently pull him in.

Crowley could kiss him and taste their shared wine, the lamb roast he had for dinner, and the vanilla cupcake, which watching him eat almost drove Crowley insane. Beneath it all, a spark of fresh air and ozone; lightning and power prickling right beneath his skin.

Crowley could kiss him, and Aziraphale would kiss him back, and the world would finally be alright.

"Are you alright, dear boy?"

Crowley hasn't moved, Aziraphale has picked up where he left off, and they're five feet apart, but it might as well be an ocean.

"'think I've had enough to drink," he mutters, and when the disappointment in his angel's eyes hits, he gets up (clumsy, not graceful, panicked, and attempting to flee) and is gone before Aziraphale has a chance to stop him.

Crowley's head hurts something awful, and he blinks himself out of his stupor, ignoring the cooling track of tears on his cheeks. Aziraphale is gone, he reminds himself, and he reaches for another bottle without taking his eyes off the empty armchair staring him down.

Crowley kissed him, and he kissed back for one marvellous second, and then the world was not alright.

And then he left.

The lights are off, as they always are nowadays, and so he drinks as much as he can in one go and falls back with creeping dizziness in his periphery.

Crowley's eyes flutter close on their own volition, and so he rewinds and rewinds until he finds the one fantasy where everything turns out alright.

It's the one that hurts the most.

It's the only one he watches over and over again.

#alex writes good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #this one is 700 words i was almost tempt to say fuck it and sit down properly to write it into a full fic #anyway some more nightly angst

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ceijoh · 2 years

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title: my wish is you

summary: where his best friend is in love with him

word count: 4k+

warnings/contents: angst, jealousy, insecurities, doubts, fluff (f!reader)

masterlist

You never once questioned your position in Atsumu’s life. You were his partner, his support, his home, the person he shares his weird jokes and thoughts with.

You knew that he loved you the most, but you weren’t his first love. It didn’t matter to you, hell, you had your first love before Atsumu but he just wasn’t in your life anymore. However, it couldn’t be said the same for Atsumu.

You knew their history; they were good friends in high school, became best friends in college and she’s stuck by him ever since then. She’s known Atsumu for longer than you have and that never bothered you. Relationships aren’t defined by time, they’re defined by feelings. You knew that they both held feelings for each other at some point but there wasn’t enough courage on either end to make it happen.

Everyone thought they would end up together, until you showed up. You caught his attention right away.. There was something Atsumu felt that he’s never felt before. You and him just clicked on levels he wasn’t even aware of.

When he told you all of this, Atsumu half expected you to tell him to never see her again, which would hurt him but if he needed that for your boundaries he would. Though you never did. You understood their feelings, the situation they were both in, but she never tried anything, so why should you tell him to stop seeing her? Besides, he was with you, he chose you and not her to be with.

He had enough courage to ask you to be his because even for one second, the thought of you slipping through his mind, he knew that he would have regretted it for the rest of his life.

You were very neutral towards her, you tried to like her at the start of your relationship, you did for the sake of yours and Atsumu’s relationships but she never did. Or maybe she did try but it was the bare minimum. While you tried to make time to hang out with her, she always came up with the excuse that she was busy, however when it was Atsumu asking her it was always a resounding yes.

You tried to turn a blind eye to some of her behaviours when you truly got serious with Atsumu. Calling him at night, the constant texts from her during the day, expecting to do the things she did with Atsumu before he got into a relationship with you. The way that whenever you three hung out together, or even in a group, she always made you somehow feel like the third wheel. Sharing the inside jokes that she and Atsumu have, the memories that you weren’t there to remember. It just hurt.

You decided to bring it up with Atsumu one night, after dinner. Putting the last wet dish on the rack, you turned to him. Noticing your eyes on him, he placed his phone down and grinned at you. “Whatcha ya thinkin’ ‘bout, angel?

Fiddling with your hands, you took a deep breath. “Remember when we first started dating, and how you told me that you and Sato-san had feelings for each other?”

Gone was the calmness Atsumu felt around you, and instead his heart picked up its pace. Where were you going with this?

Noticing his change in breathing, you quickly rectified, “I know that you don’t have feelings for her anymore, ‘Tsum,” reaching over to grab his hand and squeeze it gently. “I just don’t think that she’s over you. Actually, I don’t think she’s ever gotten over you.”

Now feeling at ease, knowing that you didn’t think of him being in love with someone else. “Does that bother ya?” At your glance, “Wait, don’t answer that!”

Shrugging, “I mean I feel uncomfortable with her always asking for your time, cutting into our dates. I know she’s your best friend, ‘Tsum, but she’s just always there asking for your time. It seems like I can’t even go on a date with you because she somehow knows and calls you and interrupts us.”

Atsumu knew you had a point but this was also one of his closest friends, “(Y/N), we just spent a lot of time together before, she’s just gettin’ used to it.”

“It’s been three years, Atsumu,” you knew that he was going to defend her, you would have been shocked if he just took your word. “Do you or do you not remember what happened on our first anniversary?”

Remembering back to the day, he did remember her texting him and calling him all day to remind him that they were supposed to have a gathering around Osamu’s place, something they often did. It just so happened that it fell on your anniversary night. The others were fine with it, knowing that your anniversary was more important than a casual night but she felt hurt.

“No one that just sees you as a best friend does that,” you reasoned out. “No one gets hurt if you’d rather spend time with your partner than your friends.”

Gulping you realised that this was probably the best time to let out all of the feelings you had about her.

“It’s just every time we hang out with her, it feels like she’s the one that’s dating you and I’m just your friend. The memories that you share together with her, the jokes, I don’t have those ones that you always bring up when we’re around with your friends, Atsumu,” feeling the familiar prick of tears in your eyes, you quickly brushed them away, something Atsumu took notice of silently.

“It makes me feel hurt, it hurts me. It feels like I don’t belong in this stupid little world that the two of you have together.”

“I don’t have the years that she has with you Atsumu, I don’t have the memories of you falling over in front of the ice-cream truck, and how that started such a great summer. I don’t have that!” Gone was the rationality that you wanted when you started this conversation, instead the hurt, the isolation, the inferiority you felt around her was speaking.

“I’m so worried that one of these days, you’ll wake up and feel like you made the wrong decision, that it was her all along, and I was just someone in the way of that,” noticing that you were crying openly, you brushed them away but it seemed like they never wanted to stop. Not able to speak anymore, you instead focused on your hands, tears still streaming down your face, a sniffle here and there.

Feeling a wave of defence over his best friend, Atsumu sighed. “Look, (Y/N). I don’t think Michi is in love with me, okay?” He looked at you intently, “Yeah, she gets touchy sometimes and she brings up these memories but that’s the way she’s always been.”

Flabbergasted that Atsumu just brushed your worries away, you scrunched up your brows. “Are you telling me that it’s all in my head? That her actions are just friendliness?”

Atsumu didn’t say anything, which you took as confirmation. “What would happen if I did that! What would have happened if I did that with Genji?” At the sound of your first love’s name, Atsumu subconsciously grimaced.

“How would you feel -as my boyfriend- if we hung out with Genj? The fact that I bring up all these memories that Genji and I share, that you weren’t a part of? How would you feel if I started hugging Genji longer than necessary, Miya?” You spat out. Yes, you were still hurt and angry but you thought your boyfriend would have at least pandered to your worries.

The feeling of his heart clenching at the sound of his surname and your ex-boyfriend's first name in a sentence made Atsumu feel queasy.

“I tell you that I’m worried that you’ll leave me for her, and you can’t even comfort me?” You spoke raising your voice, your nostrils flared and you clenched your jaw. “You were so willing to make up excuses for her, but you can’t even spare me some shitty words to comfort me,” scoffing you rolled your eyes.

You mumbled something under your breath and stalked off without another word. Atsumu, feeling ashamed of the actions he just did, sat down on the couch. Never had you spoken like that to him before, relaying the conversation in his head, he knew that he rightfully deserved it.

Why? Why did he feel such a need to make excuses for her? Why couldn’t he have just said the words he wanted to say? That he doesn’t care if they have a bunch of history together, his future only has you in it. He only wants a future with you and no one else.

Walking into the bedroom, he expected to see you in bed curled away from him but all he saw was an empty bed. Panicking and his heart beating fast, did you leave? Where did you go? He quickly walked to the bathroom, sighing in relief when he saw your things were still there. Moving towards the spare bedroom, he turned the handle only to find out that it was locked. Something shattered within Atsumu when the door didn’t open. This has never happened.

In the morning, Atsumu woke up, spread his hand out, ready to pull you into him. When he felt the empty space, he sat up, trying to get used to the sun, shaking his head. Where were you? When he remembered what happened last night, he clenched his fist and fell back into bed.

Walking into the living room, Atsumu noticed you by the sofa, a coffee in your hand. His heart felt like it could crack in any minute, and he felt like shit. This was the first time in your relationship that you two decided to sleep apart and fuck, he never wanted that ever again.

“Hey angel,” his voice was groggy, and he noticed that there was no breakfast.

“Sorry,” you shrugged, “I just woke up. Had a shitty sleep.”

Chuckling slowly, “Tell me about it.”

You both shared a look, and Atsumu felt a little lighter. Walking over to the machine, he could feel your gaze on him. He knew he needed to sort this out now but with an important practice in a couple of hours, he knows he can’t.

“I’m sorry about-”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off sharply. “It was my fault to bring it up.” Finishing up your last sip of coffee, you placed it in the sink. “I have a meeting today, I’ll be late so there won’t be any dinner but you have plans with her don’t you?”

You didn’t have to ask, it was their Tuesday night after all. Looking at your phone, you glanced back at Atsumu, “Actually, I’ll be in and out with meetings all day. Try not to text me, I probably won’t be able to respond.”

Without another word, you walked up to your shared bedroom intent on getting ready as quickly as you can.

Stunned at your cold and blunt words to Atsumu, something you’ve never done. Maybe in a teasing tone, but it was always accompanied by a smile. Just how much did he fuck up?

It was thirty minutes since he last saw you, sitting by the couch sipping his coffee, looking through his phone. He heard you and looked up. Fixing up your blazer and moving quickly to the door, you looked at Atsumu. “I didn’t have time to make your bento today, but maybe she can, if you text her.” Without another word, the door shut.

Whether it was a metaphor for your feelings with Atsumu, the man did not know.

“Tsum-Tsum, where’s your lunch that (Y/N)-chan always packs?” Bokuto asked, noticing that his teammate just had some store bought pre-made lunch.

Ashamed, Atsumu was quiet for a moment, earning looks from his three teammates. Hinata looked towards Bokuto and Sakusa who just shrugged in response, “Are you okay, Tsum?”

Nodding quickly, Atsumu smirked and threw his arm around Bokuto, “Don’t ya worry Bokkun!”

Tossing in a joke, Atsumu hoped his teammates would just let it go and not pay attention to the rising tension.

“(Y/N) has never once missed making your lunch, even when she had a fever she still made something for you,” Sakusa’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. Turning to the black haired man, Atsumu watched as Sakusa narrowed his eyes at him. “So, what did you do?”

Plastering a fake grin on his face, Atsumu gave him a thumbs up, “Nothing, Omi-Omi! Don’tcha worry!”

Blocking Atsumu’s sidestep, Sakusa glared the older man down, “I am worried because my friend is not responding to me.”

“But I am responding to you.”

“I’m not talking about you,” Sakusa snapped. It was weird for Atsumu, two people that he cared for a lot, who he’s annoyed until they’re red in the face but never snapped or raised their voice at him, just in less than 24 hours. “Iwaizumi-san says that she’s not responding to him either. Talk.”

Atsumu sighed in defeat, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to leave without indulging Sakusa with the problems with you. He didn’t want to tell more people about this, he wanted to fix this as soon as he could, and he’d rather not have other people interfering. Realising it was too late, as Sakusa and Iwaizumi knew of your behaviour, and knowing that if they knew, your other best friends and his brother would definitely know, Atsumu knew he was in deep shit. And maybe Sakusa can give him some advice.

“I mean, can you blame her?” He turned to Kiyoomi who was staring at him with distaste. “I mean, you basically told your girlfriend that her feelings weren’t genuine. That she was just making it up in her head.”

“I never said those words,” Atsumu spoke angrily.

Sakusa just shrugged, “You implied it though. By not acknowledging her feelings, you gave her the assumption that you don’t care about them. Just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean that it’s not happening.”

The younger man brushed off the invisible dust, and sanitised his hands, placing them in his pockets. He looked at Atsumu once. “You’re lucky that she didn’t break up with you,” Kiyoomi stated bluntly. “I wouldn’t fault her if she did.”

Entering her house, something he’s done plenty of times, this was the first time it’s ever felt wrong. He could see her by the kitchen, she turned around giving Atsumu a beaming smile. He shouldn’t be here. This felt wrong. This felt like betrayal.

“(Y/N) thinks yer still in love with me,” Atsumu began, no point in beating around the bush. Rubbing his face, tired of the day, tired of the fight, “But I said yer not, yer just sentimental.”

Michi paused her movements, and turned around to face Atsumu. Heart beating in her chest, she tucked a piece of hair behind hair. This was it, this was the moment that she’s been waiting for. It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, Michi finally said the one thing she’s been dying to say, “But, Atsumu, I do love you.”

Atsumu sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his hair, “Why now? Why now that I’m with (Y/N)?”

“You knew, you always knew that we had something going on!”

“And we never took a chance, did we?” Atsumu spat out. “That was both of our faults!”

“We were supposed to end up together,” she mumbled, the confidence she had moments ago slowly disappearing.

“We were kids,” Atsumu rebutted, fire in his words. “What I have with (Y/N), this is serious. This is what I’ve been wantin’ all along.”

“We had that!”

“We never did!” Atsumu was tired. He was tired of all of this, he didn’t expect this to blow up this big. “Maybe we had a taste of what could be, but what you and I had, does not and will never compare to what I have with (Y/N).”

“I’ve known you for longer, Atsumu, I know you better than she could ever hope to,” she pleaded. “I’m in love with you, and I know that you’re in love with me. We were supposed to be together, it would have just taken longer.”

Atsumu moved his mouth to say something, but all he could do was stare at her. He wanted to say ‘maybe in another life’, but the words couldn’t escape him. And he knew that if he said it, it would be a lie. In this life and any other lives that he has, the only person he wants to share them is with you.

As much as Atsumu wanted to sit down and gather his thoughts, he needed this to get over as soon as he could. He needed to get back to you.

“I know that I wasn’t ready back then, but now I’m ready for you. I’m here,” Michi glanced at Atsumu, at the man that she’s been in love with for the past decade. “I’m in love with you Atsumu and I want to be with you.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, there was his best friend, the person that once held his heart saying the words he once longed to hear. There was something disdainful in her tone, it felt wrong coming from her. It never did with you. It always felt right, like every time you said it a missing puzzle piece was completed inside of Atsumu.

If it was a couple of years ago, Atsumu would have jumped at the chance but that was before you. Before you turned his whole world upside down and he finally realised what being in love meant. Just because Michi knew Atsumu longer, and she thought that she knew Atsumu deeper, everyone knew it was you. It was you that fit right at Atsumu’s side.

You were the one that understood his moods, even before you began dating, you never once pushed him. You accepted how he felt and dealt with his emotions, and you were always there to give a hand if he needed or asked for it. It was the late night talks where he didn’t realise that he was already in love with you, it was the eagerness to see your face everyday. To talk to you everyday, to have those mundane and simple things that he despised before but then it was all he wanted to do, because he got to do it with you.

It was the feeling of being complete with you. Michi completed him in a way that Atsumu knew, she fit into his world, she was best friends with him. But you were his world. You filled in spaces that Atsumu didn’t even realise were empty. The cracks that were filled with your laughter and soft kisses, the void that he ignored was filled with your soft whispers about the future.

It never felt right until you.

It’s always been you.

With the lack of response, Michi bowed her head, “You’re choosing her, aren’t you?”

Without a pause, Atsumu responded, “Yeah,” looking at her, Atsumu felt nothing. There was an air indifference surrounding her. “I’ll always choose her, no matter what.”

Atsumu hopes that she understood what he said. Even if she begged, even if she pleaded for him to choose her, it would always be you. It’s always been you.

Atsumu straightened his back, “I think this friendship needs to end, Sato-san. My relationship with (Y/N) will always be the most important, she’s the most important person to me. I’ve loved her more than I’ve ever loved anyone, and will ever love anyone.” Taking a couple of steps towards the door, “And I can’t have anyone doubting that for her.”

It took ten years for her to say what she felt, and it only took Atsumu a couple of minutes to destroy her life, and a couple of steps to walk away from her forever. Dropping to her knees, Michi sobbed knowing that she was too late.

You were sitting at the dinner table, the dinner ready to be eaten at any moment. Looking towards the door once you heard it unlocked, you saw as Atsumu walked in, taking a deep breath and looking right at you.

Closing the door, he hastily made his way to you. Tugging you out of your chair gently, he wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry,” mumbling the words into your neck over and over again, you hesitantly wrapped your arms around him.

“I ended my friendship with Sato-san,” shocked at the words coming out of his mouth, shocked at the use of her surname and the formality, you moved yourself a little bit from Atsumu.

“‘Tsum, what?”

Repeating what he just told you, Atsumu looked you right in the eyes, willing to believe his truth. “I’ll always choose you.”

“‘Tsum, you didn’t have to do that. You could have just not spoken to her for a while, you didn’t need to cut her out of your life.”

Atsumu shook his head, “I never want ya to ever feel like I’m second guessing who I chose, and I know yer,” tapping the side of your head with his fingers, he smiled down at you. “Ya get into yer own head way too much. If she was around, I know you’d always be comparin’ or thinkin’ with that big brain of yers.”

“But aren’t you sad?”

“I am,” Atsumu said truthfully. “But I know that I’ll get through it, with ya around,” nuzzling into your neck he couldn’t help continue, “but if it was you.”

Looking at you, you could see his eyes watering, “If it was you, if I lost ya for some reason, I don’t think I’d be able to continue.”

Gently cupping his face with your hands, caressing the apple of his cheeks with your thumb, “You never have to worry about me leaving you, Miya Atsumu. I’m yours forever.”

“And I’ll always be yers, now and forever,” placing his forehead to yours, Atsumu felt his heart be at peace for the first time since last night. “I want ya for longer than forever, angel.”

Grinning, you moved yourself closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down on the couch with you, him on top of you. “I’m more than okay with that.”

Pulling you into his lap, Atsumu held your hands in his, “I’m sorry,” was what he started with. Tightening his hands, “I’m so sorry I ever made ya feel like that. I don’t care if I have ten years worth of memories with her because that means nothin’ with the forever I want with ya,” Atsumu began. “Those memories were what I remember most when we were kids, those inside jokes are just that, inside jokes with her. What I want is the jokes we’ll pass down to our kids, the stories that we’ll share to our kids. The memories that I’ll repeat and say to you before I say ‘I do’. All the memories that I had with her, angel, don’t compare nothin’ to one memory I have with ya.”

“Miya Atsumu,” you started, you could feel your heart beating against your chest rapidly. You never expected Atsumu to stop being friends with her. You truly just wanted for them to take a break.

You knew he’s loved you since you first met because you were the exact same. The way he filled your world with his brightness, the way he always made you feel like his priority above everything else, when he made you feel seen and remembered. Above all else, you felt warm and safe with him. There was no one but Miya Atsumu for you.

“You’re a great big sap, you know that?”

“Angel, I just bared my heart out to ya,” groaning, he pinched your side, a cheeky smirk on his face. “And that’s why yer saying to me.”

“That’s my heart too, mister,” leaning forward you pressed a soft kiss to his chest.

Grinning down at you, Atsumu knew that you could feel his heartbeat, and he didn’t care. Whatever he felt for you he wanted you to know.

“Yeah, princess, it is,” kissing the top of your head. “It’ll always be yours.”

“Don’t make me choose between you and her.”

“Why? Because you’ll choose her?”

“Yeah. I’ll choose her.”

happy early birthday, miya atsumu, you absolute disgusting goblin (affectionate).

#haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu angst #atsumu angst #atsumu fluff #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu one shot #atsumu imagine #atsumu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenarios #miya atsumu

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starseungs · 2 days

Text

lunchtime tea, served by yours truly. ksm.

kim seungmin x fem!reader — getting dragged over to the student council office instead of the cafeteria was far from your lunchtime plans. too bad seungmin seemed to think otherwise.

genre/s — fluff, humor if it counts, historical fantasy, academy au, duke's son!seungmin x marquis' daughter!y/n • 1.3k words

warning/s — petty noble disputes, seungmin implies a nepotism plan (laughs nervously), both of them are in their second to the last year of academy = they're both around 21 !!

note — here's a short fic i whipped up as i finish take a shot ! yes, its inspired by those rofan manhwas with academy arcs/settings. im obsessed with those ngl

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

“Would it really be such a crime to enjoy one peaceful lunch session, Your Grace?”

You sank down with a huff on the smooth velvety sofa propped in the middle of the spacious office room, not paying any mind to the way the door shut with a soft click despite your strong swing to open it earlier. A pair of footsteps other than yours echoed in the space, the flat, heavy heels of the figure’s shoes clacking with strong authority. Yet, you remained unfazed despite the strong aura permeating the enclosure—choosing to stand your ground with a click of a tongue.

Seungmin sighed at the sight of your demeanor.

“And I believe it would be against academy ordinance for you to call me by that title within the campus premises, Lady Y/N.” He reprimands you with a low drawl before carefully taking a seat at his desk located front and center against a massive glass window, his silhouette strengthening as he leans forward to rest his arms on the desk. You could only whine in mockery at his reply.

“Boo,” you scoffed before crossing your arms and craning your head to stare at him. “Such a stickler for the rules, are you not?”

Seungmin hummed. “I suppose you may be right, but could I also offer you information on my father’s well-being?” He says with a tone implying sweetness, even if you knew otherwise.

“The Duke is alive and well—yes, I am aware,” you pressed for a smile as innocent as you could manage, enjoying the way Seungmin’s formal facade fell apart slightly before getting gathered up once again. The young Lord cleared his throat before continuing the questionable exchange between the two of you.

“Therefore, we should not be having this conversation in the first place.”

“However, you are the heir to the dukedom, if I recall correctly?”

“Yes, you do.”

You then brought your hands together in a resounding clap at his answer, signifying a remarkable conclusion. “Then it is the same thing.”

Seungmin groaned tiredly at your unbelievable words. “It is clearly not—” he suddenly paused mid-sentence. You watched as his eyes narrowed with an inquisitive glint before he took an obvious intake of air. “I’m getting the slight inkling that you are doing this to raise my temper.”

A prominent laugh bubbled its way out of your throat. “I do find that side of you quite charming, yes.”

“I will pretend to not hear your comment, My Lady,” Seungmin pinched the bridge of his nose, desperately trying to subside his growing stress. “And I would like to inform you belatedly that a peaceful lunch should be the last of your priorities at the moment.”

The involuntary squawk that came out of you voiced your offense. “Well, this is surprising news, as I have not received any notice about a new dietary restriction!”

“It is not—” Seungmin caught himself again. You grinned mischievously at his obvious struggle before collecting yourself when you felt a pointed glare being sent in your direction. He exhaled heavily, “Proceeding with the matter at hand, are you aware of the number of complaints the Theta group has placed upon your name?”

“I do believe there has not been a single soul in this academy who has not,” you hummed in acknowledgement.

“My Lady, forgive me for being rude; however, the answer I was hoping for was to be about how you are planning on addressing this issue.”

“Oh,” you blinked. “Then, I plan to do nothing about the issue.”

A small thud was heard from Seungmin’s direction, prompting you to look over to see what had caused such a sound. Low and behold, the sight of the academy’s best student holding his head down towards the polished mahogany desk in defeat—rendering you unsure of what to do next. There had only been a few times in your entire lifetime that you had seen Seungmin completely shatter his dignified demeanor, and you had known the man since you were six. Now you fear that you had actually crossed a line.

“Y/N,” he raised his head ever so slightly to lock eyes with you, his next order coming out as a plea. “Just explain why you poured a cup of tea over Lady Colette’s head.”

“Then forgive me as well for my words. However, in my perspective, Theta is nothing but a pathetic excuse for an institutional social group,” you sighed, remembering the events of the tea party yesterday. “I do not know why they still prove to be the most popular social group for ladies when the Zeta group has always been better. Theta are barely anything worth more than a babble of obnoxious noble daughters who prefer to place themselves on a higher pedestal than they deserve. Lady Colette was terrorizing a freshman from a country-side barony. I only did my best to stop her, considering the fact that mere words seemed to hold no interest for her.”

Seungmin raised a brow. “Quite an interesting way of describing them, don’t you think?”

“Well, I did send my apologies before doing so, did I not?” You smiled back as part of your reply, proudly this time. Seungmin could only scoff, albeit greatly amused.

“You have got to stop trying to outsmart me in times like these, Y/N,” he said, standing up. “You of all people should know how much I lack the ability to harbor ill feelings towards you.”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow at his surprisingly favorable response. For holding the most coveted position of justice available for students in this academy, Seungmin was surely pressing less strongly on your faults. Perhaps it was a good thing that you still made sure to cool the tea before you dumped it on that Marquis’ pompous daughter.

“Playing favorites, are we now, Mr. President?”

Seungmin laughed openly this time. Talk about a change of mood. “I see that you have now chosen to switch to a different formality, yet again,” he mused on his way towards your figure on the couch. “See, you wouldn’t have this much trouble with other noble ladies if you just joined the student council.”

“Here you go again with your offer,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You of all people should know exactly why I cannot take a position in the council, Seungmin.”

“In my opinion, it would be seen as a reasonable training ground for the future Duchess.”

“You just like the way I do paperwork!” You expressed disbelief at his plan’s implication. “And high society might as well burn me into ashes, thinking that I take advantage of my position as your betrothed.”

Seungmin sighed dreamily, completely disregarding your latter comment. “I do love the way you do your paperwork. Such a perfect pair to my work ethic,” he says, sitting comfortably beside you with a relaxed exhale. “Yes, I genuinely do not see what is so wrong about the offer.”

“Seungmin,” you scowled at him. “Do you wish to put a stain on your reputation?”

“Oh, look at you scolding me as if we had already stated our vows,” Seungmin pinched your cheek in a tease. You attempted to push his hand away, only for him to grab it and intertwine your fingers, leaving you breathless as he placed a feathery kiss on your knuckles. “My dearest fiancee, I do not care what others may think of me. If I am able to, I will give anything you ask for without a silver of hesitation.” He gazed directly at your eyes, pupils swimming with unknown desire.

“My Duchess only deserves the best, after all.”

You pursed your lip at his intimate actions, feeling your stomach do crazed flips at his undivided attention. “It is quite concerning how biased you seem to be when it comes to this matter, Mr. President,” you gave in, letting yourself fall on his broad shoulder. “What have I even done to warrant your unyielding obsession with me?”

Seungmin’s chest rumbled in delight, the lull comforting your mind glazed over with his presence.

“Exist. Now, what do you think of becoming Vice President next year?”

“Serve me tea first, and I'll think about it.”

mastertag 🔖— send in an ask if you want to be added ! 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu @lixxpix

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asamiontop · 7 months

Text

Supercorptober - Wild or…

Captain Underpants (also on Ao3)

Lena: Text me when you get this.

Kara squints at the message. If she narrows her eyes to slits, the photonic assault hurts her eyeballs less. The text is from Lena, so she answers right away. Doesn’t matter that it’s far past late at night and still hours away from early morning.

Kara: hey got your message. what’s up?

She thinks, mistakenly, that Lena will be asleep. She hopes, misguidedly, that that will afford her a few precious hours of rest herself. Her phone chimes and shatters that fantasy in its infancy.

Lena: Are you home?

That’s concerning. Even through the swampiness of fading inebriation and a blossoming hangover, Kara’s synapses spark to life at the idea that Lena may be in trouble.

Kara: I’m home. everything okay?

The response comes back so fast that Kara suspects Lena started typing before she’d even answered.

Lena: I’m coming over.

Kara glances blearily at her alarm clock. 2:47am. Something is definitely wrong.

It’s a testament to her body’s exhaustion that, despite the urgency, Kara manages to fall asleep. She jolts awake to the sound of cannonballs exploding in her ears, the echoes rattling around in her skull. Her superhearing is out of whack from the sleep or the alcohol or both and nearby noise is amplified a thousandfold. The resounding knock at her door sounds more like a battering ram than a fist.

“Kara?” Lena’s voice drifts through the apartment and all other noise seems to melt away. The soothing effect is immediate. Kara’s heart slides back down her throat and thumps in relief. She sags into her pillow with a sigh before she remembers the fact that Lena is visiting her at three in the morning.

Kara superspeeds to the entryway. She just barely reminds herself to touch down on the floor before unlocking the deadbolt.

“Lena!” Kara whips her door open. She’s prepared for the whole range of human emotion, perhaps some tears or sobs or panic or any external sign of distress.

Instead Lena greets her with pursed lips (puckered in that distracting way that accentuates the crisp line of her jaw), a tilted head, and brassy raise of her eyebrow. Lena looks as beautiful as ever in the middle of the night, but she certainly does not appear distressed.

She gives Kara an undisguised once-over.

“Hello, Supergirl,” Lena deadpans.

All the oxygen leaves the room. Kara’s anatomy doesn’t require much of it, but she still feels like she’s choking on the lack of air. Her eyes bug out and she momentarily loses all cognitive function as her half-drunk system begins a hard reboot into this new reality where apparently Lena now knows her secret identity. The corner of Lena’s mouth twitches victoriously and somehow that is what kicks Kara back to the land of the living.

Without so much as a warning, she snags Lena by the wrist and yanks her bodily into the apartment. It’s a whole miracle Kara doesn’t slam the door off its hinges as Lena stumbles past the threshold.

“Heh—Supergi—that’s funny—what, uh.” Kara squeaks, sounding totally normal. She whirls around to face her friend with a manic laugh and round, wild eyes, “W-what are you talking about?”

Alex teases Kara relentlessly for her inability to play it cool. As she scratches the back of her own neck only to realize that her hair is down and her glasses are sitting uselessly on her nightstand, then completely misses the wall she intended to lean against and surreptitiously floats to keep her balance, Kara admits that her sister may be onto something.

“Kara, please.” Lena’s eyebrow lifts so high that her forehead wrinkles to accommodate it. “Don’t insult me.”

She opens her mouth to speak but something about the way Lena’s regarding her—resolute and impatient, like she’s just waiting for Kara to catch up so they can move on— makes her snap her jaw shut. Kara abandons her remaining denial with a long exhale.

She can’t help but cling to a thread or plausible deniability though.

“What, um.” Kara clears her throat. “What makes you think that I’m—” her voice cracks on the words, so foreign to her in this context— “that I’m Supergirl?”

Instead of answering, Lena raises an unimpressed eyebrow. Wordlessly, she turns on her heel and heads for Kara’s coffee table. Puzzled, the superhero follows. She just about combusts when Lena flicks on the television.

There, in what must have been filmed by a cell-phone, is Supergirl, twirling through the air suitless and cape-less—wearing nothing save for a matching sports bra and boxers. Kara’s jaw unhinges. She thinks her eyes hurt from how wide they’ve gotten. Supergirl’s hair is blowing freely in the breeze and she looks absolutely delighted as she corkscrews aimlessly above the city, half-naked and carefree.

Kara watches in horror as the video zooms in shamelessly on her butt. (Rao damn The Fruit for stuffing their mobile devices with such capable cameras.) This, mortifyingly, is precisely where Lena chooses to pause the coverage. She clicks the remote, freezing the frame on a screenful of Kara’s backside, and points an elegant but accusatory finger at the blown-up image of Kara’s favorite underwear.

It’s not just any old set of underwear. These ones are indescribably soft and comfortable. They fit just right, snug in all the right places, and they are adorned with a bizarrely adorable pattern of cartoon potstickers, puppies, and chopsticks. Most precious of all, they were a gift from one Lena Luthor last Christmas.

Kara ventures a shifty glance at the CEO, whose eyebrow is still quirked expectantly.

Stupidly, Kara blurts the first thing occurs to her. “That could be anyone.”

A second eyebrow climbs to match the first, shifting Lena’s expression from confident to incredulous in a single movement.

“I—I mean,” the superhero stammers, “it’s a really cute pattern a-and maybe Supergirl got herself the same set you bought me.”

Lena’s eyes close slowly, patiently and she shakes her head. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she mutters, “I don’t see how that’s possible.”

“Why not?” Kara demands, incomprehensibly committed to her flimsy excuse. “Lots of people like potstickers and puppies!”

“Because they are custom, Kara.” Lena’s head tilts sharply and she skewers the blonde with a pointed look. “I had them custom-made for your gift.”

“Oh.” Kara blinks. “You did?” Her voice ticks up at the end, betraying how oddly touched she feels at the gesture.

Lena appears exhausted but at least somewhat amused now. “Yes. Did you think I happened to fortuitously stumble upon the exact combination of all your favorite things printed on the exact type of undergarment you happen to favor?”

“Um… yes?” Kara shrugs even as the feeble defense crumbles around her. “You can find anything on the internet nowadays.”

Lena sighs. “Kara.” The super’s eyes lock on hers and Lena deliberately drags her green gaze down Kara’s front and slowly back up.

The hint of heat in Lena’s eyes isn’t lost on the Kryptonian, so her face is already two shades pinker than normal when she follows Lena’s stare down her own body.

Her cheeks flame up fully at the visual reminder that she is in fact still wearing the offending undergarments and precious little else.

“Oh.” Kara swallows. She is fully on display for Lena—not only mostly undressed, which induces its own type of stirrings in her belly, but also in clothes unmistakably identical to the superhero frozen on the screen. It’s four coincidences too many.

“Oh,” Lena parrots, nodding once.

Kara’s arms cross instinctively over her bare stomach. She’s ashamed. Not of her body, but of attempting to keep up such a charade without a lick of self-awareness. Mostly, she’s ashamed of hiding the truth from the person with whom she’d most wanted to share it.

Frankly, it’s a monumental relief to be unshackled from her secret. Without the burden of her identity, Kara can truly give Lena her full self, share all the bits and pieces of her that have sat leaden and unspoken on the tip of her tongue for months. Now that Kara has the liberty to be well and truly honest, maybe she can finally entertain the budding intimacy and extra warmth that’s been building around her best friend. She’s never felt quite so enthralled to be the focus of someone’s gaze before and maybe if—

Kara shakes her head, clearing away the cobwebs of hope. There’s a very different reality to be faced right now.

Casting an anxious glance at her feet, Kara flexes her toes and reaches for the grounding sensation of the grain in the hardwood.

Kara swallows thickly, mind alight with all the wrong turns this revelation can take, all the covert ways her secret could have already poisoned their relationship beyond recovery.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbles, forcing her voice to remain steady even as she collapses into a defeated heap on the couch.

After a few seconds of silence, she gathers all the courage in her rapidly accelerating heart and glances up for Lena’s reaction.

Once again her best friend surprises her. Lena doesn’t seem mad or hurt or resentful. She looks… perplexed, if not a little exasperated.

“What exactly are you apologizing for?” Lena asks slowly once their eyes lock.

Kara senses her own crinkle bunching between her eyebrows to match Lena’s. “For keeping this from you,” she answers dejectly.

Lena’s eyes widen and Kara rushes to justify herself. The explanation clambers out of her of its own accord, gathering momentum and volume like a snowball rolling downhill.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you so badly, Lena. For months! You’re one of the most important people in my life! I trust you. I–I can’t really explain it, but something about you has always made me feel safe. I just, I felt like I knew you from the moment we met. And that feeling hasn’t faded at all. In fact, it’s grown stronger. I think maybe it’s even become—”

Kara stops short of broaching that subject and launches up off the couch, beginning a proper maniacal pacing across her living room floor.

“You didn’t even need to but you went ahead and proved to me and Supergirl and everyone in the world that you are even more noble and good than I imagined. You are so incredible, Lena. Of everyone I love, you deserve to know this part of me. But—but this superhero thing is so complicated. There are all these rules with the DEO and it’s not always safe for the people that know my identity and—”

“Kara—”

“—and as much as I wanted to be completely open with you, I couldn’t risk you getting hurt. I can’t. I won’t. So then—”

“Kara, darling.” The endearment smashes sideways into Kara and brings her ramble to a skidding, screeching halt. “Stop talking.”

Dumbstruck, Kara does. She turns back to Lena and nearly suffocates at the fondness she finds shining back at her. It’s accompanied by a dash of amusement and that same exasperation from before, but the affection is there and it’s so warm that Kara’s cheeks heat up to match. How Lena can still look at her like that after what Kara’s kept from her is… it feels unfair.

“I’m really sorry Lena,” Kara insists quietly, this time staring directly into those striking windows of sea-glass green and willing her to see how acutely she means it.

“Don’t be.” Lena’s expression softens even further and Kara wonders if this is how it would feel to live life as a lava cake. Airy on the outside and melty on the inside. Warm and delicious all over. It’s nice. Maybe she can get Lena to eat her if—Kara blinks out of her daze. Okay so perhaps she is still a teensy, weensy bit tipsy.

Lena doesn’t seem to notice her brief departure because she adds very earnestly, “I understand why your identity needs safeguarding. I can’t imagine very many people know this about you.”

“No,” Kara agrees, eyes seeking the floor again.

“Frankly, I wouldn’t have expected you to reveal something so sensitive to someone like me.”

The self-deprecation in Lena’s tone is unacceptable. Kara is about to protest that she wanted to—would have if not for the magical influence of Alex’s good sense—when Lena shrugs.

“And we’ve only known one another for a year. There are bound to be some secrets.” The next part is whispered, as if Lena doesn’t mean for Kara to hear. “God knows I have some.”

“Wait—” Kara teeters closer, itching with that Lena-fueled curiosity that swims constantly through her veins.

Lena’s eyebrow twitches haughtily and she smiles, reaching out to pat Kara’s hand. “Matters for another time, darling.”

She wraps her fingers loosely around Kara’s and guides them both onto the couch. Kara, ostensibly still in her underwear, pulls a throw pillow into her lap.

Without warning, Lena resumes the video. The frozen widescreen snapshot of Kara’s behind shrinks away mercifully to the top corner of her TV, revealing a smirking newscaster barely keeping her laughter at bay. Her brown eyes dance as she describes Supergirl’s latest antics in excruciating detail to whichever unfortunate souls are watching at this time of the night.

“Why are we still watching this?” Kara mumbles, hugging the pillow to her chest. Lena remains placidly silent.

Just as Kara thinks her public shaming is complete, a new video overtakes the screen. This one is shot from a much better—or incriminating—angle. Namely, a news helicopter hovering at altitude, level with Supergirl as she floats in lazy spirals then flutters hundreds of feet down, playful and giggling, before shooting back up and starting again.

Kara really takes the cake when she stops mid-somersault and flashes the camera an unfocused wave and a dazzling smile. ‘Up, up and away,’ the half-naked superhero slurs. Then she proceeds to plunge straight out of the sky, giggling gleefully as she falls.

“Oh god,” Kara groans as the camera swings wildly to chase her back into the frame. It finally catches up to her as Kara’s trajectory is intercepted by a green-black blur. She and the blur disappear in a flash of red and the video gives way to the newscaster once more, speculating about the inexplicable nature of her behavior.

So that’s why J’onn had showed up to fly Supergirl home.

“I…” Is there kryptonite in the room or is she just burning up from sheer embarrassment? “I don’t remember doing that,” Kara whispers, quiet as a mouse.

Beside her, Lena snorts. Kara swivels to glare at her but the image of Lena stifling a laugh into the tips of her fingers is entirely too cute to hold a grudge against. She pouts instead.

Eventually the CEO regains her composure and asks, exceedingly gentle, “What do you remember?”

Kara’s features scrunch into a frown as she replays the last several hours in her head. It’s somewhat blurry, but there’s a chronological consistency to the snippets of clarity.

“It… it was my night off,” Kara begins. A picture of Alex’s rowdy laugh shimmers to life in her mind’s eye and she smiles. “Sister’s night.”

Lena nods, smiles just because Kara did and that—that’s really something. Her heart does a happy little flump. Then she remembers.

“That’s why I didn’t have my supersuit!” Kara snaps her fingers. “J’onn told us he had everything covered tonight. He said we should take the night to really unwind.”

Lena’s unimpressed little ah sets Kara into a guilty grimace. “I… don’t think this is what he meant he meant by unwind,” Kara admits.

“Probably not.” Lena agrees. It’s a gentle admonishment and a flat tease all in one and Kara is too busy thinking that Lena is miraculous to be at all bothered by the joke at her expense. “What did you two plan for sister’s night?”

“Well… Alex came over and we had a few drinks. I remember she brought some sort of alien punch or something. I don’t know what was in it but it was really yummy. I… got a little drunker than I meant to.”

Kara omits the part where she ignored Alex’s warning about the potency of said beverages because ‘I have a Kryptonian metabolism Alex. I’ll be fine.’

“Oh. So this…” Lena gestures vaguely in the direction of the television. It’s paused on another unflattering view from below and Kara wrinkles her nose. “Was alcohol-induced?”

“Yeah…” she admits, dragging out the word.

Lena raises an eyebrow. “And… voluntary?”

“Um. Yes.”

Lena regards her for a long moment, then releases a gargantuan breath. Her shoulders fall with it, settling almost one full inch below where they’d been twisted in tension since she arrived. “Well that’s a relief,” she exhales.

“It—it is?” Kara tilts her head.

“I thought you’d been poisoned.” Lena looks at her sharply and Kara swallows. “I was… concerned.”

The flash of vulnerability in her eyes is as close as Lena gets to chastising her, but Kara still feels it like a punch to the gut. It doesn’t take much work to put herself in Lena’s shoes, to imagine the sensation of the ground dropping out from underneath her when a slew of worst case scenarios take up residence in her brain. Combined with the realization that Supergirl’s erratic behavior is also her best friend’s, it might just warrant the frazzled and urgent messages in the middle of the night.

“I’m sorry,” Kara winces. “I promise I’m okay. Just a bit hungover, probably.” She pauses thoughtfully. “If it makes you feel any better, you weren’t entirely wrong.” Lena’s brow furrows and Kara grins dumbly, if only to inject a little levity into the moment. “Alcohol is pretty much poison. I just, you know, did the poisoning myself. I had a great time.”

There’s a stifled snort sound again and then Lena’s chuckling, loose at last and shaking her head fondly. Kara melts into the angelic sound, into the familiarity and affection twinkling within.

“So long as you’re okay,” Lena adds.

“I’m alright,” Kara reassures. She reaches for Lena’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “I promise.”

Keeping their hands joined, Lena tips her head curiously. “There’s just one thing I don’t understand.”

“Yeah?”

“If you and Alex were home—here, then why did you leave without your suit on?”

“Oh, uh...” Kara thinks for a moment. “We went out at some point. Alex convinced me to go to Al’s—the alien bar—to meet up with Maggie—which,” Kara bristles and sniffs loudly, “was extremely generous of me, considering it was sister’s night.”

She glances at Lena for validation but her best friend just blinks placidly and waits. Kara pauses to wonder if she’s causing any sort of distress with all of the alien information she’s tossing her way. After a few seconds of Kara studying her, Lena finally raises her eyebrows in question.

“Sorry,” Kara shakes her head. “Anyway. We went to the bar and had a couple more drinks. And then—this is where things get kind of fuzzy.” Kara blushes. “Alex left with Maggie, I think.”

“Alex left you at the bar alone? While you were clearly not sober?” Lena’s face screws into a glare of disapproval. “That doesn’t sound like Agent Danvers.”

Kara barks a laugh at the formal form of address. “No, it definitely doesn’t,” she concedes. “I don’t think she actually left me though… I remember being in a cab. And then… um. Not in a cab.”

“Did the taxi drop you off at home?”

“No?” Kara wracks her brain. “I don’t think so. I remember wandering around a park somewhere and realizing I was lost. I know the city so well from above but down here I… get a little turned around sometimes.”

Kara’s cheeks flush at the admission but Lena’s fingers flex around her hand encouragingly and she relaxes.

“Anyway, when I realized I was lost I figured it would be best if I just flew myself home.”

The logic of the moment comes rushing back all at once and Kara feels the tips of her ears go from pink to red to redder. Lena, genius that she is, puts it together rather quickly.

“But you didn’t have your suit.”

“Yeah…” Kara affirms through a dry mouth.

“So you…” Lena begins, encouraging Kara to finish. She’s too embarrassed to even try. After several moments of nothing, Lena rips off the bandaid. “So you undressed to avoid being recognized?”

There’s an inferno blazing somewhere in this room, Kara swears it. She nods, not daring to meet Lena’s eyes.

A minuscule giggle reaches her ears and she breaks.

“I—I didn’t have a choice!” Kara whines. “It was late, I was lost, and my phone was dead and I, I… didn’t know what else to do!”

“Oh dear. Good thing you’re invulnerable.” Lena chuckles. “It's okay, darling.”

“It’s not!” Kara glares over at the TV. “I thought I was being clever. I even folded my shirt and my jeans and hid them in a bush, out of sight and everything! I figured no one would recognize me if I was quick about getting home so I took off but then…”

Lena looks at her expectantly, every bit the generous friend trying to keep her laughter trapped behind her pursed lips.

“Flying felt so good.” Kara admits, contrite. “I’m always wearing that gosh-darned suit with the long sleeves and the tights and just—the warm air felt so nice on my skin. Like the night sky was hugging me hello.”

She’s pouting up a storm now. “I really didn’t expect it. And, well, I guess I was just having a really nice time and my flight home accidentally turned into….” She gestures half-heartedly to the TV. “That.”

“Oh honey.” Lena extends one arm and Kara doesn’t hesitate to dive under it, hiding her face in the comfort of Lena’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright. It’s just a minor PR snafu. You didn’t do anything wrong.

“Alex is gonna be so mad,” Kara grouses, burrowing towards the enticingly familiar scent emanating from Lena’s skin, just a few inches away.

“Perhaps,” Lena allows, rubbing up and down Kara’s arm. It helps soothe the panic that comes with the knowledge of her elder sister’s impending fury. “But you didn’t hurt anyone. And the risk to your identity seems exceedingly low. Who else knows what I gave you for Secret Santa last year?”

Kara thinks back to the holiday, to the warm glow in her apartment and the people she loves gathered to share smiles and stories and gifts. “Just the people that were there that day,” she answers. “Alex, my mom, James, and Winn. And you.”

The memory of Lena glowing alongside her family makes Kara hum happily and nuzzle a little closer. Lena’s arm tightens around Kara’s shoulders.

“And is there any risk of them putting the pieces together from this video?”

“Well, that’s not really a problem,” Kara sighs. “My family has always known. James knew before I even met him because he’s friends with Superman. And Winn is the only other person I’ve ever told.”

She freezes, nervous that the reminder of being kept in the dark might cause Lena to put some distance between them. It’s the last thing Kara wants, to hurt her best friend. Besides, she’d quite like to stay right where she is, a scant inch away from the soft skin of Lena’s collarbone.

“There you have it,” Lena soothes, mercifully unfazed by the news of others that knew before her. “This hiccup should wash away with the next news cycle.” Lena pauses, tenses a bit. “Unless…”

Kara wriggles, prompting her to continue. “Unless what?”

“Have you…” the CEO clears her throat and from this distance Kara can hear her swallow uncomfortably. “Have you shown anyone else?”

“Shown anyone what?”

“This, uh, particular outfit of yours?”

“Pshh, no.” Kara scoffs and shakes her head. The movement brings the cold tip of her nose into contact with the heavenly warmth of Lena’s skin. Kara attributes the slight shiver that runs through her friend’s body to the shock of temperature difference. “Why would I show anyone my underwear?”

When Lena grimaces, the muscles in her neck tighten and Kara instinctively tucks her head closer to smooth the tension away.

“Well,” Lena begins, sounding a bit strangled. Her voice is lower, somewhat shy, and Kara is distracted by the way it vibrates against her forehead when Lena speaks. “If you… perhaps… brought someone home with you.”

“When I invite guests over I don’t include my underwear drawer in the tour of the apartment, Lena. That’s silly.”

“No—that’s not what I—hmph.” Exasperated, Lena finally makes herself clear. “I’m asking if you’ve slept with anyone, Kara.”

The superhero jolts upright, squeaking in surprise. “What?”

Lena clenches her jaw and releases it, taking a fortifying breath. “Have you been intimate with anyone recently that might’ve seen this set of underwear?” Kara gapes like a fish out of water and Lena rolls her eyes as she spells it out, seeming oddly pained. “Could they possibly make the connection between Supergirl’s appearance tonight and your identity as Kara Danvers?”

“Oh,” Kara breathes, struggling to sit still under Lena’s scrutiny. She peels at the fraying edges of her throw pillow. “Um. No.”

“Okay.” It may be Kara’s imagination, but it almost looks like Lena heaves a sigh of relief. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I…” the corner of her mouth twitches. “There hasn’t been anyone. Not since Mon-El.”

Kara considers the nights she’s spent with people she loves instead, the extra time that not having a love interest has afforded her with Lena and feels quite at peace with this reality. She smiles. “So I guess we’re safe on that front.”

Lena smiles back, closed-mouthed but still dimpled, and Kara feels like a lava cake again.

“See? You have nothing to worry about,” the CEO assures.

“Except—can anyone trace the purchase back to you?” Kara asks suddenly. “You said it was a custom order, won’t… won’t people think that you’re Supergirl?!”

Lena bursts into laughter at the suggestion. She howls for seconds while Kara dissolves into a panic at the idea of people going after Lena, mistaking her for the drunk Kryptonian.

“Lena, this is serious,” Kara admonishes. Lena just keeps on laughing. “You could be seriously targeted! I need—I need to protect you. Someone could try to hurt you if they thought…” her wild ideas get the best of her, spiraling out of control at the mere suggestion of increased attempts on Lena’s life.

Kara spaces out, flicking rapidly from scenario to scenario about how best to protect her best friend from this type of exposure. Maybe Lena should move in with her, so Kara can keep her safe all the time. If they share a bed, Kara will know she’s protected even while unconscious. Lena maintains an office at Catco, so the workday is covered. What about bathroom breaks, would those be—

A warm palm smooths over Kara’s forearm and squeezes until her tailspin slows to a halt. “Kara, darling. Come back.”

Kara blinks forcefully once, twice, three times, and then she’s planted firmly in her living room, staring once more at the overwhelming wealth of fondness in light green eyes. Those eyes crinkle around a smile as soon as Kara fully returns to her surroundings.

“You needn’t worry about me,” Lena assures slowly. Kara wrinkles her brow and Lena explains. “I went to a store in person to place the order and made my purchases with cash. The payment isn’t traceable to my name and no one recognized me, I’m certain of it.”

Face pinched into a frown, Kara shakes her head. “Are you sure? I won’t take that risk with you, Lena.”

“I’m sure,” the CEO smiles again and it’s nearly dazzling enough to distract Kara from her panic-fueled worry storm. “I appreciate the concern, but I doubt anyone would believe that a Luthor even knows what a baseball cap is, let alone wears one.” Lena tilts her head thoughtfully. “For that matter, I doubt anyone would believe that a Luthor could secretly be Kryptonian, all things considered.”

Kara scowls at the indirect mention of Lex, but considers Lena’s logic. She’s right in the end—short of a credit card receipt with Lena’s name on it or video footage showing her obtaining the exact same garments Supergirl is wearing, it’d be nigh impossible to make the connection.

“Okay,” she finally relents. “Okay. So now all I have to worry about is Alex’s wrath.”

The thought brings another grimace to her face and she buries it into her throw pillow. Alex is going to be so mad.

“I think Alex will be fine once we talk it through with her,” Lena offers. The ‘we’ wraps around Kara like a blanket before Lena’s arms encircle her with a comfort that Kara’s powerless to resist. She drops the pillow in favor of scooting back into her previous position, nestled into the juncture of Lena’s neck and shoulder.

They sit in silence for a few minutes as Kara recovers from her shame. The lateness of the hour and the steady drum of Lena’s heart lull Kara into a dreamy, half-conscious state and before she’s fully aware of herself she asks, “Lena?”

“Hm?”

The low hum of Lena’s voice in the apartment shrouds Kara in calm and she instinctively adjusts so she can press her nose and mouth the source of that heavenly vibration. Lena gulps and Kara is too sleepy to think anything of it.

“You aren’t mad?”

“Mad?” Lena repeats. “Why?”

“You’re not mad that I didn’t tell you my secret?”

“No, darling, I’m not mad,” Lena mutters softly and places a gentle hand on the side of Kara’s head. “It’s your secret to tell. What matters to me is that you’re safe. That’s all.”

The Kryptonian smiles and snuggles close. “Well, I’m really glad that you know now. And that you still like me. There’s so much I wanna tell you.” She pouts. “No more secrets for us.”

“Of course I still like you.” Then, most miraculous of all, Lena drops a soft kiss to Kara’s forehead. “You’re lovely, Kara. Being Supergirl doesn’t change that.”

Kara hums contentedly and drowsily returns the kiss wherever she can reach. Which happens to be the exposed jut of Lena’s collarbone. She notices a shift immediately—Lena’s muscles sing with tautness and her heart rate skyrockets.

“Lena?”

“Mm?” Her response is slightly high-pitched this time, even if the rumble of it still rolls through Kara like thunder.

“Why is your heartbeat so fast?”

“What—how can you even—oh. Superhearing. Of course.”

“Mhm,” Kara smiles, wondering languidly if Lena can feel her grin even if she can’t see it, ‘cause of the way Kara’s mouth is smooshed against her neck. Lena smells really, really good.

“You smell really, really good.” Again, Lena’s heartbeat ratchets up a notch. Kara frowns.

“Lena, you need to calm down.” Kara speaks right up against the source of the hammering in her ears, feeling the corresponding pulse pound on her lips. “‘S very loud. That can’t be good for you.”

“I’m fine, Kara,” Lena squeaks. Kara has her doubts but forgets them immediately when Lena says, “Besides, I’m with Supergirl. I’m as safe as can be.”

“That’s right.” Kara grins then places another sleepy kiss directly over that drumbeat, aiming to soothe it. “Shhh, i zhao,” Kara murmurs at Lena’s pulse point. “Settle down. You’re safe. It’s sleep time now.”

The next thing she hears after a hitch in Lena’s breath is the rich sound of Lena’s chuckle. “Did you just speak Kryptonian to my heartbeat, Kara?”

“Mm, yeah.” She’s beyond sleepy, half her cognizance has already yielded to unconsciousness. “I can never sleep when it’s loud like that.”

“What do you mean never?”

“I always check on you, Lena,” Kara nuzzles. “If your heartbeat’s too loud, I get worried.”

“You… you listen for me?”

Kara frowns again. Somehow this is only making things louder. Won’t stop her from telling the truth though.

“‘Course I listen. You’re my person,” she declares with a huff and drapes an arm over Lena’s midriff. “I dunno what’s bothering you right now though. You said it yourself, you’re safe with me.”

Lena sucks in a breath and holds it. Kara knows because she can feel the rise of Lena’s chest under her cheek and the way Lena’s throat works beneath her mouth. Kara noses against her neck, willing Lena to keep breathing and relax. Eventually she does.

Lena’s sigh comes out slow and measured and finally, her heartbeat begins to slow. She leans her head overtop of Kara’s. “I suppose that’s true.”

“Mhm,” Kara agrees. “Quiet now though, ‘s time for bed.” Lena nods above her and Kara doesn’t even deign to consider that they’re both still half upright on the couch. She does, however, remember a passing comment from earlier in the night.

“Lena?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you tell me your secret, too?”

In the ensuing pause, Kara hears the slowing beat do a stutter step in Lena’s chest. She nuzzles into it and Lena sighs once more.

Then Kara feels the warmth of lips pressed to her temple and suddenly her own heart is mirroring the pattern of Lena’s, clamoring for more of that soft sweetness against her skin.

“I think you might already know,” Lena whispers into her hair.

With the scent of Lena in her lungs and the softness of her friend in her arms and around her, Kara thinks she does, too.

(Morning finds them in the same position hours later, curled against one another on the couch. Necks stiff and backs crooked, they startle awake to a pounding on the door and an unmistakably familiar grumbling on the other side.

“Kara, you’d better be in there! What the fuck happened last night?!”)

#silly little ficlet #crack fic #i am not planning on doing the full month #i just found this in my drafts and it had the prompt so here we are #take all the potential angst and pretend it doesn’t exist #supercorp #supercorptober2023 #ficlet

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s-uwu-binie · 1 year

Text

↳ ❝ [unfiltered fondness]! ❞

➻ txt x gn!reader

➻ nothing but fluff ^^

⤷ nothing could really hide away the oh so obvious liking of these lovesick boys for you.

𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗶 𝘆𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗷𝘂𝗻

choi yeonjun. a name that rings familiarity in so many people’s ears. a name that brings desire amongst people. a name that you’re lucky to call yours. well, at least that’s what you think, which is a resounding contrast to the envious glares you feel on your back. it doesn’t get easier when you hear their whispers.

as the night went on, the pressing weight on your back seemed to be getting to you as the silk that delicately draped on your body now felt suffocating more than ever.

“baby?” a hand that felt too familiar settled its warmth on the small of your back, tracing patterns on the fabric wrapped on your skin. as much as the touch brought extreme comfort to you, you can’t seem to find the words to speak out the thoughts that rang like an endless mantra in your head.

receiving no response from your end, yeonjun took it in his own hands, gently tugging you along as he led you two to the balcony. and once seeing the space empty, yeonjun immediately jumped on the opportunity to talk. “talk to me, y/n.” he asked, taking a step closer to you. “please?”

hearing the distinct crack in his voice at your lack of response prompted you to look at him for what it seemed like the first time this night. and as your eyes met with his, you can almost immediately recognize the shine in them, staring at you as if you hung the stars in the night sky, and yeonjun would’ve believed that if it was up to him. you’re literally the prettiest human being he laid eyes on.

it's only such a shame that others don't share the same sentiment. he would've thrown hands, honestly speaking.

you sighed, seeing that he won’t budge from his lovestruck stare any time soon. “just... why me, jun?” you love him, you really do. how can you not when he is the embodiment of perfection. but it just doesn't make sense.

your eyes stared up into his once again, challenging him as you waited for an answer. an answer you hope would be the end of it all. however, the reply you got wasn’t all what you were expecting.

“why?” he paused, letting out a deep chuckle that nearly sent your heart soaring if it were not to your current concern. “i love you. that’s why.”

“no. no, that doesn't make sense.” you gestured to the both of you, “we don’t make any sense, jun.”

heaving a sigh, yeonjun took another step, bridging the gap. “i don’t need to have a reason why i feel the way i feel. i just do.”

almost not believing your ears, you were ready to retort if it weren’t for your boyfriend’s interruption. “i honestly don’t care about what they say or think. i’m the one dating you, not them.”

aand to emphasize his point, yeonjun takes one final step to you. one final step to touch your aching heart. “yeonjun-”

not wanting to hear anymore of your doubts, he seals the promise between the both of you. cutting you off this time with a sudden pull at your waist and a soft kiss on your lips, ultimately clearing away all previous doubts and what ifs.

“i don’t care how complicated this gets, i still want you.”

𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗶 𝘀𝗼𝗼𝗯𝗶𝗻

you were starting to feel sorry.

it wasn’t like this in the beginning. it was all about taking spontaneous walks in the nearby park, touring in museums, eating out in multiple food stalls around the city, splurging in convenience stores, and so many more that you can’t even count.

and now, it’s all about sleeping in an empty bed, waking up earlier than the other then returning to the shared apartment with the other already fast asleep, and cancelled dates.

rainchecks and cancellation of milestones were a normal occurrence now. but all you wanted to do was to cuddle into the safety of your blankets and sleep the whole day away with soobin. but of course, the timing was never right as you watched soobin pick up his coat, getting ready for another day at work. perhaps, you two needed to take a break somehow?

“someone’s got a staring problem this morning, huh?” soobin teased, looking over his shoulder. chuckling, you throw a pillow, hitting him straight on the face. “no i don’t.”

soobin let out a scoff as he waddled over to your form on the sofa. “you look troubled lately, bubs,” he said while reaching for your hand before he started playing with your fingers, fiddling with them as he stared up at you from his kneeled position.

“just thinking about something…”

“ahh, that’s never good.”

you jokingly slapped his arm, shushing him from teasing you even more. “as i was saying,” giving him a pointed look. “maybe we need to…”

you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. it simply felt wrong in your mind, it nearly made you sick to your stomach.

wordlessly, soobin gazed upon you as you struggled to find the right words to say, but soobin already knew what you wanted to convey. he just didn’t want it to be true. “let’s not, please.”

as you breathed in, you shook your head and gripped his hand. If there had been an easier way to talk it out, you would’ve already done it. but the lump in your throat and the tears in the corners of your eyes made it so difficult to breathe. “i’m afraid that-”

“that i’d leave just because we’re busy? that i’d drift away from you because of my tight schedules?” soobin rambled on as he got closer to you, but not completely standing up from his seated position. “you know i wouldn’t do that to you, y/n.”

with his hand gripped firmly in yours, the other one reaches out to caress your cheek. and out of habit, you leaned in to his warm touch, “i know, but what if something happens. what if we grow further apart, bin.”

“oh, bubs.” he grinned at you from ear to ear, as if you weren’t the messiest you’ve ever been with your teary eyes and runny nose. “you can trust that i’ll stay forever.”

and despite the heart-wrenching meaning behind his words, you can’t possibly ignore the flutter it brought to your heart. “when did you get so cheesy?” you land a light-hearted jab on his shoulder, which earned you his laughs and cheeky smile, occupying the quiet apartment with his honey-like melodies.

as his laughter and your hiccups died down, the question in your mind still lingered in the air like smoke. “forever?”

“yep.” soobin replied with a playful hum, now deciding to lean even closer to you, so close that you can feel his heartbeat from the way your palm rests on his chest. he looked down at your hand on his chest, beaming at the sight before locking eyes with you, gaze softening. “here…”

he gave you one more look, taking a good amount of time to admire every bit of you. “...with you.”

𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗶 𝗯𝗲𝗼𝗺𝗴𝘆𝘂

words can’t describe the tiredness that seeped through your bones as of this moment, and it was taking a drastic toll on your body. as much as you wanted to stop everything you’re doing, you can’t. you needed to get this done for tomorrow morning, well more like later.

sneaking a glance at the wall clock adjacent to where you were sitting only further confirmed your suspicion.

3:53 am

well, so much for getting it done in the morning. you sighed, completely exhausted. and for a few more seconds the only sounds that filled the living room was the ticking of the clock, reminding you that you should be typing away at your laptop, and not leaning back on the cushions behind you as if you didn’t have a tight deadline in four hours.

“what do you think you’re doing?” your ever loving boyfriend stood in front of you, hands firmly placed on his hips, looking eerily similar to how your mom used to scold you back home.

you flinched at the sudden interruption of silence. “gyu, i thought you were asleep.” you put the laptop aside on the space beside, taking a good look at beomgyu’s unamused expression.

“i didn’t feel you beside me when i was sleeping.” he pouted, “you left me all alone, baby.”

right, ever the most dramatic too as he lunged himself at you, almost knocking your laptop off the couch. all you could do was reach over and hope that your laptop wasn’t snapped in half. “you’re such a mess, gyu.”

the only reply you got from the man was an utter look of disbelief and a whine you’re so familiar with. “so are you.”

“touché.”

“so, what’s going on with you?” beomgyu turned to you, making himself comfortable as he buries his face in your neck. “is something bothering you? is that why you can’t sleep?”

“nope, i’m just busy.” you were a lot of things, yes. but you weren’t exactly a good liar, and beomgyu knew that.

“tsk, look at you lying to me.” his voice sent vibrations from your neck down to your spine as he spoke softly, tone contrasting from the clear teasing from his words. “since when were you this shameless, babe?”

a sigh left your lips, deciding to come clean to him about it. “fine. i’m exhausted.” it was all becoming way too much. you could only take too much before you start to buckle under the immense work and pressure you’re harbouring on your shoulders. “i want to sleep, but i know i can’t. i still have a lot of work to do.”

“why didn’t you tell me this sooner.” beomgyu peeked from your neck, “and don’t you say it’s because you didn’t want to bother me.”

“took the words right out my mouth there.” you chuckled, now feeling more worn-out than ever. it also didn’t help that beomgyu started to comb your hair, slowly playing with your locks and massaging your scalp.

beomgyu didn’t reply after that, only silently threading his fingers through your hair once he took note of your change of breathing. once he made sure you were knocked out, he carefully slipped away from your arms, gently laying you down on the couch.

“you’re so mean, you know that?” he glanced at your sleeping form. his eyes trailed from your furrowed brows, which he smoothed out with his thumb. beomgyu also noticed the clear signs of insomnia on your face, shaking his head in disappointment as he saw the dark circles under your eyes.

“don’t leave me out of your struggles, share it with me.” beomgyu wasted no time in opening your laptop, and started typing away with you snoring peacefully in the background.

imagine your surprise when you woke up in the afternoon with your document already sent with beomgyu clinging to your waist, head buried in your chest.

𝗸𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗮𝗲𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻

the door slammed shut, footsteps soon following it. it wasn’t long after when the sound of plastic hitting the table.

“you wreck me, love.” taehyun blurted out, lowering himself down to sit on the opposite of you from the coffee table. he says it like you had an idea of what he was referring to, he even got his arms crossed, staring you down.

wow, okay. that came out of nowhere.

“i think i should be the one asking that question.” he sighed, nodding at your scribbled notes. “you eaten yet?”

as opposed to replying, you continued to take notes, keeping your eyes on the page while trying to ignore his stare. and for a couple of seconds, the only noise that filled the room was your pen scratching against the paper and your steady breathing.

“yeah, that’s what i thought.” taehyun brought out another plastic bag, taking out its contents. you soon later recognize the familiar packaging from your favourite fast-food place.

“eat up, sugar.” taehyun slid the take-out container to you. “i’m not that hungry, tyun.” you said without looking up from what you were doing.

truth was, you haven’t eaten yet. you didn’t have the time to really prepare or order yourself anything the whole day. but as stubborn as you are, it’s getting rather difficult to suppress the urge to grab the food that taehyun’s tempting you with. but nope, you figured you should be finished with your work first, a habit that taehyun absolutely hated with his entire being.

“you love me right?” he asked, opening up another container for himself, taking a big bite, chopsticks already grabbing another piece, offering it to you.

“of course i do.”

he set his chopsticks down, propping his arms up on the table. “do you love me?” he repeated.

“yes, tyun. i love you.” you exclaimed, finally setting your pen down, giving him your undivided attention for the time being.

taehyun hummed in response, satisfied with your answer. “is that so?”

you nodded enthusiastically.

“if you really love me then prove it.” he nudged the styrofoam filled to the brim with your favorite appetizer. you gotta admit, he honestly came prepared for this, he’s got all your go-to appetizers up to your ideal dessert. just as expected, he never misses a single detail. “just one bite at least.”

you groaned, giving in to your hunger, hands reaching out to taehyun’s outstretched one, “fine.”

“now, give me that.” he demanded, wasting no time in snatching your pen and notebook as taehyun began jotting down your notes for you, letting your body rest for a while as he contently fed you with his other hand, knowing that you can’t really digest the thought of leaving him hanging.

“i love you more, by the way.” his sharp eyes glanced at you for a moment, a smile tugged on his lips while he said this.

“i love you mo-” as you struggle to speak, he shoves another mouthful of food into your mouth to shut you up. “talk me to me when you’re full. i can’t bear seeing you like this.”

𝗵𝘂𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗸𝗮𝗶

“here,” kai handed you the tissue box, watching you sniffle and blow your nose in amusement. “it’s not that deep, sunshine.”

you shot him a look of disbelief, brows furrowed and lips curled into a scowl. “how could you say that, hyuka?” you point to the disney movie playing, “that right there should be hitting you in the feels.”

all you got was a series of his hyena laughter, even throwing his head back, coughing by the end of it.

you scoffed, “serves you right.” your words contradicting your actions as you urge him to drink from his bottle of water, patting his back while you’re at it.

once his coughing fit died down, transitioning to small wheezes here and there, he turned to you again, pushing the box of tissues towards you, even taking it upon himself to wipe away your tears.

“you know…” kai leaned on your shoulder, staring at you through his thick lashes. “i think i really like it when you cry.”

you pulled away from him, which led to his head falling off your shoulder, landing on your stomach. “excuse me?” you asked, eyes scanning him top to bottom to check if something’s up or if this is another form of his nonstop teasing.

kai hurriedly put his hands up, waving them around in a panic. you narrowed your eyes on him. “wait!”

“before you chastise me.” he paused, “don’t get me wrong. i meant it as a way that i admire that you stay true to your emotions.”

you stayed silent, prompting kai to continue. “i just think it’s nice, you know?” he went on to say, taking in the oozing curiosity in your orbs. “i already love you so much, and i still find so many reasons why i love you already,” he stopped to meet your eyes, sparkling with adoration, he then hid his face in your shirt, voice muffled as he said bashfully, “...if that makes sense.”

your vision blurred once more as you took in the meaning of his words. you didn’t know how you got so lucky to score a guy like kai, to have the opportunity to love such a kind soul as his. he only proves to you everyday how much you mean to him in the best of ways, and somehow, this fact only brings a new set of tears to your already swollen eyes.

“ahh, i’m crying again.” your hands rubbed your puffy eyes, though gently this time when you started to feel the sting around the area. “ayy, stop rubbing it. it’ll hurt more.” kai’s warm hands wrapped around yours, lightly pulling them away from your constant smearing.

his left hand intertwined with yours, an action that doesn’t miss to make your heart skip a beat. he does this while the other snatched a tissue to pat on your tear-stained cheeks, “my crybaby.” he chuckled even more when you started bothering him to watch the movie after hearing you murmur something under your breath. but of course, it wouldn’t be hueningkai without the constant bickering.

kai titled his head at you, eyes never leaving yours. “i think you got it wrong, bub.” he beamed at you, like sunshine, “i’m the lucky one here.”

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matan4il · 1 month

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911 ep 701 first watch reactions

(I don't think I have the energy to write proper Buddie meta, so here's me randomly squealing instead...)

LMAO In case you were wondering whether s7 of 911 will be subtle about their gratitude/debt to ABC for saving the show, the answer is a resounding no.

Also, I have lost a lot of respect for Frank as a shrink, but gained a lot of love for him as a sass king. "Did she win!?" The murderous look Athena gave him was priceless. I love her, too. She doesn't even need words to rule.

Man, nooooo. Don't give me a mutual "I love you" between Bobby and Athena like that.

"Go ahead and cut the green wire." Everyone and their sister: "Green? You said Red."

9-1-1 is the superior comedy they slipped into our drink, while we were here for our weekly action, suspense, drama and familial love.

Buck broke off with Natalia, and the show really did it like that. XD Every single person who rolled their eyes at this pairing during s6, we were all justified, but wow. The show really is the only forum to respect the pair even less than fandom does. And of course we find out about it in the middle of a scene built around Eddie being half naked, Buck watching him, with the camera specifically turning so we can discover Buck was initially covered by Eddie's body, and the angle change reveals him, when the whole thing wraps up with Eddie welcoming Buck back to the land of the living... Yeah, wonder what made Buck feel alive again. Don't know. 'Tis a mystery. We were given zero clues...

"I want the honeymoon life." *cries* Chimney is just such a good, good man. And okay, expecting your whole life to be a honeymoon's a bit unrealistic, but Madney are living together and they have a child. They know this. Chim knows this, but he still wants to go for it. Aim for the moon, you'll at least land among the stars, right?

Bobby baffled by Athena's reaction to Norman and Lola is hilarious.

I like how Chim has a great idea, but it's still obvious that it's gonna go wrong, because he can't help going overboard with it...

OMG, that scene with Eddie recounting to Buck what Christopher's date was like... If I were to write my Buddie meta, I would serve a three course meal just from that. I mean, the fact that watching Chris hanging out with a girl he likes, makes Eddie compare it to "hanging out with his guy friends" (when there's no lack of interest in this girl... in fact, it turns out that if anything, Christopher's problem is the opposite of a lack of interest) is so telling. There's a reason why that's where Eddie's mind went.

But then also... Eddie's trust in Buck got to me, the way he went to his best friend (not his own gf) for help with Chris. But that was still played with half a smile. But then Buck sort of disses himself jokingly, and Eddie won't have it. "You didn't end up like you." He sees how Buck worked on being a better person, even when Eddie wasn't there for the worst of it, and he appreciates it, and won't let Buck forget it. Meeeep. I love them.

Oh Chim. I was giving you so much credit, and then you went and bought that outdoors jacuzzi. lol Still love him. That's what Maddie's reminding herself of right now, too. ;p

Poor Hen, she was great in this ep, but none of it was really about her, she was comic relief, both with Chim and with the red wire. Then again, she was amazing in this, like she always is with everything.

Eddie and Buck were both so good with Chris this ep, MY HEART. Buck with getting him to talk about what's really bothering him, and Eddie with realizing exactly what his son needs, and how to give it to him. They completed each other. Neither one would be helping Chris without the other one. Tell me again how they're not soulmates?

In conclusion, I love Bobby saying, "Let's go prove one of us wrong," when they're both right. Something WAS going on with Norman and Lola, AND Athena was using them to avoid him.

Argh. That scene of the ship and its passengers being hijacked was rough to watch. </3 I'll still be here to watch the conclusion of this. That's the power of 9-1-1 for you.

It def felt like a great kick to the new season. We had lots of comedy and fun, some great tension, some emotional moments (especially with Christopher), but all in all, it's still clear that the whole thing's a build up to next week. Are you excited?

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cloverstayy · 3 months

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𝚆𝙾𝙻𝙵𝙸𝚂𝙷 ⇢ 𝗕𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡&𝘺/𝘯

First off, thank you so much Anon for suggesting this absolutely adorable idea! And if you've got an endless supply of them, go ahead and send 'em my way! I'll make a list.

That being said, I honestly had a lot of fun making this one. I have an 8-year-old little boy, so I kind of got to relive that time during my pregnancy. I hope I did your suggestion justice and you enjoy it! If you read this, thank you. Please reblog to share as it honestly makes me insanely happy when others can enjoy my work!

STORY RATING E for everyone.

TYPE husband!chan and wife!y/n, slice of life

CONTENT WARNING Brief use of explicit language at the end, otherwise absolutely NOTHING besides a ton of fluff!

W/C 2,160

“Oh my fucking god,” I groaned, the sudden mention of a food I’d been craving almost daily suddenly evoked the undeniable necessity for said the item. Immediately, “That sounds absolutely fucking delicious, baby."

“Y/n?”

My attention bounced from the phone in my hands over to the nurse straddling the doorway directly between the main waiting area and exam rooms. She clutched a clipboard close to her chest as her eyes leveled with my own, a soft smile blooming across her face in greeting.

“Chris, babe, c’mon. That’s us.”

My fingertips grazed his bicep, having quickly traveled down to his forearm to deliver a placid squeeze.

Chris’ eyes sought mine as an shallow hum resounded from his chest; the palm of his hand asserted the gentlest of guiding pressures against my lower back as we both made our way to the waiting nurse.

———

“Alright, Y/n. I’ll have you hop up here,” The nurse gestured with a nod in the direction of the the exam chair. “How’s your first trimester been so far?”

I padded towards said chair, positioning my body so my behind was pressed flush against the chair’s edge. I planted a palm on either side of my hips and hoisted myself up the rest of the way, “Ah, well, y’know…its been an experience, I’ll say that much.”

A seasoned hum bristled from the nurse, who had already started to prepare the sonographer’s machine. The quiet click, click, clack of the mechanical keyboard filled the room as she navigated through several menus before locating the correct patient file.

“This is your first, right?” Her head moved to make eye contact, however her body maintained it’s station as her hands continued to fly across the keys.

The nurse paused, her focus dialed into me as I acknowledged with an affirmative hum.

Her head returned to it’s previous position as she flipped through several more menus, logging updated numbers for my vitals, “Well, I’d say calling it an experience is quite accurate! You both excited to find out the gender?”

Noticing Chris had become distracted on his phone, presumably answering something important, I gently nudged his elbow with my foot to capture his attention.

His eyes flitted upwards, darting between the nurse and myself as a sheepish smile painted his features. Chris readjusted in the chair directly adjacent to the exam chair, sliding his phone into his back pocket before responding, “I have been counting down the days. Between myself, Y/n and my bandmates, its an even split.”

Having completed the prep work for the sonographer, the nurse swiveled on her heels as she faced the both of us, “Well, good thing you there is a 50/50 chance someone is right. Though, I’ve gotta know, what are mom and dad hoping for?”

Sharing the same braincell and without missing a beat, Chris and I responded in tandem, “Girl.”

———

“Alright, Y/n, I’m going to take a view measurements and make sure everything is growing the way its supposed to and that everything is in its correct place. So I may get quiet for a moment, but after I’m done, the we will do the exciting part, yeah?” The sonographer clarified as she pulled a pair of latex gloves from an overhead cubby near the machine’s monitor.

Drawing in a gulp of air, I signaled my understanding with a brief nod of my head, “Take all the time you need! Baby’s health is way more important, of course.”

She flashed me a brief smile before she spun her chair back into position to face the sonogram’s display, promptly sliding her finger over the probe’s ON/OFF switch to the on position. As she held the probe in one hand, she grabbed hold of the conduction gel and tilted it upside down before giving it a few solid shakes to shift the settled gel to the open end.

“This might be cold, I’m sorry!”

Her fingers gingerly squeezed the bottle as it dispersed in a little blob near my belly button. She oriented the bottle upright and returned it back to the slot in the sonogram machine, she then touched the probe to my tummy. The probe passed over my skin from belly button to slightly below the top of my underwear before the clicks of the keyboard indicated the input of data.

Approximately 10 minutes passed, the whirring of the machine kicking up a notch anytime the sonographer captured a particular angle to get a better measurement, before she turned to face Chris and I.

“Well, good news is Baby Bahng is growing right along schedule and looks absolutely perfect. Baby's length is around the 75th percentile for gestation, but I’m not too entirely worried about that as getting super accurate measurements when they’re still this little is a bit harder, especially length. Are there any questions you have about this part?”

“Chris?” I broke eye contact with her to make my own with his, whose eyes were transfixed on the sonogram display during the duration of the sonographer’s exam, “If he doesn’t, I don’t.”

“As long as my little pumpkin is happy and healthy, I don’t have any questions.” His eyes connected with the sonographer’s as they upturned in pure pride.

She met his response with a perfunctory nod, “Alright. Let’s see if we’ve got a girl or a boy, shall we?”

“Absolutely.” Chris’s reaffixed his gaze to the monitor, his words near imperceptible, but laced with such anticipation awaiting the sonographer’s findings.

I sensed the sudden warmth of Chris’ palm, pressed firmly right above my kneecap, as his fingers compressed into the sides of my leg in a secure grasp. I untucked the hand nearest Chris, my fingertips finding the security of his free hand. Without so much as a twitch, our hands interlaced and fingers slotted together.

“Alright, let me zoom in just a bit here…” She paused, leaning towards the monitor to get a better view before clicking the mouse to magnify a bit closer, “Yep. Thought so. Congratulations to the both of you! You will be welcoming Baby Girl Bahng…in give or take about 6 months. Let me get some pictures printed for you both.”

She lifted the probe from my growing bump, wiping and sanitizing clean the probe’s transducer before slotting it back into it’s holder. While she took a moment to toss her gloves in the bin directly under the sonogram desk, she handed me a cloth to wipe up any remaining gel she missed during clean up. Her chair softly creaked as she swiftly returned to her chair and begin printing sonogram photos for Chris and I.

Upon hearing the words Baby Girl Bahng, Chris and I made eye contact. And so much was said without saying anything at all.

“A girl…” I breathed, the grip with Chris’ hand only strengthening.

“A girl.” He spoke so resolutely, and rightfully so. But it was in more ways than just having been told so. From the moment I had told him I was pregnant, he emanated this entirely new type of confidence in virtually everything from handling the ebb and flow of my emotions to the rather normal or insanely bizarre nature of my cravings. And never, not once, did he question his ability in becoming a father.

But in this moment, it was like that confidence only amplified upon itself—wholly unwavering in any capacity whatsoever after hearing the news that we were going to be having a girl. It was in moments like these I was reminded that falling in love with him was quite possibly one of the easiest things I’d ever done.

———

“Lemme get the door for you, baby.” Chris’ feet shuffled towards the car door, his hand gripped the underside of the handle as he pulled upwards so he could usher me inside.

As I situated myself in the passenger seat, I wrestled the seatbelt from behind my shoulder and adjusted the lap portion under my bump. Chris’ door opened and he begun to settle into the driver’s side just as I clicked the belt into place.

“I already know the answer to this question, but I’m going to ask it anyways,” Chris slotted the key into the ignition as he placed his hand on the gear shift, throwing it into reverse before resuming his query, “How does a strawberry cheesecake concrete sound right about now?”

“Oh my fucking god,” I groaned, the sudden mention of a food I’d been craving almost daily suddenly evoked the undeniable necessity for said item. Immediately, “That sounds absolutely fucking delicious, baby. Can we snag some salt and vinegar chips, too?”

Chris guffawed at the request, already knowing that any answer other than yes would be the wrong one, “Of course, baby girl, we can definitely do that. Y’know, I was talking with Jihyo the other day. The topic of your cravings came up.”

“Oh? Tell me more.”

“Well, the ice cream and chips weren’t anything out of the ordinary to her at all. Those are rather timid in comparison,” Chris shifted his focus to me briefly, flashing one of his perspicacious glances in my direction, “It was the…weird and absurd ones that she honestly got a kick out of.”

“Oh god, Chris. What did you tell her?” I whinged, bringing the palm of my head to my forehead in preemptive embarrassment.

“Remember that time you sent me out at like 2am because you demanded salt and vinegar chips?”

“Oh Jesus Christ, yes I do.”

That wasn’t the only thing I demanded, though.

“Yeah, but then you demanded marshmallows, chocolate and graham crackers because you absolutely required those items to make ‘salty s’mores’ and if you didn’t get those items, you were going to—and I quote—‘expire’.” Chris couldn’t help the goofy smile that surged across his face.

“Listen. Those were absolutely delicious and I’ll die on that hill.” I crossed my arms over one another as I feigned some kind of weak attempt at indignation.

“Hey! I never said they weren’t. I tried one, remember? I thought they were tasty.”

“I forgot I made you try them, now that you mention it.” I let out a soft chuckle, “What else? I know that wasn’t the only one you mentioned.”

Another boisterous giggle filled the car, “Well, I definitely mentioned the very specific ice chips you like from your favorite restaurant and the spicy buldak ramen you’ve been eating almost every day. But I think the kimchi with any kind of sour candy you can manage to get your hands on or the recent habit of putting ketchup on quite literally anything is what managed to really baffle her.”

“You did not tell her about the kimchi and sour candy.” I winced, throwing my head back against the headrest.

“Oh hell yes I did. How could I leave that one out?” Chris’ voice dripped with a amusement, finding my reaction to be almost as funny as the craving itself.

“I cannot believe you,” I shook my head. “Hold on, what did you tell her I was putting ketchup on because I know how ridiculously you can exaggerate.”

“I left the obvious ones out, of course. That just seemed pointless. But, I told her about the scrambled eggs and macaroni and cheese,” Chris paused, his eyes taking in the lilt of my brows as he pulled into the parking lot of our favorite ice cream parlor. “But I might have mentioned you also like it on kimchi, dipping egg rolls in it…that fried rice Minho makes…I did mention tacos and sometimes, but not always, the buldak ramen. I think that was it.”

The expression that overtook my face was nothing short of deadpan, “I’m going to end you, Christopher.”

Once the car was in park, Chris erupted in laughter, “You’ll do no such thing. You love me.”

I rolled my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose between my pointer and index fingers, “Sleep with one eye open tonight.”

The laughs quickly progressed from general light-heartedness to Chris’ signature squeaking-laughs, only wavering in intensity as he continued to intake air.

“Stop laughing at me!” I shrieked, my hand unknowingly making contact with his shoulder.

“Oh baby girl,” his laughs halted as he took the hand I thumped him with in his, “Jihyo found it absolutely weird, yes, but also completely endearing. As do I. Endearing that is. You’re growing a whole damn human. You have every right in the world to eat the most eccentric food combinations you want and do so as you damn well please. And I will procure those concoctions whenever you ask.”

Once again, despite feeling a wee bit ridiculed for my rather odd pregnancy cravings and the subsequent winding up I received for it, Chris always had this proclivity for knowing just what to say when he could sense even an inkling that I might become upset. This sense only seemed to intensify since becoming pregnant. Add yet another reason why choosing to love him was the most effortless commitment I could’ve made.

“C’mon. Lets get inside and order you that ice cream, yeah?”

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mapileonxputellas · 11 months

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Pride and Joy (Mapi Leon x Reader)

Ok I just had to write something for this! Only small but I've hopefully got an Aitana or Alexia fic coming up next. 1.5k words x

It had been branded around in the media so many times over the past few years, you get asked the question all the time in press conferences and journalists all over the world have their opinion on it.

Does winning get boring? Does lifting trophies ever lose its appeal?

The answer, for you at least, was a resounding no.

Every year the league and the whole of Europe strengthened and every year you felt prouder and prouder of the team. As vice-captain to Alexia you had spent most of the year as captain as well as being the main striker and this season you definitely felt the most pressure on you.

At 2-0 down you never lost hope, you’d been a part of the team last year and you were determined to not let it be the same this year.

Alexia was one of your best friends and you liked to think the two of you worked well as a captaincy team, she was the bad (though not very bad) cop to your good cop. You went around all the players giving them a little pep talk before Bruna and Vicky bombarded you up in their own hug.

“Keep going Y/N. It’ll come.” Though no-one wanted to admit it, you all had favourites on the team and you had taken both Vicky and Bruna in as your little sisters.

Patri was probably your best friend in the squad and you couldn’t have been more pleased to see her get the recognition she deserves with the two goals, when the first one went in so quickly after half time you knew you were going to go and win it. This team never gave up and just like that you were winning.

You couldn’t believe it when the ball came to you. It seemed to spend hours at Mariona’s feet, bouncing around the box before falling at your feet. You’d spent all year waiting for this moment, from the disappointment of the Euro’s to the injury struggles around the team and all them thoughts went into you thundering that ball so hard there was never any chance of it not ending up in the back of the net.

In the blink of an eye the net rippled and you had no thought but to run into the corner and celebrate with the fans. You tried to take in the moment, all your teammates around you as the fans went wild in the stands but all you could do is connect eyes with the woman you loved the most in the world and share a smile together, your pinkies interlocking in the midst of all the craziness.

Before taking your place in the other half you quickly made your way over to the bench, finding Bruna and Vicky on the bench and giving them both a hug. “Thanks girls.”

Added time seemed to go on forever, the seven minutes felt like seven hours but then the final whistle went and it was even better than you could ever remember.

What made the celebrations even more special was celebrating it with Mapi, your wife. Affection between the two of you on the pitch was very limited, you may have an arm around each other at the end of some matches but today it felt different. The two of you shared an embrace at full time and you couldn’t help but press a small kiss on her lips, wishing you could savour the smile on her face forever.

“You’re fucking incredible Maria.” You told your wife. “This is incredible.”

“Third best day of my life.”

“Te amo.” You whispered.

“Te amo.”

The two of you had got together shortly after she moved to Barcelona and this was your sixth season playing with her. A lot had changed in that time, you’d got married, shared countless moments together but the biggest change was stood in the stands watching as Alexia lifted the trophy once again and shared the trophy around.

“I’m going to go and get her.” You whispered to your wife, pressing a subtle kiss to her cheek before making your way to the side lines where your families were both stood. You gave both your mother’s a quick greeting before your father passed over your bundle joy, the one thing that got you through the countless hard moments in football.

“Mama, won.” Your daughter cheered in your arms. “Ma?”

“Let’s go and get her.”

Your daughter, though shielded from the media as much as possible, attended as many games as possible with either of your families. Elena was just over 2 years old and she’d changed your life in every way but it made moments like this even more special. She was a regular at training sessions and team outings so it was no surprise that when the rest of the team saw you walking over with Elena in your arms they all broke into cheers.

After having her moment with Mapi, which nearly brought you both to tears, Elena was passed around the team like a hot potato. Everyone wanting their moment with the team’s unofficial mascot.

You were soaking in the moment with Mapi when someone from the TV station approached you both. “Can we grab you both for an interview?”

It wasn’t unusual for you to give interviews together, though you were both focused on the football you had given the occasional interview on your life together and both heavily campaigned for women’s and LGBTQ+ rights. You both agreed and left Elena in the capable hands of Caro, who was keeping an eye on her as Claudia tried to persuade her to make angels in the confetti with her, before making your way over to the interviewer.

“Y/N and Mapi thank you for joining us, congratulations. What was the mood like at half time when you were 2-0 down?”

“I don’t think any one of us thought we couldn’t win it, we were getting the chances but just missing that final touch or pass. We showed that class in the second half and I think we more than deserved the win.” You explained. “This is such an amazing team and we know we can beat anyone, I’m just so lucky I get to call this people my teammates.”

“Mapi she’s taken the team option, tell us about your wife with that winning goal.”

“I’m the lucky one, I get to call this one not only my teammate but my wife.” Mapi always had a way with words and you couldn’t help but blush as she wrapped her arm around your waist. “All she needed was that one moment and I knew when it fell to her it would end up in the back of the net.”

“How does this compare to two years ago?”

“It’s very different.” You answered. “That was our first time winning it and getting over that hurdle but it feels so much more satisfying winning it in front of our amazing fans. We couldn’t do this without them and I’m glad we could provide them with the win and a bit of entertainment.”

“We had to show our desire today, I think everyone can see how much this means to us and how much we wanted it. Sometimes that makes it just the bit more satisfying.” Mapi explained.

You were about to get the final question when you felt hands tugging at your shorts and looked down to find Elena between you both. In some situations you may have wanted to shield her but you wanted to celebrate as a family and Mapi must have felt that too and she picked her up onto her hip as you assured Caro it was alright.

“Plus we now have this one to celebrate it with.” Mapi added.

“What is it like having your daughter in the stands watching?”

“Incredible, we do it all for her. We’re so lucky to have this team with us and they support us every single day. Yeah I just want to do her proud and I hope we’ve done that today.”

“Elena do you have any words to say?” The interviewer pointed the mic at your daughter who in her usual confident self almost fell out of Mapi’s hands trying to reach for it.

“Barca, Barca, Barca.” She chanted making all the production crew and yourselves burst out in laughter as she recited the chant Mapi had been teaching her.

“Who’s your favourite player Elena?”

They were probably expecting her to say one of you two but you knew she wouldn’t do that. She went back and forward every week picking whoever had given her the most attention in training that week. “Tana.” She chose this time.

“Very good, thank you all.”

“Thanks.” You both said before walking off to find all your teammates behind you.

“I love you both.” You whispered placing a kiss on both of their heads. “Thank you so much.”

“No thank you.”

#mapi leon #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon imagines #mapi leon imagine #woso imagine #woso imagines #barcelona femeni #espwnt x reader #espwnt #woso #woso x reader

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yutasbimil · 3 months

Text

Raincheck

woozi x fem!reader | seventeen ff. [one-shot] !!! also posted on my ao3 acc! { here } tags: fluff cw: hogwarts!au, slytherin!woozi, prefect!woozi, sly gf testing jihoon's nerves lol, teasing, couch cuddles, you're different houses with jihoon, established relationship, fluff! note: this is an old piece I wrote! just wanted to share it here as well :3 ! also, not that comfy w/ 2nd POV, tho hope 3rd POV is good for y'all ♡ word count: 1.1k

The rain pouring hard outside can't seem to be heard well in the Slytherin common room.

The only thing that can be heard from the dimly lit room was the mild crackling embers by the fireplace, and the blond Slytherin humming along as he got himself comfortable on the couch.

Maybe it is actually the resounding, non-stop downpour outside or is it that Jihoon got too engrossed in a book he got from the Restricted Section that got him too preoccupied, that he didn’t even notice someone creeping into him.

"What are you doing here?" He says, almost a hiss at the figure of the person he's so familiar with.

He almost flinched at the sudden presence, as if she apparated in front of him. His voice reverberates a bit too uncomfortably due to the lack of people occupying the room, it's as if both their breathing echoes along the droplets of rain.

Y/n just comes in and sneaks into the Slytherin common room as if it's her usual thing— quite a common… room occurrence to put that pun lamely out of the box.

Well, it might as well be, but it isn't as settling for the older male as she's so casual about it.

His eyebrows remained knitted together, looking at the girl standing before him. He was so sure that everyone was out since there are still classes on-going...

"Y/n, seriously, this is not the time that..."

She shushes him quickly. Not even bothering about the daggers he's shooting at her as she quickly makes herself comfortable on the couch.

This is definitely not the time I am in a particular mood to see my girlfriend busting into another house’s territory. Let alone her breaking the rules.

‘Rules are meant to be broken,’ a smug tone rings in his ears. Jihoon could already hear her mischievous lips saying those exact words to retort to him.

He remains his glance over her, following her every move like a hawk hunting for its prey. He suppressed a sigh. Even seeing her in her pajama pants, feeling way too comfortable and home-y to be even in a different house common room.

Jihoon just grips on the book at hand and then settled to place it on the table nearby.

“Come on. I’m asking you. Answer me,” he pressed with a tone full of authority.

But she gave no flying broomsticks about it.

“How bossy,” she snickers, finally talking after being silent at Jihoon.

He just glares at her.

“Come on. Jun told me how to get in… And I know things around here already.” She says nonchalantly, as if it’s gonna convince him. He just puffs, way too distracted to even go back to the book he’s reading.

He stares right at her.

“Have you even forgotten about that ‘raincheck’ we talked about, Ji?” she slightly tilts her head sideways, then puts her lips into a thin line. “Earlier? …this week?”

More staring.

“You told me? Because you were busy and…” She bits her lip, necessarily pausing to give time for him to put the puzzle pieces together, but he’s just left with more pieces. Y/n suppresses a huff. “Nothing…?”

She crosses her arms when Jihoon looked more confused than he already is with handling plants in their Herbology classes. And FYI, he got an E on his O.W.L.S. result.

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.” He says in defeat. Y/n only nods absentmindedly, leaning in close to him to remind him of some things.

“You told me that I can come by this week since your schedule’s more free, and that if I can come by at my convenience… I can then spend time together with you in the dorms...” she says, as if laying out a parchment of proof for him to remember. Exams might’ve taken a huge toll on his brain power hence being so absentminded.

Jihoon goes back to his stern look at her, as if he really can’t trace back on anything that he might possibly said.

Y/n slumps her shoulders yet again.

“At least look like you’re happy to see me.” Y/n cooed, gesturing a bit of affection to trickle out of the male’s sharp expression.

Finally, Jihoon’s features soften.

Okay, he does remember some of it coming off his lips, but I didn’t mean it in a sense you barging in here like a mad woman… He holds back a sigh.

“Well, I am, but still…” He looks away for a moment, worrying his lower lip. Being a prefect he is… he’s also bothered of course. She might get in trouble. Not on my watch that she’ll get away with it, that is.

“Stop worrying too much, and let me be…” She says in retort, automatic as if reading his mind. But that’s full of guts for her to express. “Besides, the seniors know me too well. I assure you I am safe here.” She stretches a bit, and even gets comfortable by the toasty fire nearby. It contrasts with the cold stares the older male is giving her, along with the cold weather cooping them inside.

He rolls his eyes at her, letting out a chuckle.

“This is why you get issued on how much of a Slytherin you are.”

“And do you think I care, Oppa?” Y/n sat right up at that, then pouts her lips, playing with the ends of her sleeves. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing though.”

“Like I said, so Slytherin-like of you.”

Y/n emits a soft laugh at that, standing up to even do a curtsy for him. “Thank you, my good Sir.”

It remained quiet after a while.

Even as she gives him a smirk, she still gets silence from the older male. The coldness surrounding them reflects the feeling like the foggy glassed walls enrapturing the muddled stares between them. It’s a distinct type of tension, no words are needed to be exchanged to reveal it.

Y/n shakes her head lightly, perking a brow at him followed by a cheeky smile. “So that means to say I am welcome here anytime then, huh?”

That finally got a reaction from him.

“Unbelievable.”

“Dude , you’ve been seeing bizarre, floating things and disappearing objects on and off for almost two decades,” she throws her hands high, then gesturing at him and to herself, “and you do not believe in an enchanted lady like me?”

“I do agree with the ‘enchanted lady’ part.” He responds and then clears his throat.

Jihoon avoids his gaze as he begins to feel he’s letting himself loose. He shrugs off the blush across his ears and cheeks with a question he had been throwing at the younger.

“What actually brings you here, Y/n?”

She laughs at that, putting both her hands behind her. “Oh, come on, babe. No need to sound so casual.” Y/n smiles.

He just sounded stiff there at his probe.

She pats him on the head. “Lighten up a bit.”

In these instances, he begins to question if they really switched houses. He gets quieter and curious-er whenever she’s around, and her being the sneaky and more of the talker between them.

“I will, now that I got you here.”

Without a word, Y/n envelopes Jihoon in her arms, giving him a light peck on the side of his face. Jihoon wraps his arms around her as he kisses the top of her head.

He breathes in her scent, feeling her legs wrap around his. Jihoon stares at her. “You missed me too much, huh?”

Y/n just warmly beams, nodding in response.

Jihoon then puts a stray hair of hers behind her ear, tucking more of her hair behind her jumper. He leans closer to her again, seeping in more of her warmth.

She scrunches her nose at that, with Jihoon’s eyes forming into light crescents as both of them are immersed into each other’s world again.

They just let the sound of the loud pouring rain seep into them, letting the warmth of each other be enough to ease the coldness they feel.

“What are the odds to have both our classes cancelled, huh?” Jihoon asks after a while, content as the sound of the rain is still evident outside. Y/n finally has done her explaining to him.

“And what better way to spend it like this then.” She leans more on his chest, breathing in his fresh scent with ease as she felt vibrations from him as he lets out a chuckle.

“It does feel nice…” he says, more of a thought out loud.

“And come on, champ, let’s not use our spare time thinking about that and just spend it wisely instead.” she prompts with a pat on his shoulder, scootching closer till they’re no longer hair strands apart. So clingy.

“I’m just saying.” Jihoon moves his arm above the shoulder, playing bits of her hair.

She feels his shoulders relaxing as he heaves in a deep breath.

It feels nice here, it gets more comfortable as time passes, she thought, closing her eyes.

Like home.

She lets the silence envelop them, a smile slowly forming a similar curve on both their lips.

Maybe she does belong here after all.

She accepts her Slytherin side more so in these instances.

And imagine if they were in the same house though… She can get all the time she needs and wants to have him at arm’s length and look after him.

But for now, she can manage very well to slither in their dorm to her convenience.

※ my masterlist | #enjeiwrites ※

#woozi #lee jihoon #seventeen #svt #woozi fluff #woozi x reader #slytherin!woozi #hogwarts!au #kpop imagine #fanfic #enjeiwrites

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