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#but then I got confirmed for work for the next little bit
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god i feel rough (failing delusionship) so let's do a quick little reaction to giving the 141 little gifts
you and soap regularly sit around and watch your favorite movies. gives you guys something extra to talk about while out in the field. most of them military related like American sniper or some really stupid comedies like the Hangover. A long time favorite of both of yours is the Office, though. So when you're on leave and see one of those stupid Dunder Mifflin keychains, you don't even think twice about getting it for him. When you're back and give it to him, Johnny gets real quiet and puts it on his keys. Gives you a little kiss to your temple and turns on one of your favorite episodes. Keeps you in his arms for awhile after that, platonically of course, bonnie.
ghost and you don't really talk much. you're both together a lot though, existing in each other's orbit. he does paperwork, cleans his guns, stitches up a new mask, whatever. you work on a new hobby, watch YouTube, sleep, or yap into the void. nevertheless, you two are very close. imagine simon's surprise one day as you two sit, your back against his shoulder, as you finish up a friendship bracelet for him. intricate little heart design. you hold it out to him in offering with a little smile, a bit too cautious for his taste. holds his wrist out, lets you put it on him. doesn't say much, but notices you made yourself a matching one. takes it, puts it on your wrist, and brings it to where his mouth is under his mask. little peck. best gift he's ever gotten, birdie. goes back to his work, but it becomes his fidget toy. inspects your wrist when he sees you without yours, brows furrowed. follows you around like a little lost puppy until you confirm that yes, simon, everything's fine.
gaz is baby. he loves spending time with you around base. your room is next to his, making it is easy for you two to meet up and have a nice time. however, his time in the military has made him harder and more forgetful to civilian celebrations and traditions. so when you two are sitting on night watch and you pull out a little cake with happy birthday gaz written on it, he remembers fond memories of a time before. loves you for bringing good memories to his forefront. shares with you, feeding you with his fork. pinkies linked as you watch the sunrise.
gruff old man price won't accept much. he's got a lot on his plate, doesn't need much else going on around him. however, when his favorite little sergeant stops by with a little treat and a cigar for him, he's gooey. all pleasant smiles, wonderful manners, asking about your day. hides his emotions when you mention a pesky little flea on another squad has been bothering you. don't worry, darling, you don't know it but he'll take care of it (if one of his boys doesn't first).
they'd be jealous of eachothers attention on you if they didn't feel the exact same way. pretty little thing, only for them.
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sentientcave · 1 day
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Pompeii//Good Grief
Read on AO3
Johnny's gone, but the sun still rises. There are still missions to go on, the world spins on. Ghost does the only thing he can ever do, and keeps going.
But nothing feels right. He wonders if it will ever feel right again.
Contains: Canon typical violence, Grief, Flashbacks, Involuntary drug use, Hospital setting, Hope, Loss, Love
(Through it all, the love is there)
~3.3k words - MDNI
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“Bravo zero-seven, do you copy? Regroup at infil point— We need to get out of here.”
“Negative. I’m cut off.” Ghost waited for a pause as the soldiers at the end of the hall to ran out of bullets, and took his opportunity to fire back while they reloaded their clips. Sloppy, not covering themselves properly. Amateurish. He expected better from mercs at a top security base like this. He quickly peered around the corner and picked a target— One of the mercs not properly behind cover, and fired three times before pressing himself back behind the corner, broken bones aching sharply. Three broken ribs, left ankle, dislocated shoulder. The strangled yelp was music to his ears, a confirmed hit, if not a confirmed kill.
They didn’t advance, content to hold him in place while the timer counted down on that bomb. He could hear the shuffling of their retreat, dragging their injured comrade behind them.
“Ghost? What’s your location, we’ll come get you.” Typical Gaz. Always thinking there’s a way out. A clever work around.
Not this time.
“Negative. They’re gonna blow the base. Reckon you’ve got forty-five seconds to get clear, so you’d better move sergeant. That’s an order.”
“Ghost—”
“Now, Gaz,” he barked. “No sense anyone else dyin’ in here.”
“Shit. Try to get to cover. We’ll dig for you.”
“Yeah.”
The guns had stopped firing, the enemy soldiers retreating, figuring that the bomb would finish the work they couldn’t.
Ten seconds, give or take. He crawled into a doorway and braced for it.
3, 2, 1.
He pulled blindly at his tags, gripping the little gold cross he’d hung next to them tight. He had never been a praying kind of man, and even now, he wasn’t praying for escape. The explosion ripped through the base, the air turning hot, dust rising up so thickly that Ghost could do nothing but close his eyes against it, burning lack of oxygen tipping him into unconsciousness as the walls rumbled and shook around him.
His last thought, before black jaws swallowed him whole, was of blue eyes fringed by dark lashes, a scarred chin, soft lips and scratchy stubble, the ache of absence. At least he’d see him again.
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“He’s in love with you, you know,” Aileen Mactavish says, putting the newly dried mug back in the cupboard with the rest. She has Johnny’s eyes— Or Johnny has her eyes, maybe, but they’re the same bright blue, and they sparkle the same way.
Simon rinses soap off the next cup and sets it in the drying rack. The kitchen is dark and quiet, compared to the noise in the other room. Johnny’s telling some wild story, and everyone’s laughing, caught up in that irresistible energy that Johnny carries around with him everywhere he goes.
“I know.” Simon struggles to get the words out. He’s never deserved love, never known how to accept it, how to express the depth of what it is that he feels. How can he offer someone like Johnny something as bruised and beaten and scarred up as his heart? It’s not enough. It could never be enough.
“You love him too.” She says it like it’s a simple thing, a fact, undeniable. The sky is blue, the earth is round, and Simon Riley loves Johnny Mactavish.
Throat tight, too tight to risk words, he nods.
Aileen leans toward him, puts a gentle hand on his arm. “You should tell him.”
He does, that night, while Johnny snores softly against his chest. He’s so sure that Johnny’s asleep that he lets the words sneak out, soldiers across an enemy line, stealthy and danger close.
And it strikes like an incendiary bomb, right on target, when Johnny opens his eyes a tiny bit and pulls himself closer, right into the fire.
“I love you too, Si. Now go tae sleep, ye bloody menace.”
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Ghost woke with a start, coughing, ripping at the mask over his face as his lungs screamed for air. The fabric was so thick with blood and dust that breathing through it proved impossible, so he tossed it to the side, laying flat on his back while he pulled in choking, painful gulps of air.
He’d been thrown clear of the doorway, but he was still in one piece. “Johnny,” he growled into the darkness. “If you’re pullin’ some guardian angel bullshite, save it for someone who deserves it. Gaz’d be a good choice.”
As usual, there was no response. Not that he expected one.
It was some kind of fucking sick joke. He was a dead man who couldn’t seem to die. He clicked his radio, hearing only crackling static. “This is Bravo zero-seven. Does anyone copy?”
Nothing.
Well. It wasn’t the first time he’d dragged his own arse out of a grave. Probably wouldn’t be his last either.
He reached into his vest and pulled a glowstick, cracking it, lighting up the pitch dark space with sickly green light. He’d gone through the first floor into the basement, somehow not getting trapped under the rubble that had come down with him. The hallway he’d ended up in hadn’t collapsed fully, but it wasn’t in good shape either. The concrete was cracked, the weight of the ruined complex making the walls groan, broken pipes and conduits hissing distantly into the space.
He braced against the wall and forced his shoulder back into the socket, grunting at the sharp pop of pain. Next thing he needed was a splint for his bloody ankle. An inconvenient break, but fixable. The ribs would be fine, so long as they hadn’t punctured his guts. If they had, he was already dead, it just hadn’t kicked in yet.
So he had to continue under the assumption that they hadn’t. Fine. Splint.
A broken crate nearby would suffice. He crawled over and cracked it apart, sandwiching his foot between two splintery lengths of wood, tying them together with a length of para-cord, looping it around the bottom of his boot a few times to keep the joint as immovable as possible. He pushed himself up, wincing when concrete flaked off under his hand, the wall shifting from the pressure he put on it.
He started moving down the hall, the glowstick illuminating a small circle around him, revealing the gleam of water under a broken pipe, the particles of dust still hanging in the air. A tomb, but a roomier one than Ghost was used to. His ankle throbbed dully with every other step. He checked comms periodically, and got nothing but static in return.
The hallway ended with a pile of rubble. Dead end.
Had be been moving the wrong way? Or had there been multiple charges on the base? It was hard to say— He was pretty sure the cut on his head had been superficial, but maybe he was concussed, disoriented, wandering blindly.
He heard snarling. Distant. Swearing? Someone else was alive down here.
Ghost pivoted and headed back down the hallway to the last intersection— He’d stayed in the main hall because it looked more structurally sound, but the near-inhuman growling was coming from this smaller corridor. Probably an enemy, but maybe they’d have working comms.
He shouldered his rifle and hugged the wall as he moved towards the sound.
The swearing stopped, the hall turning eerily quiet, just the dripping of distant water and the sound of Ghost’s ragged breathing, the reliable thump of his heart. He stopped where he was.
“Oi! Whoever tha fuck ye are, get yer arse over here,” a voice snapped. A familiar voice.
No. No, he was just hearing things. Just a Scottish accent, and he was imagining the familiarity. The voice was a little deeper, a little rougher anyway.
“Hey! Dinnae jest stand there ye dobber. Ah can see you.”
Ghost took a breath to steel himself, and moved closer, gun at the ready. His circle of light illuminated black liquid (blood?) and eyes that gleamed at him from the darkness like an animals. The greenish light illuminated a face a moment later, the lower half covered with a muzzle-like respirator, but the upper half— “Johnny?” he asked hoarsely.
But the eyes didn’t soften with recognition. They were rendered colourless and glassy in the green light, not the sharp, laughing blues he remembered. New scars too, a slash over one eye, and the healed over wound where the bullet had gone through his head.
The bullet that had killed him.
“Somethin’ wrong with ye?” Johnny snapped, shoving at the hunk of concrete that had his lower half pinned to the floor. “I’m no’ yer Johnny. Now gie this fuckin’ rock offa me.”
Simon couldn’t get himself together, he dropped to his knees beside the man, confusion blooming through his head, clouding the mission. He usually knew what to do. But this? “Johnny— 'ow the fuck are you alive?”
“I’m no’ Johnny.” A hand shot out and grabbed Ghost by the strap of his tac vest, hauling him in closer. “Git yer shite together, English.”
Simon flinched. Even with the strange shadows, the unfamiliar snarl, Simon knew that face. Knew his Johnny. “What the fuck did they do to you?” he asked. “They said you were dead!”
“Listen, English, I dinnae know ye. Now, can ye shift this shite or no’?”
Simon shook himself, and stood, checking out the rubble that had Johnny pinned, lifting the glowstick to illuminate the ceiling where it caved in. The pile of debris on top of Johnny was holding up the whole section. “No. The tunnel’s gonna collapse if I do. You’re stuck.”
“Ah, shite.”
Simon carefully lowered himself back to the floor, grunting. “My team’s lookin’ for me. You injured? Got workin’ comms?”
Johnny let his head thump back to the ground. “Fuck. No, no’ injured, best I can tell. No comms either. Blast fried my kit. EMP in it, probably ta wipe the computers on base. I go’ a hard-drive, hopefully it’s no’ crushed under this big feckin’ rock!” He gestures rudely at the concrete.
“Who’d’you work for?” Simon asked. “M16? CIA?”
“None of your bloody business, English. If you dinnae know me, it’s above yer clearance.”
“Doubt it. I’m SAS. Taskforce 141.” It was so strange to tell him information that he was supposed to know. “Lieutenant Simon Riley. Besides, I do know you.”
“Oh, are ye?” Johnny studied him for a long moment. “I thought Riley wore a stupid skull mask all the time. No pictures on file. They call him Ghost, which is a bloody stupid name.”
“That’s me. Your name’s worse. We call you Soap.”
“Listen, English, ye dinnae know me! I’m no’ your sudsy Johnny or whatever.”
“Yes. You are.” Simon took off his gloves and reached into a pocket to pull out the photo he liked to keep on him, a picture of the two of them in Glasgow, in front of the big stone arches leading into one of the parks. Arms around each other, Johnny’s smile brighter than the sunny day. He’d had someone take his phone and snap the picture for them, talking up a storm. Simon had it printed— Had printed most of the good pictures of Johnny— and made an album. This one was a favourite, though. He could see the happiness in his own eyes.
Happiness had died with Johnny. But seeing him again had a little flicker of it coming back to life, even if he did look at him like he was a stranger.
He handed the picture and the glowstick to Johnny, watched the wrinkle of confusion grow between his eyebrows. “I dinnae remember this.”
“Bullet probably damaged your memory.” Ghost shifted closer and brushed his fingers over the healed injury. “Or maybe they did somethin' to you. What’s with the muzzle? You were always a dog, but this looks different.”
“Canister cracked, but it’s for aerosolized— They told me I had a wife. Tha’ she’d died, an’ Ah’d volunteered for this.” Johnny’s thumb brushed over his own face.
“Who’s they?”
"Doctors. God, there was so much missin' I didnae ask the right questions." He sighed. "CIA, maybe. Some of them were Americans. Watcher's American."
"Watcher? Kate?"
"Aye, tha's her name. Laswell."
Simon's hands curled into fists. He didn't much care for the idea that Kate knew that Johnny was alive, and had let him think he was dead this whole time. "What did they say your name is?" He asked.
"Nautilus."
"What, you think that's what your mum named you?"
"Well. Guess no'. Didnae really think about it." Johnny looked at him, something sheepish in his eyes. "Sounds daft now."
"Can't know what you don't know."
"Weel, maybe, but everythin' from before is just a big fuck-off black hole. It shoulda bothered me more."
"What's the cracked canister?" Simon asked. "The shite all over the floor yeah?"
"Aye. Makes me stronger, faster, heal better. Guess it might make me stupid too." He chuckles, tugging the respirator down off his face. "Johnny. Riley?"
Simon snorted. "Mactavish. We weren't married."
Johnny flexed his jaw, working it side to side. "But we were… Together, aye?"
"Yeah. I'm real familiar with the Scotland Forever tattoo on your lower back."
"Away and bile yer heid. Go' it oan a dare, when Ah was a…" He trailed off, realization colouring his expression. "Recruit. Didnae know tha'."
"Between Price and Gaz'n me, we can probably fill in some'f the blanks for you."
"What else do you know about me?"
"Just about everythin'. Got three older sisters. Born and raised in Glasgow. Right pain in the arse. Rangers fan. Cousin in the air force. You're an artist, got sketches that make even me look 'andsome." Simon grinned, brushing a hand through Johnny's mohawk. "Glad you kept the stupid 'aircut."
"Oh fuck off," Johnny said, grinning back, thumping his fist against Simon's chest. The tags spilled over the edge of his vest, the cross catching the eerie light. Johnny stared at it. "That's mine?" he asked. "An' you wear it, all the time?"
"Yeah. You recognize it?"
"Kinda. I guess, yeah."
"Gave your tags to your mum. She said I could keep this."
"I don't remember her. Or you. Or much of anythin' really. Thought I remembered he wife, but I guess I was just tryin' to make sense of what they told me." Johnny hummed. "Didn't do so badly for myself though, did I? You're a big handsome feller." He tried to hand back the picture, but there was reluctance to it, like he didn’t really want to let it go.
Simon knew the feeling. “You keep that. I can print a new one. Show you the rest when we get out of here. See if we can shake loose any other memories.”
Johnny tucked the photo into his vest, letting his arm fall to his side, into the narrow space between them. “Aye, that sounds nice.”
Slowly, hesitantly, Simon wrapped his hand around Johnny’s, slotting together perfectly, just like they were supposed to. Johnny lifted his hand, fingers tightening in case Simon tried to pull away. He studied their interlocked hands for a long moment.
Simon opened his mouth, but he changed his mind about what he was going to say when he heard the distant scuff of footsteps, his busted radio buzzing with static. A rescue already? It seemed soon, but then again, he didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious before he’d started moving.
He clicked through the radio frequencies, trying to get a clear channel, but nothing that came through was intelligible. He picked up his rifle, surging to his feet, ignoring his ankle. “Hey!” he shouted. “Over ‘ere! Got someone trapped.”
The distant footsteps turned into a stampede, so much noise, voices (English, American) talking over each other, the static of radio. They had flashlights— Too bright after all that time with just the glowstick. Simon blinked, trying to adjust as people crowded into the space, separating him from Johnny, hands pulling his gun from his hands.
“Easy, Lieutenant,” a voice said from behind one of those too-bright lights when he tried to hold on to his rifle. “We’ll get you both out of here. Are you injured?”
“I— Yes, but—”
“Nautilus secured,” someone said.
“Oi, get yer hands off me, let me see him—”
This wasn’t right. “No, no! Johnny— Get the ‘ell off me— Johnny!” He tried to push past the hands, to see past the lights, but they pushed back. Something pinched at his neck, and everything turned upside down, his vision warping, ears ringing. “No!”
The world turned white, rather than black.
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There are flashes of colour and sound, reality bleeding in around the edges of the noise. The blue sky, Price’s face, Gaz’s arm pulling him up, more bright lights. They try to get him on a stretcher, but that’s the wrong way— He needs to get back to Johnny.
Price says something, but the words don’t make any sense. Simon grabs his collar, tries to explain, but there’s no understanding in Price’s eyes.
Noise from a helo. Nik’s voice. Blue gloved hands and more lights.
No Johnny.
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He stared at a white grid of ceiling tiles, confused, body heavy as lead. He looked to one side, at Price snoring in the chair, then at the beeping monitor on the other side.
“Price,” he rasped.
Price jerked awake in an instant. “Shit, Simon, you gave us a scare.”
“What ‘appened?”
“You dug your way out— Gaz and I found you passed out above ground. Don’t know how you did it, they said you were exposed to gas fumes, lack of oxygen for god knows how long. You were hallucinatin’ when you came to.”
“No. No, I wasn’t. Price, I saw Johnny down there.”
Price’s eyes pinch with concern. “Simon… Johnny’s dead.”
Simon shook his head vehemently. “No! No, ‘e’s alive, Skipper. I saw ‘im. ‘E didn’t know me. They did somethin’ to ‘im, made ‘im different. Someone came to get ‘im, they must’ve left me above ground.” He scowled. “They took ‘im from me, Price. Again!” He flexed his hands, remembering the feel of Johnny’s hand in his.
That was no hallucination.
“Simon…”
“No. Look at my ‘ands, Price. If I’d dug myself out they’d be bloody scraped up.” He held out his palms, calloused, but unmarred. “I know I’m mad, Price, but I swear. I saw ‘im.”
Price frowned. The evidence didn’t add up, but he didn’t believe him either. If their positions had been reversed, Simon might not have believed him either. They’d seen Johnny go cold. Carried the ashes back to Scotland. He’d told Aileen and the girls what had happened, cried with them.
But it didn’t matter. That was all a bad dream now. Simon knew what he’d seen. Johnny was alive, and he’d find him. And he’d never let anyone get between them again.
Undeniable fact. The sky was blue, the earth was round, and Simon Riley would see Johnny Mactavish again.
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In a spartan, concrete room, a man that might have once been named Johnny stares at Simon’s half-covered, half-familiar face in a photograph, standing next to a mirror image of himself, younger and smiling. Happy.
In love.
He wonders what that feels like. Does it feel like the squeeze around his heart when Simon wrapped his big, scarred hand around his? Calloused palm to palm, bare skin that burned like holy fire where they touched, dark eyes that looked at him with some indescribable emotion? Did it feel like light after an eternity in darkness?
He thinks it must feel like coming home. Like belonging somewhere warm and familiar, in someone’s arms, not this cold, sterile room that now feels only a step above a cell.
He presses a kiss to Simon’s image, and holds it to his chest, and wonders if somewhere Simon is thinking of him too.
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(He is.)
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I've been thinking about writing something like this this since I first saw the new Nautilus skin for Soap. The idea that they were going to Winter Soldier our boy has stuck with me, and when I was listening to these two songs, the idea solidified into something actionable. Sorry it's not a happier ending! But I think it's still a hopeful one.
Thanks for reading!
Image Credits: Basement - Smoke
Pompeii, Good Grief - Bastille
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coldercreation · 8 months
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I just finished reading the second Liam chapter and aaaaaaaaa just screaming. It’s perfect!! Both chapters are so well written, so full of love it kinda hurts hahaha
From the first part, idk I loved it when you mentioned about Lit past together since very young. Like, I knew that bit of their story bc I read it here in one post but reading it in the actual story felt like it was even more real, y’know? To read about Liam’s concerns about his career, Kit’s unconditional support since always…I can’t explain why I loved it so much but yeah haha feels like being closer to the boys <3
And yes, we are not lying when we tell you that that first part was soooo good. You found a well balance and projected very well the idea that Liam was confused and concerned.
And this second part goshhh i cannot <3333 i’m so weak with pet names (pretty sure I have said that before…) and praise likeee i read it and i feel like melting haha you can imagine after that second (third?) chapter im nothing but a puddle on the floor hskdjfdk apart from that, it’s great to see Liam and Kit finding themselves more settled with their instincts now :’)
I’m so excited to get into Kit’s thoughts and Izzy and Nat participation in this whole situation.
Sorry I wrote so much haha. But yeah, thank you for everything as always!! 💗💗
(P.S. you are definitely spoiling us with 3 chapters in like 4 days!! Not complaining tho…)
Ahhh thank you so much for sharing your thoughts on the chapters!! I love hearing all about it so no such thing as writing too much (also, have you seen me and how much I write?? lmaoo) Such a lovely message, thank you so much<3
And yesss I’m so happy to finally have more of Lit’s background in the actual story, about the daymn time! Their dynamics in general are just so fascinating for me to mess with, and it’s fun to figure out how they shift over time in relation to how they grow and things change etc. Like, before Nat, Liam was the youngest and the most ‘babiest’ of them, so all their dynamics adjusted a little with Nat coming in. But like in this sad!kitty one, as much as it was for Kit's benefit this time around, Liam also still needs the moments where he gets to be a whole baby with Kit :( (when they’re not too busy being dude-bros to trigger Izzy & tease Nat lol)
Thehehe I hope you enjoyed the rest of the story as well! I’m afraid Kit had literally like 0 thoughts by the last chapter, but hims a cutie and he was going through it, so we shall give him a break :’) 
Thank you for the sweet message again, I really enjoyed hearing your thoughts on the chapters! xx
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crystallinestars · 6 months
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How They React to Your Death
My HCs about how I think the Genshin boys would react to your death. I wanted to write Kaeya too, but ran out of steam.
This month has been terrible to me, so I was in the mood for angst. I don't know how well these turned out, but they were fun to think about.
Part 2 here.
Characters: Alhaitham, Childe, Heizou, Kaveh, Lyney, Neuvillette, Venti, Wanderer/Scaramouche, and Wriothesley
WARNING:
Reader has death descriptions. Some are more graphic than others, but I don't get into the nitty gritty details.
Spoilers for the backstories of all the mentioned boys.
MAJOR SPOILERS for Act V of the Fontaine Archon quest in Neuvillette's part.
Childe's part contains mention of suicidal thoughts.
Kaveh's and Venti's parts contain alcoholism
🎧 Alhaitham
Despite Alhaitham’s considerable wealth, no amount of money could cure your Eleazar sickness. His money could only buy treatment that prolonged your life a little bit, but ultimately your many years of battling the illness ended when he got news from the doctors that you had passed away in your sleep.
Alhaitham had accepted the news fairly quickly. He knew your death was inevitable, could see you slowly wasting away each time he visited you in the hospital over the past few months. So it was no surprise to him when the day finally came. The other patients and staff thought it strange how Alhaitham had no visible reaction to the news, but some chalked it up to shock when in truth the Scribe was simply accepting of that fact. There was no use denying something that already happened.
When Alhaitham came home that day, the house felt silent and empty. It reminded him of how the house felt when his grandmother passed away when he was younger. The sensations were similar. However, he did not cry over your death. Instead, he carried on his life as normal, or as close to it as he could now that you were no longer a part of what he considered ‘normal’.
At first glance, people thought that Haitham was unaffected by your death. Nothing about him changed. Not his mannerisms, his quality of work, or his expression. He remained the same reserved, stoic Scribe who had no time for trivial nonsense or extra work. He also never talked about you to others aside from confirming their question if you were truly gone. Alhaitham was like a well-oiled machine that worked efficiently like clockwork, keeping up the same even rhythm.
What they don’t see is how he comes home with the expectation of hearing your voice greet him upon entering, only to be faced with a defeating silence that makes his heart sink. They don’t know that Alhaitham wakes up throughout the night, expecting to find you snuggled up next to him in bed the way you used to before your sickness got worse, and you had to be hospitalized. However, you weren’t there no matter how many times he looked towards your side of the bed, and the Scribe could only sigh and try to fall back asleep while ignoring his aching heart.
No one sees how Alhaitham gets too lost in his books in the mornings and accidentally makes two cups of coffee instead of one due to force of habit. Or how, for once, he finds the silence of his house bothersome without your voice and the sounds of your activities resounding within the walls, and it’s enough to distract him from reading. He could be found reading at the House of Daena and Puspa Café more often from then on.
During his afternoon naps, Alhaitham sneaks back home and cradles your favorite blanket to mimic the sensation of holding your soft body in his arms the way he used to when you joined him for naps. He listens to recordings of you talking with him just so he can hear your voice again. He was glad he made the decision to record your voice at the hospital before you became too weak to speak. It gave him the chance to hear you one more time even if the sound of your voice made his chest hurt so much that he occasionally had to stop the recording to collect himself.
Nobody sees how Alhaitham finally picks up the fiction books you recommended him because they were your favorite. He prefers non-fiction, but these books are the last things he has left through which he could connect to your mind and way of thinking. He reads them all cover-to-cover even if he finds the story lacking or the writing not to his taste. He will learn to treasure each and every word because you once did.
What someone might see, as Kaveh did when he moved in with the Scribe, is a bookshelf filled with a few journals, a thick book with an emerald cover, and an assortment of fiction books that exist nowhere else in the house. Alhaitham never talks about these books unless asked, but their well-worn covers are a sign of frequent use, and sure enough, one can catch him reading a rare fiction book during one specific month each year.
🐋 Childe
You went missing after going out to collect some firewood in the woods near Childe’s home. A search party was arranged to find you with Childe in the lead, and he was also the first one to find your remains. Your body had been torn apart, blood and innards splattered across the snow, no doubt the work of some rifthounds. Usually, Childe would relish in such a gory sight, but not this time. Not when it’s your blood and flesh painted in the snow.
The sight leaves him numb. He’s numb when the search party comes to retrieve you, numb when he sees your parents weeping over your gruesome death, and numb when he takes on the duty of exterminating every rifthound he finds around Morepesok.
He wants to cry too, to grieve for you the way he needs, but refrains. He doesn’t want to appear weak and unreliable when his younger siblings mourn and cry over your death. You were like family to them, and your death broke their little hearts to pieces. Childe didn’t want to burden his siblings further by breaking down in front of them. He needed to remain a reliable older brother who could support them through this tough time, even when his own heart bled and he cried in his sleep when he dreamed about you.
Childe’s underlings noted that the Eleventh Harbinger became colder and more irritable after your passing. Any mention of your name would garner the speaker a harsh glare, and if Childe assumed what said person said about you was disrespectful, he didn’t hesitate to start a fight and beat the other person within an inch of their life. He became violent and unhinged, much like how he used to be when he returned from the Abyss as a fourteen-year-old boy.
Childe knew his behavior was irrational, and it pained him to see even his own family fear him due to his violent actions. He felt restless. Spending time at home among your belongings summoned feelings of longing and sadness, but even so, he couldn’t bear to throw anything away. He lived among the ghosts of your existence, however, it drove him mad with grief.
Childe needed an outlet for his emotions, so he took to fighting monsters and other strong opponents. He became even more reckless in battle. If before, the Harbinger sought out strong enemies to test his mettle against them and grow stronger as a result, now he sought out an opponent that would be worthy of taking his life.
Childe didn’t want to abandon his family. He loved them dearly and wanted to see his siblings grow up to be happy and successful people, but life without you felt so hollow. A part of him wanted to return to his family, but the sense of his family feeling incomplete never left him. You were just as much of a family to him as his siblings and parents were. He had plans to start his own family with you. But now… now, a part of him yearns to reunite with you in the afterlife. He promised he would stay by your side no matter what, and Ajax is not one to break his promises.
🔍 Heizou
Heizou was one of the first to hear about your stabbing that occurred in an Inazuman alleyway late that evening. You were rushed to a doctor to have your wound treated, but the robber who attacked you hit a vital area. Your blood loss was colossal, and it wasn’t long after arriving at the doctor’s that you succumbed to your injury.
To Heizou, the news brought on a sense of deja vu. He’s already lost a friend to crime in the past, and now he lost you to crime, too. The knowledge made him furious and heartbroken. He was angry at the robber for stabbing you just so he could steal some money that you didn’t want to part with, and he was angry at himself for failing to prevent this. After his friend passed away, Heizou swore to nip crime in the bud by discouraging criminals from committing crimes with the threat that he would find and capture them no matter what without fail. But what good did his resolve do if you still died because of an armed robber?
The heartache and guilt he felt ate away at him as the memory of your ashen face during your last few moments haunted him. He lost you. Never again would he get to spend time with you and make you laugh, kiss and hug you, or tell you he loved you.
His anger drove him to capture the murderer in record time, but hearing the criminal’s subsequent sentence for theft and murder didn’t comfort the detective. No amount of jail time would ever atone for the loss of your life.
After that day, Heizou lost his playful demeanor, becoming somber and reserved. He threw himself into his work, feeling pressured to capture as many criminals as he could in as little time as possible. However, his grief and exhaustion caused his mind to dull and make mistakes while investigating clues. It got to the point where Kujou Sara had to forcibly send him on vacation so he could take a break and properly process your death.
Despite his protests, Heizou knew he wasn’t much use in his current state, so he took this free time to visit your family and mourn together with them. He apologized for not doing a better job of protecting you, fully expecting your parents to lay blame on him for not protecting their child. To his surprise, your parents didn’t blame him at all. They even thanked him for catching the murderer and helping them to feel a little more at peace. Heizou’s interaction with your family helped him feel a tiny bit less guilty about your death.
The experience left him feeling a little less broken, so in the following days he sorted through your belongings in your shared home. He packed away some items to return to your parents, some things he put in storage, and others he gave away that he remembered you wanting to get rid of. A few of your items he kept for himself, one of which was a scarf you mentioned you bought because it was the same shade of green as his eyes which reminded you of him.
Heizou wore your scarf as a keepsake and good luck charm and would hardly be seen without it when he finally came back to work. What once served as your reminder of him, now served as his reminder of you, the person he loved with his whole being. But with the memories of you came the reminder of how you died. Though the memory was painful, it helped Heizou work up the will to keep pursuing his goal of eradicating crime. Even when the case was extremely tough with conflicting clues, your scarf would remind him to not give up, to not let another incident like yours happen again, and Heizou would persevere. He would continue to persevere no matter how long it took because he didn’t want innocent lives like yours to be snatched away so cruelly. Maybe one day, he will see you in the afterlife and proudly tell you all about how he achieved his dream. Until then, he will work hard to be worthy of the title of Inazuma’s best detective.
🍷 Kaveh
Kaveh had a lot of work to do. He was saddled with creating drafts for another large project while also trying to work on the commission for constructing a library in Aaru village for the children. Wanting to help alleviate his burden, you offered to take the finished drafts over to Aaru village yourself so he could focus on finishing up work for his other project. Kaveh tried to object, saying you really didn’t need to trouble yourself on his behalf, but you insisted, expressing your desire to help him finish his work sooner so the two of you could spend more time together again. After some deliberation, he let you go to the village by yourself, confident that you could make the trip since you accompanied him there several times before.
A few days later, Kaveh received news that you had died on your return trip from the desert. When he heard the cause of your death, his stomach roiled. You perished in quicksand just like his father. You died doing something for his sake, just like his father did.
Whatever future plans he was building together with you, whatever progress you made in helping him slowly heal from his trauma, it all came crashing down around him. Your death reopened old wounds Kaveh was only starting to heal from, as well as left new scars that tormented him every waking moment.
The first few weeks, Kaveh couldn’t stand to be in your shared home. It was full of memories of you, and each and every one of your belongings would stab at his heart like a blade. Moreover, the house felt so silent without you around. It reminded him of when his mother left for Fontaine, leaving him alone in a house too big for only him to live in. Now, he was reliving that moment all over again, but it was worse this time because, unlike his mother, he would never see you again.
Kaveh also couldn’t stand to look inside his sketchbooks. The pages were covered in various sketches of you, and looking at them only made the anguish and guilt grow in him tenfold. He blamed himself for your death, attributing it to being his fault just like he attributes his father’s death as his fault too. No matter what anyone says to console him, he will never stop believing it’s all his fault.
Fueled by guilt and self-loathing, Kaveh spent several weeks visiting Lambad’s tavern practically every day. One could even say he lived there since the architect seldom went home. He used what little money he had to buy alcohol, especially of the stronger kind. He wanted to numb the pain in his heart and to pretend that you weren’t really gone from this world. The alcohol helped to muddle his mind until his intoxicated brain conjured happy memories of you together, and Kaveh would mumble your name in a drunken haze. Other times it didn’t help, and Alhaitham, Cyno, or Tighnari could often find a drunk Kaveh quietly crying while slumped over a table and trying their best to drag him home while listening to his drunken babble of self-loathing and regret.
It will take a long time for Kaveh to feel okay again, and even then, he will never be the same optimistic and cheerful person he used to be. You were his muse, the one who made him feel like maybe he was deserving of love after all. But with you gone, he lost his creative spark. His designs no longer held the same extravagant and artistic flair they used to. Now, they’re more tame by comparison. With your passing, you took with you the little bit of joy he felt towards the world, and it seemed more bleak than it used to be when he was with you.
Kaveh refused to seek out love after your death. He’s lost too many people he held dear and has been left alone over and over again. The pain of being left behind and of feeling like he will only bring misfortune to those he cares about, made him seal off his heart. He doesn’t want to let people close to him like that again, and neither does he want to replace you. You were, and still are, very special to him.
Despite numerous years going by after your passing, Kaveh never forgot you, and he didn’t want your memory to be forgotten either. He built an art school and dedicated it to you in honor of being the one who inspired him so much in his creative endeavors. He hopes that your name will live on and continue to inspire future generations of artists long after he is gone from the world.
🎩 Lyney Having grown up in the House of the Hearth with Lyney and Lynette, the twins were practically like family to you. Though admittedly, Lyney and you developed romantic ties rather than familial ones the more you got to know each other. It was no surprise to anyone when the two of you became a couple, and Lynette even encouraged it.
Being a member of the Fatui, you were often sent out on dangerous missions to infiltrate enemy territory and report your findings back to Arlecchino. You were good at your job and had major successfully completed missions under your belt, but even the best slip up sometimes. After infiltrating enemy headquarters, you regularly reported your findings back to the House, however, one day the correspondence stopped. You went completely silent. The thought of you being caught immediately crossed Lyney’s mind, but he was hopeful that as an experienced agent, you would manage to find a way out somehow. You always have in the past, and after having worked together with you during joint missions, he saw first-hand how capable you were. To pass the time, he focused on polishing a magic trick he wanted to show you upon your return.
Days go by, and just as the magician is about to lose his patience and run off to try and find you, news about your body washing up on a riverbank reaches his ears. The heartbreak Lyney experiences upon hearing the news is indescribable. He felt lost, disoriented, and anguished. A part of him refused to believe the facts, but after witnessing the gruesome sight of your corpse, he had no choice but to face reality.
You were dead.
Lyney wondered at length about the cause of your death, and while his own guesses made his stomach knot, the autopsy report he read a few days later made him livid. Numerous torture and abuse marks were found on your body. It seemed that the enemy had captured and tortured you, hoping to force you to spill some of the Fatui’s secrets. Judging by the severity of the most recent wounds, you must have kept quiet because more brutal torture methods were used on you until the enemy figured out they wouldn’t get anything out of you, and disposed of you. Lyney knew how loyal you were to your family. You would never betray them even at the cost of your own life, but in that moment, he really wished you would have treasured your life more. Maybe then you could have survived. Maybe then he would have had the chance to hold you in his arms and tell you he missed you while you were gone. Maybe he would have had an opportunity to show off the magic trick he created specifically for your eyes only. But now, he’ll continue to miss you until the day death comes for him too. Lyney’s initial reaction upon hearing of your torture is overwhelming fury. Lynette had to hold him back from recklessly running off to take revenge against the enemy. It took a lot of reasoning on her part, but eventually, her brother calmed down.
Once his bout of anger passed, Lyney broke down. Lynette didn’t hide her own tears as she held her brother in her arms while he cried. The siblings both missed you dearly and mourned your loss, but Lyney took your death especially hard. He felt broken. One of his most precious people was taken from him in such a cruel manner, and the mere thought of how you must have spent your last few waking hours made him feel horrible.
He was anguished and angry, and the potent concoction of negative emotions weighed down on his heart and mind. Gone was his cheerful smile and outgoing attitude, replaced with a cold and somber frown. His calculative side took center stage. Though his initial burst of outrage passed, he wouldn’t give up on his desire for revenge until the act had been carried out. Aside from the twins, Arlecchino also refused to take your death lying down. You were her precious child, someone she put in a lot of love and effort to raise, and this transgression angered her as much as it angered Lyney. Together with Arlecchino, Lyney and Lynette infiltrate enemy headquarters and make every person a part of that organization pay. The magician ensures that the perpetrators experience the same pain you went through during your torture, and by the time they’re done, not a soul is left alive.
Even after exacting revenge, Lyney barely feels a smidge better. Though your captors have been neutralized and won’t hurt anyone the way they hurt you ever again, it doesn’t satisfy Lyney. At the end of the day, all he wants is to have you back in his life. He consoles himself with pieces of your clothing. Your clothes smelled like you, and Lyney hugged one of your items every night, breathing in your scent and soaking the material with his tears as he quietly cried. It takes a long time for Lyney to get himself together and act like himself again. Though he could easily put on a fake smile for his audience, his heart still aches inside. He misses you no matter how many months go by, and Lynette has her hands full comforting him when he breaks down at night and cries about how much he wants to see you. Lyney would have had an easier time accepting your death if you had passed away more peacefully, but knowing you were tortured to death will forever haunt him.
Once he feels more like himself, Lyney incorporates the magic trick he originally wanted to show you upon your return into his magic shows. He only performs it during special occasions so it would leave a great spectacle upon his audience. It was once made to awe you, but now it awes his audience, and a part of him feels some semblance of catharsis in knowing he could inspire others to feel the same joy you made him feel using just this trick. At times like these, Lyney feels as if a part of you was still there with him, enjoying the show he secretly dedicates in your honor.
⚖️ Neuvillette
You were visiting your friend Navia in Poisson, when the Primordial Sea flooded the area and caused a great catastrophe that took the lives of many of its residents. Neuvillette was aware you were in Poisson when the disaster struck, and he tried to get there as quickly as he could to check on you. He would have arrived there immediately were it not for the pressing matters he had to settle prior. He hoped the Traveler and Paimon would find you and keep you safe since they knew you were the Iudex’s beloved.
When he finally made it to Poisson, to his morbid surprise, he found neither you nor Navia, but some Fatui members helping to mitigate the damage. When he asked about your whereabouts, he was told that nobody had seen you. Immediately, his thoughts ventured to the worst scenario, but he refused to believe in his fears until he could get confirmation. He held out hope that you were alright, and went in pursuit of Navia and the Traveler, hoping that maybe you were with them, or they knew what happened to you.
It wasn’t until he was saving Navia from getting dissolved in the Primordial Sea water, did he catch a glimpse of your face. You were trying to protect Navia from certain death, along with Silver and Meluse. At the time he was too anxious about saving Navia to fully register the implication, but an unsettling thought sprang in his mind that maybe you really were— No, he didn’t want to accept it.
When Navia regained consciousness, Neuvillette asked her about your whereabouts. Her answer pierced through him like an ice-cold lance. With tears in her eyes, Navia recounted how you were helping Silver and Meluse rescue the residents of Poisson when the Primordial Sea flooded in, and how she saw your body dissolve in the water along with her loyal subordinates with her own eyes. The news settled in Neuvillette’s stomach like a boulder, causing it to sink and make him feel nauseous. Dread filled him, but he could only muster a quiet “I see…” and stare off into the distance. He felt crushing sadness, but he wasn’t given time to properly process his emotions and your death until he managed to make it out of the ruins.
That evening, Fontaine was hit by a torrential downpour that lasted several days. The rain fell in heavy sheets, flooding the streets and urging most of the citizens to seek shelter in their homes. Only the Chief Justice had the gall to stand outside and let the rain seep and soak through his clothes.
Neuvillette let the water droplets cascade down his face, imitating the tears he wished to shed as the realization that he would never see you again settled in. It was strange. Though he was on land, each waking moment he was pursued by a constant feeling of drowning. His chest felt heavy as if burdened by a great weight that made each breath he took feel like a herculean task.
Neuvillette felt a lot of emotions he couldn’t find the words for. He was frustrated and angry that innocent civilians had died in the flood because nothing was done to prevent it. So many people died. You died. If nothing else, he wanted to get justice for your and the others’ deaths.
However, Furina refused to provide answers to his questions despite his probing and insistence that now was not the time to keep secrets that could potentially help prevent an even greater catastrophe. That was when he turned to seeking aid from his companions, in the hopes that Fontaine could still be saved. Neuvillette lost and gained many things in those few days. The citizens of Fontaine were freed of their curse, and Neuvillette had obtained a position of complete authority, however, it all came at the cost of the lives of innocent civilians, Focalors’s life, Furina’s mental state, and… your life. Those were great prices to pay, and Neuvillette mourned each and every sacrifice.
Now that he had some time to himself to process his feelings, Neuvillette recognized that what he felt was grief and longing. He wanted to see you at least one more time, to feel you in his arms again. To have you taken from him so suddenly was too painful. He never got to tell you one last ‘I love you’, and he could only hope that his words reach you wherever your consciousness might be now. Fontaine will see frequent rainfall in the coming months. It won’t be easy for Neuvillette to get over your death, and some part of him will always ache and yearn to see you again. But one thing he can do is strengthen his resolve to make Fontaine into a nation that both you and Focalors would be proud of. A nation where tragedies like these will never happen again.
🍃 Venti
Venti liked to climb up on high places like his statue in front of the Favonius church, the rooftop of the Cat’s Tail, or the great tree at Windrise. Today, you found him high up in the tree, absentmindedly strumming a new tune on his lyre. Wanting to surprise the bard, you tried your best to climb the tree as quietly as you could, but right as you were about to pop up and surprise him, the branch you were on snapped, and with a heart-stopping shriek, you plummeted down to the ground.
Your scream alerted Venti. He felt your presence before you even started climbing the tree, but he failed to foresee the danger until it was too late. He didn’t react fast enough to summon a gust of wind to safely lower you down. The sickening crunch of your skull hitting the ground made his stomach roil, and for a brief moment he felt as if the blood in his veins turned to ice. He felt frozen in place.
Snapping out of his momentary stupor, Venti rushed to your side to check on you, but the enormous pool of blood blooming around your lifeless body made him throw up.
Not again. He lost someone he loved once more. The painful emotions of losing you triggered a cascade of memories of seeing the broken body of that one boy he called a friend thousands of years ago. The same boy whose face he now wore as a way of honoring his memory and giving him an opportunity to live out his dreams of freedom through Venti.
Venti felt that same feeling of heavy emptiness once again as he cradled your lifeless body in his arms, your blood smearing the white sleeves of his shirt. One of the bard’s hands cradled your still-warm cheek, and he wept. To have you taken away so easily through such a small accident… it was too much.
Venti didn’t attend your funeral. He couldn’t bear to. However, he forced himself to watch from a distance as your loved ones gathered around your grave. He fully empathized with their grief.
In the following days, one could often find Venti at a tavern. He started with Angel’s Share, but after consecutive days of heavy drinking and drunken ramblings about how remorseful he felt and how you deserved better, Diluc put a stop to Venti’s visits. The Anemo Archon wasn’t getting any better from drinking himself into a stupor until he could barely hold himself upright. It was heartbreaking to see.
Even after being banned from the Angel’s Share, Venti would visit other taverns in the city and rinse and repeat. He so badly wanted to numb the pain in his heart and forget the awful memory of your lifeless body. Only after several bans did Venti finally stop coming to the city altogether. He disappeared for a while, and nobody was able to find him. Only after many weeks did the bard suddenly pop up in the town square with his lyre in hand.
During his absence, Venti wrote a few songs as a way to cope with his grief, and after a while, finally felt well enough to play them. As a bard, he was well-known in Mondstadt for playing cheerful and beautiful tunes, but this time his melodies were melancholic, even sad. They listened to him sing about a love he can no longer say ‘I love you’ to anymore, someone he can no longer forge new memories with and can only carry on in his heart as a memory. The music he played captured the attention of every member of the audience and touched their hearts so deeply that they, too, could feel the sorrow the bard was trying to convey through his melodies. His pain became their pain, too. The heartache was so profound, so raw and crippling, that many people couldn’t hold back from crying.
Venti wasn’t playing the songs to earn money or share his sadness with others. He was playing them for you. He hoped that his feelings would reach you wherever you were and that your memory wouldn’t fade away even if he remained the last person alive who knew of your existence. His songs will keep your memory alive in the hearts of the Mondstadt citizens, never to be forgotten.
☂️ Wanderer
You have been fighting chronic sickness for months, but despite the treatments, each week you seemed to get worse and worse. Neither the doctors of Sumeru nor even Nahida herself could figure out a cure for your condition. You were bedridden with barely any strength to move. Wanderer took responsibility for nursing you back to health by helping you get to places you needed, cooking all your meals and feeding you, as well as getting your medicine and administering it.
Despite his efforts, you could tell you wouldn’t last long. While you still had the strength to talk, you apologized to him for being forced to part from him.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed, with a frown pulling at his lips. “Rather than talk about such nonsense, use that energy to get better instead.”
He didn’t want to face the facts, to accept the reality that you could disappear from his life. But then came a day where you no longer opened your eyes when he called your name, nor stirred when he tried to shake you awake. Your body was cold and stiff and so unlike what he was used to seeing you as. The life you possessed was gone in all senses of the word.
Something in Wanderer snapped that day. Falling to his knees, he let out a guttural scream that tore at his vocal cords. He unleashed a wail that carried all the anguish and misery he’d been keeping bottled up inside for hundreds of years. He’s lost so many people he cared for in the past. Each time he met someone he grew attached to, fate would always tear them away from him, and you were no exception.
He cried bitter tears in the privacy of your shared home, cursing Fate for doing this to him over and over again. He was angry and heartbroken. Though he lacked a real heart, the sensation in his chest felt like something inside him broke into a million tiny fragments. As if sharp needles pierced through his non-existent heart and caused him to scream until he lost his voice.
He wanted revenge, but how can one get vengeance against Fate itself?
You were gone, so cruelly torn away from his side despite his best efforts to keep you alive. You were the little ray of light that never gave up on him no matter how cold he was towards you or how much he pushed you away, and helped him heal little by little. You accepted him in his entirety and wormed your way into his non-existent heart, so how dare Fate mock him like this? Wanderer truly felt as if Fate was purposely torturing him by taking away all those whom he held dear.
Helpless and anguished, Wanderer reverted to the days when he used to be Scaramouche, the sixth of the Fatui Harbingers who was infamous for his callousness and mercilessness. His roiling emotions spurred him to repeat these spiteful acts against anyone who got in his way. It was the only way he knew of how to vent these overwhelming emotions that made him feel like he was choking on his grief.
It took Nahida’s interference to calm him down and get through to him that you wouldn’t want him to be like this. The Wanderer you fell in love with wasn’t such a hateful person driven by negative emotions, and though he was loathe to admit it, the God of Wisdom was right.
Having quelled the initial burst of wounded anger, Wanderer would think more clearly about what he should do from now on. He could keep all your items, photographs, and letters, but they would never replace you, only help preserve some of the memories attached to them, which a puppet like him had no need for. He won’t forget even the smallest thing about you, not as long as he’s alive.
Wanderer becomes a regular visitor of your grave, taking care of it so your name won’t be erased from the gravestone by time too quickly. He would frequently bring your favorite foods and flowers and place them in front of your grave, before taking a seat next to it and staring off into the distance without saying a word. He did this mostly at night so he could stargaze, just like how you both used to when you were alive.
Even centuries later, when everyone who knew you took their memories of you to their graves, Wanderer will remain to watch over your final resting place, unwavering in his devotion.
🐺 Wriothesley
You accompanied Wriothesley on another one of his swims out in the open waters surrounding the Fortress. Since you weren’t a vision holder, you had to wear a diving suit to breathe, unlike your beloved Duke. You’ve had these private little swim dates a few times before, so your guard was down when you swam through some jagged areas of the Fortress’s scaffolding. The shoulder of your diving suit caught on a sharp edge of metal and tore a hole in it. The tear was fairly large, and you panicked when you felt water rush inside your suit. Wriothesley was quick to freeze the hole and pull you up to the surface to get the suit off of you, but by the time he did, it was too late. You had inhaled too much water and were unresponsive. Wriothesley tried to keep his anxiety at bay and utilized all the CPR knowledge he learned from Sigewinne to try and save your life. He breathed air into your lungs and did chest compressions with enough force to hear your ribs crack, but even after 30 agonizing minutes of trying, you wouldn’t wake up.
Wriothesley had no choice but to accept the fact you died. Wriothesley doesn’t cry for you. He’s no stranger to death. His exposure to it in his younger years made him all too aware of how easy it is to die, and that death came for all without exception. As a result, he was able to accept your death a little easier than most, but it doesn’t mean he made peace with it. The staff and inmates at the Fortress all said Wriothesley looked the same as usual even after your death. He kept up his laidback yet intimidating demeanor and busied himself with the variety of work someone in his position was required to take care of. Only Sigewinne could tell that Wriothesley was not alright despite all the strained smiles he gave everyone. The bags under his eyes grew more prominent by the day, a clear indicator he wasn’t sleeping well. She saw how he threw himself into his work, barely taking any time to rest properly, as if wanting to keep his mind busy from the horrible memory of seeing your corpse. Though he tried to mask it, in truth, your death affected Wriothesley deeply. He had frequent nightmares about watching you drown and being unable to save you, and they would keep him up at night. He usually awoke in a cold sweat, his heart pounding from intense panic and dread until his mind cleared, only to be replaced with a stone-cold reality that made the feelings of guilt come rushing back. Out of habit, he turns to your side of the bed to seek comfort in your presence but seeing it cold and empty served as yet another harsh reminder that you were gone. Wriothesley can’t sleep after his nightmares, so he opts to work out or fuss over his gauntlets to distract himself from his feelings. It takes all his self-control to keep a lid on his emotions and not become the angry, irritable mess he knows he will be if he’s not careful.
When he makes tea, Wriothesley accidentally makes two cups out of habit. One for you and one for him. Even weeks after your passing, it was still a difficult habit to break. For the first while, Wriothesley would even stop drinking your favorite tea blend because it reminded him of you. Rather than enjoy the flavor, all he tastes is bile in his throat. The flavor of your favorite tea makes him nauseous because it makes him think about how you will never taste this again or have another tea date in his office.
There was one occasion when he tried to drink your tea shortly after your death. He thought maybe the flavor would remind him of the happy times he shared with you, but all it resulted in was a broken teacup from the force of his grip, and Sigewinne fussing over his cuts and burns. He didn’t drink your favorite blend for a long time after that, only being able to find enjoyment in it again many years later when the startlingly clear memory of your death didn’t hurt him as much. Wriothesley felt lonely without you. You were the friend and confidant he told his deepest and darkest secrets about his past, the comfort he sought after a difficult day, and the soothing presence that made him feel accepted for who he was without all the embellished titles. But after your passing, the Fortress of Meropide seemed cold and gloomy, as if devoid of the warmth it once had that made him call it home. It was as if your death snuffed out the little ray of warm sunshine he felt when spending time with you.
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maplesyrupsainz · 2 months
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˖⁺。˚⋆˙obsessed with u | LN4 ˖⁺。˚⋆˙
pairing: lando norris x ln4 admin/photographer!reader y/n (she/her)
genre: social media au, new relationship
warnings: none just a lot of fluff!!
summary: in which a podium means you and your boyfriend hard launch a little bit early <3
a/n: omg i feel like this fanfic revived me and im back fr 🙏 hope it's ok OMG i rly tried to make a good plot but i fear i got no inspo atm anyway i fancy lando soooo badly atm it's rly shocking how bad i want him anyway ENJOY!!!! hope it dont suck ballzzz ahhhhhhhh
request!!!: lando x reader smau where reader is the admin of the Instagram account lnfour. You absolutely have the liberty of what you wanna do with it
fc: various blonde girls from pinterest
my masterlist
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landonorris posted a story
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user1 stop soft launching and tell us who she issss
user2 need details
user3 👀 mr lando norris plz spill
carlossainz55 cute
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yourbff ugh lil cuties
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user4 so cute
friend1 aww look at you guys
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lnfour 📍 melbourne, australia
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lnfour ready for the weekend 🦘
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user5 any sign of the gf then? 👀
user6 i love y/n's photographyyy
user7 same she's got the female gaze downnnn
user8 he's so hot
liked by lnfour
user9 admin leak who his gf is to us plz xxx
user10 i have a good feeling about this weekend's race 🙏
lnfour us too!!! 🕯️
interview ->
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twitter ->
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instagram ->
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lnfour anyone else hoping for a big reveal this weekend then?
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carlossainz55 yes, me
lnfour 😂
user16 HELLOOO???
user17 urm wait guys hear me out
user18 let me guess you think he's dating y/n
user17 👀
user19 who is y/n omg im losttttt
user20 literally lnfour admin and photographer lol
landonorris 🤷‍♀️
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user21 STRESSSS
user22 heart palpitations
yourusername posted a story
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landonorris damn who's that sexy man
yourusername 🙄
user23 HMMMM
user24 lando & y/n dating???
user25 that your man?
yourbff stop coz they're connecting the dots y/n
yourusername what dots?!!!
yourusername
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yourusername it's race day mi amigos
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user26 mi amigos... muchos debris... they're meant to be perhaps
user27 some of you are reaching doesn't y/n have a bf already?
user28 she's been soft launching but nothing is confirmed so it could be anyone 👀
landonorris keep me in your thoughts and prayers
yourusername 😂 always!
user29 they're in love
user30 dramatic much
user31 wouldn't it be weird for lando to date someone he works with 😭
oscarpiastri let's goooooo
yourusername 💪
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lnfour 💪💪💪💪💪💪 you got this
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user32 URM HELLOOOO
user33 hi y/n
user34 hmmmmmmmm
user35 this is a big enough reveal to me .. 😇
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user36 🤞🤞🤞🤞
user37 we're gonna win babyyyyyyy
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lnfour 🧡🧡🧡
user38 AHHHHHHHHHHH
user39 our boyyy
user40 big reveal when?
yourusername so proud
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user41 p1 next time
twitter ->
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carlossainz55 so cute of him
yourusername CONGRATULATIONS CARLOS ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
user42 are you going to celebrate together
user43 AWWWW HE'S SO CUTE
charles_leclerc a handsome boy
yourusername 😊😊😊😊
oscarpiastri you'll come out celebrating with us?
yourusername wouldn't miss it for the world
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user44 she's such a wag without even being a wag
user45 love her
user46 oh to be in this friend group 😭
user47 she's so mother
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user48 IS THAT Y/N AND LANDO
user49 lando and y/n omg??
user50 OMG?????
landonorris delete
yourusername delete
*this story has been deleted*
twitter ->
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yourusername not hiding it anymore then?
landonorris guess not 👀
yourbff AHHHHHH ily guys
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user56 scream
user57 BIG REVEAL?!
lnfour
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lnfour this weekend hit different
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user58 YEA I BET IT DID
user59 just missing charles!!!!
user60 i love lando and carlos' friendship sm
user61 interesting
user62 not her acting like nothing is going on 😝
user63 WE KNOW
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yourusername hits different cause it's u
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user64 peep oscar
lilyzneimer pretty couple 🫶
liked by landonorris, yourusername
user65 omgggg mclaren wag bffs
alexandrasaintmleux ily y/n
yourusername ilysm❤️🧡
yourbff GORGEOUS COUPLE
liked by yourusername, landonorris
user66 omg im so excited
user67 best big reveal ever
landonorris wow. look at u
yourusername donttttt. you'll make me blush 😭
user68 i love them omg
landonorris posted a story
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user69 AHHH TERRITORIAL LANDO YES PLSSS
user70 god she's hot
yourusername NOOO I SAID STOP I'LL BLUSH😭😭😭😭😭
landonorris you think i dont want that???!
yourusername obsessed with u omg
landonorris obsessed with u a lot more trust
THE END 🧡
1K notes · View notes
caxde · 1 month
Text
lovingsomeone | steddie x reader
summary: Eddie's got a crush on you, Steve's got a crush on you, and you're not sure who you like. A school dance and a summer party help you figure things out. (9.3k)(srry i got carried away)
warnings: smut! 18+ mdni use of alcohol and weed, afab reader, p in v sex, masturbation, oral sex and overall teenage horniness. Steve being overconfident and Eddie being a nervous wreck.
a/n: I did a first part to it answering a request and kept writing, so i put it all together! enjoy<3 english is not my first language!
“So, will you actually say something to her this time?” Robin teased Eddie for the hundredth time. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snapped back, shaking his head as he overly enunciated every word, trying desperately to not blush at the thought of you. 
“Sure you don’t.” She breathed out, pushing her head back. 
Robin had always been preceptive, even more so when it came to her best friends. Maybe that’s why Robin had no problem when it came time to figure out what was going on. 
She was the first -and maybe only one- to catch Eddie’s lips opening, the clenched fists, the way he always tried to make you laugh or how he looked fastly over at you everytime something funny happened, just so he could see you smile. 
It wasn’t long after when she clocked Steve doing something similar. Steve would always fix his hair before talking to you, he took a step closer than he had to when he was talking to you, his hand lingered when he passed something to you. Most importantly, Steve was a big flirt, and Robin could tell it was working. 
She still was unsure about you. 
She had caught you looking at Eddie when he was deep into a story, your eyelids half closed, as if you were daydreaming about him, and she was sure she had seen you bite your lower lip after looking at his neck. 
But today you had called Steve an idiot with a dumb smile, a playful touch to his chest that had left your cheeks with a pinkish hue, only made worse when Steve grabbed your hand so he could make you twirl to the sound of the music emanating from his car before he left when he dropped you both off. 
Robin was now sitting outside the car park, with an Eddie who was lost into you. 
Eddie couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, and the way your hair moved as you walked closer to them. 
“You’re doing okay?” She asked with an eyebrow raised, as she schotched over so you’d sit next to her as you always did. 
Eddie didn’t even look up, he just grabbed the chocolate bar he had in his pocket, for exactly that reason, handing it over to you. 
“You don’t have to.” Your voice came out all shy, a soft smile as you looked at the colorufull wrapper that laid right in his hands. 
“I know.” Eddie muttered, nodding his head at you, the usual grin he had only for you appearing on his face. 
“Thanks Eds.” You managed to say, grabbing it and biting it. 
Robin rolled her eyes as soon as she saw Eddie focusing on the way your lips opened, stifling a laugh as she shook her head. Both of you are oblivious to the way the other feels.
“Are we still going to the dance tonight?” You asked, breaking the small moment of silence that had formed. 
“Is it tonight?” Eddie asked, his usual teasing tone in his voice every time this topic came up. 
“Yes…” You squinted your eyes at him, knowing he’d smile as soon as he saw you. 
“Yeah, we’ll be here.” Robin confirmed, standing up from the little curbside she had settled into. “Can you give me a ride, Eds?” She asked, tussing her hair in the middle of the question. 
“Uh, sure. D’you need a ride, dove?” Eddie was embarrassed as soon as he muttered the nickname he tried, recomforted by the way you seemed to be pleased by it. 
“I think Steve’s picking me up.” You felt a bit guilty saying it, made worse by Eddie pressing his lips together, followed by a short nod as he went to find his van. 
“Okay, what’s the deal?” Robin had had enough of playing detective. She needed to know what was going through your mind. 
“What do you mean?” You scrunch your nose, not really wanting to know if she was asking what you thought she meant. 
“Oh come on! Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve has a crush on you, you..?” She left the question open, wanting you to finish it with an answer, instead you got all flustered, standing up straight in a fast motion, trying to make sense of what she had just said. 
“Eddie doesn’t have a crush on me! Neither does Steve, he’s just being nice… And I just, they’re both…” 
“Hot?” 
“Shut up…” You punched her on her shoulder, a giggle escaping both of your lips. “They both treat me so well, and they’re kind and yeah… they’re hot.” 
Robin couldn’t help but laugh, and neither could you, it only made it worse when Robin suggested that if you played your cards right, you might see Paris. 
It continued until Steve’s car stopped next to you. 
Steve stepped out, fixing his hair in a movement that made you wish you could be the one fixing it. His other hand held a small gathering of wild flowers, with pink carnations sticking out of them. Robin's mouth opened wide, as she saw how Steve moved closer to you, looking nervous. 
“Hi.” You chirped, as soon as he stood right in front of you, his feet almost touching yours. 
“Hi.” He stuttered a bit, his nervous energy made evident. He gave a quick glance at Robin, who just nodded, stepping back a bit. “I uh… I know this might be cheesy but, these are for you–” He stopped talking when your fingers brushed his, the same feeling he always had invading your body. An electricity, a warmness that was hard to explain. 
“They are lovely… Why…?” The sweetest tone that could be heard as a melody came out of your lips, and Steve could live in it for an eternity. 
“I… I kinnda wanna take you to the dance, if you’re okay with it.” He begged, a faint trace on it on his tone, as he stepped a bit closer, your feet between his opened legs. His eyes locked into yours, you were a goner as soon as you looked at him and the way his lips curved a bit more on the right than they did on the left. 
“Like a date?” You echoed, a glimpse of hope evident enough that his teeth were now showing when he smiled as he nodded. “I’d love to.” 
Steve caressed your cheek as he reached to hold your hand, walking you to his car as he opened the door for you, he was still going to drive you home. 
Unlucky for Eddie, he had seen the whole thing, and Robin said nothing, just waited for him to start the car. 
-
You and Robin were supposed to get picked up by Steve, who was supposed to pick Eddie up. 
It did happen, only that the tension in the car between both boys could be felt, even from outside and with the windows rolled up. 
No music was playing on the radio, Steve was grabbing the steering wheel a bit harder than he needed to -his knuckles turning white- whilst Eddie kept playing with his index finger, one swipe left, two swipes right. 
Eddie wanted to talk, to ask Steve is he was serious about it, but the smell of aftershave was intoxicating enough to confirm he was. 
As soon as the car stopped, Eddie looked at the wooden doors of Robin’s house, and the way Steve walked them up with such confidence -even if he was just faking it, he was nervous about it all going well, so much so he hadn’t even realised he drove over with no music on- he left a knock on the door, for it to open shortly after. 
You were truly breathtaking. 
Red had never looked that good. The dress hugged your chest, a flowy skirt dropping from your waist, your arms decorated with the same red colour as what looked like a scarf fell from them. Your hair was out of your face, your eyes shined a bit more, your lips looked pinker, juicier. He was losing his mind. 
It only hurt a bit more when he realised he had his hand out, waiting for yours to fit in it, but you moved past him, accepting Steve’s instead, as he twirled you around, praising you, telling you just how good you looked. A shower of compliments Eddie was also thinking, but couldn’t articulate. He just stared at the floor, only looking up when he felt Robin’s touch on his shoulder, a look of compassion held between the both of them. 
Nobody would blame you, or the hyperfixation you had all of a sudden with the way Steve’s neck looked, the red tie wrapping around it, contrasting with the white shirt. What was worse, you had never realised just how many moles and freckles Steve’s skin had, the one that laid where his jaw met his neck was particularly driving you insane. You danced the night away, mostly it was the four of you in a little circle, chatting and drinking whatever was inside the punch. Steve’s hands only found your waist when a slow song played. His thumbs grabbed you a bit too hard, in a way that he knew immediately why you bit your lower lip, and in response your hands were behind his neck, your nails tracing a patron in his skin, tugging his hair slightly. He grinned, chuckled and made you laugh, his eyes shining, looking at yours. You had never seen such beauty in brown until now. 
Maybe you did like Steve, and maybe he did like you. 
Eddie went outside. As soon as he saw you biting your lip, his hands on your waist, yours in his hair, he needed some air. 
He wished it were him. He wasn’t as fancy as Steve was, he had a white shirt under his uncle's old muted brown shirt. He struggled to remember in which pocket he put the Marlboro's away. He had been fidgeting with his lighter for a while, needing, craving a moment of silence. 
He was almost done smoking as he felt sorry for himself, when he heard the doors opening, the sudden music became clear for those brief seconds. 
He turned around, seeing you walking towards him with the biggest smile he had seen in your face for a while. 
For a brief moment, he forgot he was hurt. 
“You do look beautiful Moon” You told him as soon as you reached him, your body next to his, snatching the half smoked cigarette that he had in between his fingers. 
He scoffed, turning his whole body to look at you, he saw the way you smiled up at him, you were being sincere which was only just as hurting as you dancing with him had been. 
“Beautiful?” He questioned, a slight teasing on his tone as he inched closer, breathing in the smoke you let out, stealing the cigarette back. 
“Yeah, beautiful handsome Eddie.” You uttered, the faint smell of alcohol left your mouth, Eddie scrunch his nose. 
“You’re drunk?” 
“No, only had one drink. But you’ve been moody, I miss you in there.” You chirped back, your usual playful tone didn’t make him smile, not even grin. You got worried right there and then. Your hand reaching for his, trying to pull him back into the party. 
“I’m sure you’ll have a great time.” He implied, nodding at Steve who was just now opening the door, looking for you with a lovesick grin on his face. 
“What’s going on?” You weren’t sure what you had done to leave him in such a state, he seemed hurt, his words colder than they had even been. 
“Nothing.” Eddie lied, you hated lies. 
Something in you clicked, as you saw the way Steve smiled you, a contradiction to Eddie’s pursed lips as his jawline looked sharper than it ever did. 
Robin’s words echoed in your head Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve’s got a crush on you. 
“Well, next time have the courage to ask me out before someone else does…” You snapped back, your arms crossing over your chest, a protective stance taking hold of you as you stepped back. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He shook his head, his hair brushing against his face, an apologetic look on his eyes that made you want to cry. 
“It means don’t just suppose nobody will want me, am I supposed to wait for you forever?” 
Eddie couldn’t quite believe that declaration, knowing now you might also have some feeling for him, but he was a little too late. You sniffled your nose, shaking your head, your hair flowing everywhere. “Forget it.” You declared, leaving the little bubble you were in. 
You walked over to Steve, and he just looked at you, the smile he had turned as soon as he saw the way your eyes were crystalizing, menacing with tears. He cupped your cheeks with his hands. 
You gave in, your body hitting his, Eddie just saw the way your shoulders moved up and down. 
You were crying now. 
“Honey…” Steve begged as he took you in his arms. “Do you want to leave?” 
“I’m sorry.” You whispered back, feeling warmer in his arms, the coldness of Eddie’s words brushing away with the closeness of Steve’s body. 
“Don’t be. We can go anywhere you want. As long as I’m with you I’m happy.” He blurted, his eyes looking at yours, his thumbs brushing out the tear that came out of them. 
“Are you sure?” 
“‘curse I am.” He added, a smile returning to his lips, before he kissed the crown of your head. “I can also drop you off.” He offered, you shook you head. 
“I don’t wanna be alone.” You answered, your voice still barely above a whisper. 
“That’s fine, you wanna go for a walk?” He replayed instead, taking your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. 
As soon as you nodded he started walking. He didn’t push for you to talk, he didn’t try to make assumptions, but of course he did. 
The last he had seen was you talking with Eddie. Steve had always thought that Eddie was beautiful, he had a magnetic pull with people that was hard to explain, and he also knew that Eddie was sharp with his words. So he gave you enough time to gather your thoughts. 
“I do like you…” You confessed, your tone remaining low and soft as you spoke, looking at the ground, not confident enough to look at him right now. 
“I like you too.” He gleamed with pride, though he thought that much was obvious. 
“I… I figured that out with the flowers.” You recalled, as a shiver from the cold air made you shake a bit. 
Steve wasted no second, his tuxedo jacket laying on your shoulders now. 
“The flowers gave me away?” He teased, a short chuckle in the back of his throat. “It wasn’t my constant offer to drive you anywhere?” He admitted with a defeated laugh. 
“I thought you were being nice.” You admitted, still not looking at him, much more interested in the way your shoe made contact with the ground beneath your feet. 
“I was. I also have this crush on you.” The word sended shivers down your spine. 
“Robin says Eddie also has a crush on me.” That when you looked up, seeing a defeated nod from Steve only confirmed it. “I… I don’t know what to do.” 
“I don’t wanna tell you what to do, but… while you figure it out, can I defend my case?” He pleaded, his waist bumping into yours, his finger under your chin. He was being brave, he was finally taking his chance. 
As soon as you nodded, and your lips parted, your eyes darting between his eyes and his lips, a neediness that became clear as you realised what was about to happen, Steve got closer. Close enough to breathe the same air as you, his mouth a whisper away from yours, enjoying that tension that had formulated in the air. He was enjoying that bit of power, feeling how bad you wanted him. You were the one to finally close the distance, and he was ecstatic about it. He took his time, his lips moving gracefully against yours, your hands tugging the back of his neck, one of his was lost in the space between your neck and your jawline, applying a pressure that made you moan against his lips, thought maybe that was due to the way his other hand was grabbing your waist, his fingers would leave a mark, that much was clear. 
As soon as you break off the kiss, the lovesick smile on both of your faces was evident. 
“That was…” He muttered, left speechless by your kisses, needing more of them. 
“You are a good kisser.” You slightly teased him back, recalling the rumors about him in a joyful manner. 
He kissed you a lot more after that, having to stop walking in the middle of the road as you went to find his car. 
Robin saw it, and decided it was best if she kept her mouth shut this time, but she did overhear the last thing Steve whispered to you before going back into the car. “I don’t mind sharing, you can figure out whatever you need, honey.” 
She already saw the headache coming, and really regretted that Eddie didn’t see the way your cheeks flustered at the idea of being with him for a while. 
2.9
-
-
“Babe, can you help me?” You cried out, the sun hitting you a bit too hard, you started to feel your skin burning if you weren’t careful. 
“Sure, be with you in a second.” Steve adds, gleaming at the sound of your voice calling him such a pretty nickname. Him and Robin were a bit busy, stacking the small cooler with every kind of beer and seltzer they could name, topping it with ice so it would stay cold during the hot summer’s day. The first of many to come. 
The pool had been officially opened, and with that, the usual invasion of the Harrington household started. This year however, Steve decided to throw a little party, so it wouldn’t be a surprise gathering at his house. 
Robin still hadn’t said anything about what she heard at prom, and she intended to keep it that way, she was having fun watching, as you struggled to operate. 
Steve came over, sitting behind you, a little kiss on your shoulder letting you know he was all yours for now. You passed him the sunscreen, it smelt like coconut and vanilla, as he spread it on your back and shoulders, he took the opportunity to be a bit more handsy than he needed to. He started massaging your back, knowing the effect it had on you, as he heard the stifled groan on the back of your throat, quiet enough that he’d be the only one to hear it. Once he reached the lower part of your back, he spent way too much time in it, tracing patterns that had no meaning besides getting your body closer, and closer to his crotch, moving you a bit so you’d feel the way it grew against your butt cheeks. You looked back at him, over your shoulder, to see him smiling, that stupid smile that let you know just how much he wanted you, now and everyday. You shook your head, laying on his chest with enough mischievousness to let your cheeks hold his bulge between them, you felt him breathe out in a needy manner, right against your cheek. He gave you a kiss on your lips, his hand now caressing your stomach, fully visible thanks to the white bikini you chose to wear. 
“Not while we have company, Harrington.” You whispered into his ear once his lips parted from yours. He groaned, deciding to just hold you tightly, his head buried where your neck met your shoulder, leaving wet kisses in that spot he knew you liked. 
“I told you… I don’t mind sharing.” He recalled the conversation you had about your curly haired friend he knew you had a crush on, even if you evidently liked him. 
“Shush.” You dismissed him, holding his face near yours, a kiss left on his lips, as you bit his lower one. “Let’s just stay here until the others come?” You pleaded, not wanting to think about it, not really ready to think about Eddie coming here right now. 
He answered with another kiss against your sun kissed skin, decidedly staying like this. Enjoying each other’s presence, soft touches and caresses. 
The last few weeks with Steve had been amazing, but Eddie had grown cold as soon as he heard that you seemingly had made your choice, even if you were far from it. 
Steve's words didn’t help. 
In your mind, Steve seemed excited with the idea of you making out, or whatever it was with his friend, as long as you kept doing it with him. It was a dangling temptation, a dream, a forbidden fruit that had all of a sudden become edible. 
You weren’t sure how much time had passed, you just knew Steve’s fingers were too busy tracing little drawings on your lower stomach, dangerously close to the edge of the thong that was part of your two piece. When all of a sudden your eyes opened from the noise that was coming out of the house. Eddie had arrived, accompanied by Nancy and Jonathan. The couple came out first. 
“Hey lovebugs!” Nancy screamed, her usual upbeat tone making Steve open his eyes, he waved back, you did the same movement, which made her chuckle. 
Eddie followed them closely, even in such warm weather, he still had his blue jeans on, only this time his white tank top let his arms out on the sun, you got lost in him for just a second. 
Eddie avoided your stare, got lost in your body instead. Robin clocked the way he swallowed, his muscles in his neck tensing as he tried not to look too much. It was hard, since he knew he could be the one holding you as near as he desired. 
Jonathan grabbed two beers, and offered one to Eddie, he felt compassion for him, just like Robin, he was used to being observant, and had known about Eddie’s feelings for a while, and he had been in the same situation, only he had a bit more luck. 
The moment came where you decided to finally jump into the water, all of your friends deciding they wanted to stay dry, watching you as you floated in the pool. 
You were pretty good at knowing who was staring, even if they had the same coloured eyes, Eddie’s and Steve’s staring felt different. Eddie’s was full of regret, he had wanted to talk to you ever since you left the dance, Steve’s was full of hunger -at least while you looked like that, skin wet, and your hair framing your face in a way he’d call heavenly if asked.- though if you were honest, you felt a trace of desire in Eddie’s eyes everytime yours met. 
Robin had enough of that show, and even if she promised to herself she wouldn’t say anything, she needed to talk to someone, so she did. 
“Nance, can you help me get some wine?” She asked, a lift of the eyebrow and she understood she needed to speak to her. 
“Sure.” She added before following her into the house. 
Eddie and Jonathan stayed there, grinding some weed for later. Steve looked at them, and stood up, walking to the edge of the pool, sitting on it, waiting for you to come. 
Robin started rumbling as soon as they reached the kitchen. 
“I need to tell you something, but you can’t say anything. But if I don’t tell it to someone I’m gonna lose my mind” She was talking in a fast-paced manner that let Nancy know just how much she had been needing to talk. 
“Jesus okay. Breathe.” She said, pushing her shoulders down. “Now, shoot.” 
“I overhead the new couple at the prom.” She started, waiting for a nod from Nancy so she could continue. “Steve told her that he knows about Eddie’s feelings, and that he’s okay sharing? What does that even mean? Has he ever said something like that to you? Do you think… Maybe Steve wants to…?” 
Nancy’s eyes opened wide, at the amount of information and preceding questions she asked, her head working overtime to keep up with her friend. 
“He’s okay sharing as in…” 
“I think he wants her to make a move or something, so she can know for sure she wants to be with him but that’s just…” She didn’t dare to finish the sentence, not without implying something she’d hate for people to imply about herself. 
“Steve really has changed.” Nancy over enunciated, raising her eyebrows as she looked over for the wine. Robin erupted in laughter. 
“What do you think I should do?” She implored now, stepping in closer to her, grabbing some glasses for the white wine. 
“You? Nothing. I’m sure Eddie’ll catch on soon enough.” She pointed out, as she started to head out. “He’s practically drooling everytime she looks at her.” She joked as Robin chuckled, following her closely. 
At the same time, Jonathan looked at Eddie, and how concentrated he was on grinding the weed so he could smoke it. He knew Eddie was feeling a bit overwhelmed, and he knew how much it could help, so he stayed put, waiting for him to finish. 
“Look dude, I don’t really know you that much but uh… You’ve got something in your mind.. If you need to uh.. talk it out…” He offered, feeling incredibly embarrassed by that leap he was making, knowing Eddie had the right to blow him off. 
He didn’t. He looked up, nodding with a half smile as he mouthed a thanks. He looked over at Steve walking closer to you and the sense of urgency came back. 
“Pass me the paper, please?” He babbled, as his hand reached out. Grabbing it and starting to roll what would -hopefully- calm him down. “I just… I fucked it up.” He added, nodding at you, and the way you smiled as soon as you saw Steve. 
“Why’d you say that?” 
“She told me if she was supposed to wait for me forever, next thing I know, she’s kissing Steve.” He sputtered, a trace of hurt could still be felt on his voice. Jonathan gave him a reassuring touch on his shoulder. 
“That’s Steve… Though to be fair… You shouldn’t lose hope.” He recomforted him, looking at Nancy as she came back, a smile on his face. 
Talking of Steve he found his way to you. His legs on the water, moving it slightly, the waves hitting your body. You looked over at him, a smile wide on his face. 
You swam closer to him, instead of laying against the granite that circled the pool, you let your arms rest on his thigh, looking up at him with dreamy eyes. 
“Hi.” You beamed at him, the softness of your tone made him get even more lost into you. 
“Hi.” He echoed, one of his hands cupping your cheek, you gave in to the touch. “You should get out, Nancy went to get your favourite wine.”  You smiled deeply at him, he really did care for you. 
“Going.” You whisper as you find your way to the stairs, pushing your head down one last time, so the hair wouldn’t annoy you. 
Eddie caught that. And the way you walked out of the pool was enough for his cock to push against his zipper. He crossed his legs, enjoying the show a bit more, as he lit the joint he had been preparing. He got a bit lost, especially on the way your hair not only framed your face, but your breasts, that seemed to shine as water dropped out of them. It didn’t help that you were wearing white, he was going to lose his mind. 
Only this time, Steve caught him, a cheeky grin appearing on his face as he made eye contact with Eddie, who became flustered. Steve just nodded, and mouthed its fine. Eddie had never been more confused. 
“We’ve got your wine!” Robin cheered, as she raised a glass to you. You took a good sip of it, the lightness of it invading your mouth, a smile left on your lips. 
“Cheers.” You added, taking another taste. “I’ll just go change really quick.”You excused yourself, bending down a bit so you could put your drink down. It was torture for Eddie, who was trying extremely hard not to be too evident, but right now he just felt you were starting to tease him, bending over when that little fabric was covering you. 
Maybe you were. 
It was intoxicating, knowing that you did have that power over both of them. While Eddie was a bit too lost in your behind, Steve got lost in your chest, even if he was more taken aback with the eye contact you liked to keep. You walked slowly back into the house, up the stairs to the left where Steve’s room was. You grabbed one of his oversized white shirts, and a pair of faded, soft, basketball shorts that were too short on him, yet perfect for you. You found your way to the downstairs bathroom, knowing that you could hang your bikini there until it dries off, and that no one would really know -or care- if you were wearing underwear or not. 
You left the door ajar, it would only take a moment. 
The top part was changed in a swift movement, so was the down one. 
You looked at yourself in the mirror, your hair becoming a tangled mess, it would only get worse if you didn’t brush it off soon. You looked for one, something, anything, unsuccessfully. 
The door opened all of a sudden. Eddie was there, an apologetic look on his face. 
“Sorry, thought nobody was here.” He pleaded, as he started to close the wooden door. 
“It’s fine, I’m just looking for a hairbrush, then I’ll leave.” You tried to explain to him, not really wanting him to leave, fully aware that those were the first words you’ve exchanged. 
“You won’t reach it.” Eddie mumbled, walking back in. He closed the door, and opened the cabinet that was higher up, grabbing a little box that had various different combs on it. He grabbed the one that was better for your hair and looked at you. “D’you want me to…?” He gestured with his hands, up and down, a brushing motion. 
You nodded, your back now facing him, as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Eddie looked back at you, your eyes meeting on the reflective surface. He pursed his lips, the high made everything feel ten times more intense. It was intoxicating enough being near you, getting to be this close to you made it hard for him to concentrate. 
You kept looking at him, and every move he made, the tension that was getting created in that little space growing larger and larger. A sense of electricity, of magnetism pulling you in closer, close enough that your waist touched his. He breathed out loudly, knowing this was getting a bit too much. But the small tugging in his pants only made your lip quiver with more confidence, he wanted this just as much as you did. You got on your tip-toes for a moment, just to go slowly down, your butt graceing his crotch slowly. You could see the way his eyes shut down for that moment, how his mouth opened, how his hands grabbed your hair and the brush harder, trying not to say anything. It was intoxicating. He finished brushing your hair, and he let the comb hit the floor. You made eye contact through the mirror once again, as he breathed in that loud manner again, shaking his head at you, struggling to let something out of his lips. 
“Dove… I…” He tried, your hands already on the back of his neck, pushing him in against you, you needed to feel him, as near as you could. 
“I do like you.” You confessed in between whispers, your fingers tugging his hair. “I just… I’m confused.” You admitted, your hips had started a little pattern, grinding against his crotch. A needines was beating on your chest, traveling all the way down to where you made contact with him. 
“Fuck…” And with that you knew what was coming. 
Eddie let out a moan out of hornyness and anger. He had wanted you for so long, he would be an idiot if he didn’t at least give you a kiss. 
Just one kiss, he told himself. 
His hands grabbed your waist tightly, turning you so you’d finally look at his eyes, not at a mirror, the brown of them almost gone, a hunger you were experiencing just as much as he was. Even if he was dying for more, he started kissing your cheek, a trembling hand grabbing your butt, messaging it, your leg lifting on instinct, pushing his crotch with yours, the feeling of the zipper messing with you, the soft fabric not protecting you much. He kept kissing your neck, and the little zone behind your ear, leaving soft moans every time his mouth left your skin. Once you were drunk on him, he cupped your face with one hand, the other still holding your butt firmly, and finally let your lips touch. You became one in that moment, your waist still moving, your hands scratching his back in an attempt to obtain more. You needed to drink every single drop of him. His hand started teasing at your behind, a smile when he noticed the lack of underwear, and just how sensitive you were. If he pushed the short upwards, the fabric touched you in a way that made you whimper. 
It wasn’t fair, you also deserved to play. 
Your hands left his back, travelled to his crotch, undoing the belt in a swift movement. The sound of the belt buckle made him snap back. 
That was more than one kiss. 
“We can’t…” He said, pulling strength from somewhere, he wasn’t sure where. 
“Steve doesn’t mind.” You tried to make him understand, unsuccessfully. 
“If I was him, I would want you all to myself.” 
-
The sun was setting, Nancy was half asleep into Jonathan’s arms, Robin was a bit too inebriated, laughing at every small detail she saw. 
It wasn’t difficult. 
When you came out of the bathroom, a flustered Eddie followed you minutes after. Steve looked at you with a puzzled look, and you just nodded. 
Now you were sitting between them both. 
Jonathan looked at Steve’s grip on your thigh, while your pinky was grabbing Eddie’s. He opened his eyes as soon as he understood. He gave Eddie a quick look, he just nodded in quiet disbelief. 
“I think we should go.” Jonathan said in a soft-spoken voice, brushing Nancy’s hair. 
“I’m way too wasted to drive.” Eddie muttered in response, a cheap excuse everyone noticed. He wasn’t ready to leave. 
Jonathan offered his hand, Eddie’s van keys fell onto his palm. 
“Okay then, we’ll go.” He stood up, helping Nancy up, gesturing to Robin to follow him. She looked back at the three of you, she struggled to hide a chuckle. 
“Fine… au revouir!” She teased as soon as she looked at you, your cheeks getting that pinkish tone to them again. You hid your face behind your palm, begging she was the only one out of them that understood the stupid joke. The shocked giggle out of Steve’s lips let you know he got it too. 
“I’ll walk with you to the door.” Steve added, off-handedly. As soon as he stood up and took a couple of steps, he looked at you over his shoulder, the prettiest smile on his face. 
It was a do whatever you need, a i want you to do it, a please do it. 
The type of look that drove you insane. 
Eddie lit up another spliff, standing up, your eyes looking up at him, all doe-like. If only you could read his mind, he thought. 
“I think I’ll go for a swim.” You were unsure if it was an invitation, or if he just needed some space, a moment to think it all well. 
Truth be told, Eddie was curious about what you’d do now, once he took his shirt off, careful not to burn anything, smoke still coming out of his mouth, a delightful picture you would keep in your mind for a long time. 
You hadn’t seen him shirtless. 
It was a sight to see, you thought. You knew he had muscles, you didn’t know his were somehow more defined than Steve’s. His chest was pale, decorated with ink, your fingers suddenly tingling the urge to trace over them, especially the one he had near his hip bone. 
Eddie enjoyed seeing you like that, for once you were the one thirsting over his body, your mouth half opened, having trouble taking your eyes off his chest, while yours all of a sudden raised faster. Your breathing quickening. 
His back was also well defined, framed by his hair swinging a bit with every step he took, his curls bouncing in an hypnotizing manner. 
He sat down on the steps of the swimming pool, his waist submerged in the water. He smiled as soon as he heard your cautious steps approaching him. You sat near him, your body not in the water, only your legs, looking at his side profile. You could draw him from memory alone, you realised. He didn’t say anything, he just looked at you, his usual grin that always made you smile back. He offered the joint to you, you shook your head, a drink still in your hand. 
“We’re swimming?” Steve proposed at the sight of you two, already taking his shirt off. 
Before any of you could answer, he had already jumped into the water, swimming back in the middle of you, taking the offer of the spliff Eddie had in between his fingers with a shrug. 
“I’m not wearing uh…” Your eyes darted nervously at Eddie, and the memory of his fingers discovering it just a few minutes ago. He did the same, his hand twitching as he made eye contact with you. 
“I’m sure Eddie won’t care.” He assured, his tone dropping a bit. The husky tone hypnotising you. Steve looked at the curly headed boy waiting for a response. He just scratched his chin, looking back at you, his eyelids half closed. “See, he doesn’t.” He gestured back at him, getting a bit closer to you. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to” He whispered, needing you to know he meant it, the softness of his words made you know he was telling the truth. 
As soon as you felt Steve’s hand on your thigh, and how good the water droplets falling from them felt on your skin, you opened your legs, letting him gain access, his hands finding the hem of your shorts rapidly, pulling them down softly. 
Eddie was hypnotised by it. The way your legs looked, the look of devotion you had for Steve, how confident you seemed, the shy soft smile in your face as you were enjoying his touch against your skin as the shorts became a faint memory. He looked attentive as Steve’s hands reached the end of your shirt, how his lips kissed your knee, eyes closed, how a soft moan escaped your lips. He felt himself grow, no longer restricted by his jeans. The spliff long forgotten by your side, his full attention in how more parts of you were revealed, as Steve slowly took your shirt off. The first thing he saw was the curvature of your back, your stomach following it closely. When he saw your breasts under the sunset, he realised he had never been as hard. You shook your head as soon as the shirt was off, your hair flowing freely. Your hand caressing Steve’s face, inching closer to him, leaving a sound kiss on his lips. He was trying to repress the urge he had of touching himself, it felt like he was looking at a private show, just for him. 
Steve helped you into the water, his hands holding tightly onto your waist, pulling you in slowly. Enjoying the sound you made as water hitted your full body. He had only eyes for you. His nose touched yours, asking for permission to kiss you once again, his bare chest hitting yours, you were the one who broke the distance, pushing into him with the usual care. Steve’s lips were soft, fitted with yours perfectly, you thought. 
Eddie couldn’t take it anymore. He had to touch himself. It was pathetic, he thought, you were making out in front of him, and he needed to touch himself, feeling like if he didn’t take it out, it would just start to hurt, so he did. He grabbed the waistband of his swimsuit down, already stroking his dick in a slow movement, when all of a sudden, you made eye contact with him, while you were still kissing Steve. You broke the kiss, yet Steve kept kissing your neck, one of his hands already on the small of your back, pushing your entrance to his erection. You moaned at the sight of him, and Eddie’s movements deepened. 
“You wanna kiss her?” Steve asked as soon as he opened his eyes, seeing the way Eddie looked at you, his cock still out. “Come.” He invited him, with a quick shake of his head. “She really wants you to do so, Munson.” That did it for him, that and the fact that you moaned as soon as you heard his last name, though maybe that had more to do with the way Steve’s fingers were teasing you now. 
He didn’t really waste that much time, he took off his swimsuit before coming into the water, not caring about anything else but the way your eyes looked at him, needing him. You felt his dick on your stomach, the hardness of it coming into contact with you thanks to the short distance. Eddie’s hands didn’t shake now, he was decided. They held your face, coping your cheeks in the way he had hoped to do so for so long, breaking the distance, as your lips found each other. Your tongues touching, finally, both of you thought, as your hands reached for his body, as did his. 
Steve was still enjoying himself, touching you, feeling how you squirm under his touch, your legs shaking a bit as he kept teasing, your clit missing him everytime he messed around. 
Eddie couldn’t stop kissing you, he was enjoying it maybe a bit much. He had never tasted something better, and he never wanted to. He wished in between kisses to remember this sensation forever, your hands on his body, fingers buried deep into his skin, begging for more as you moaned into his mouth. 
Your hands were dangerously low, but it didn’t matter. 
A sharp gasp escaped your lips as you felt Steve’s fingers reaching inside you, moving them slowly, each movement deeper than the last. 
“Please.” You begged, looking up at Steve, his hand reaching for your neck, leaving a thigh squeez before he kissed your cheek. “Please.” You whimpered again, looking outside the pool. 
Eddie understood, and followed closely. Steve pushed your body up, you were now sitting on the stone that circled the pool, your body slowly hitted the ground, legs hanging from the edge, grabbing Eddie’s hand so you’d have him near, your hand started messing with his pelvic bone, a few brushes, caresses and he was already doing that loud breathing that proved to drive you insane. 
Steve didn’t waste no time, grabbing the back of your legs, pushing your body closer to the edge, leaving kisses on your knee, then your upper thigh, the inside of it, everywhere his lips had access to, while his hand got a bit busy feeling you, and the wetness of your entrance. 
Eddie brushed your hair behind your ear, before diving in for a kiss, his lips touching yours, just so he could have an excuse to start kissing your neck, hearing you make such pretty noises that close to his ear was something he never thought he would be able to. To be fair, he moaned as soon as your hand wrapped around his dick, starting the slow movement, he smiled in between kisses as you kept it going. 
The combination of it all; Eddie moaning your name that close to your ear, your whole body filled with goosebumps, as Steve started kissing your clit, it made you arch your back. 
“You’re sensitive today.” Steve teased, as his lips went back to the spot that was driving you mad, one of his fingers starting to make his way inside you, you felt him smile as he heard you moan at that. 
“Jesus sweetheart…” Eddie breathed out, a groan escaping the back of his throat, his voice was the lowest you had ever heard. “If you keep touching me like that, making those sounds…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence. 
He saw the way you smiled proudly at the praise, your teeth biting your lower lip, while you breathed heavily, he had to kiss you again, that way he knew you’d be moaning into eachothers’ mouths.
Once Steve had three fingers inside you, his movements finding the perfect pace, his mouth all over you, legs shaking while his head was in between he could tell you were close, Eddie’s hands stroking your body helping in that. Speaking of, he looked at him, he could also tell he was trying not to come, not yet. He stopped eating you out, his head resting on your tight. 
“You wanna…?” He asked you first, nodding to him. He could tell you did, just by the way your eyes shined as soon as he asked, he had to hide a giggle once he looked at Eddie who was concentrating on something else. 
“Edds” You begged, moaning his name. It made him tilt his head backwards a bit, your hand still tightly wrapped around his dick. “Can you fuck me?” He had to bite the inside of his lips so he wouldn't come right then. His hands grabbing your legs, turning your body to him, so your entrance would be at his level was enough confirmation. Before Eddie started, while he was admiring you in all your glory, you looked deep into Steve’s eyes, your hand finally dropping his swimsuit, stroking him. A hunger in your eyes before you asked “Can I?” 
He nodded. 
Then he looked around, knowing that it would be more comfortable for you if you were on the couch. 
“Inside.” He groaned, looking at you first, then turning to Eddie. 
Before you knew it, Eddie was sitting on the couch, too much in a hurry to care if it became a bit wet, his hands got lost in your waist, kissing the zone between your belly button and your cunt, your skin reacting to every touch, pulling you in softly, slowly. While Steve was next to you, his hand still touching your clit, getting you warmed up for Eddie, as your hand curved around his cock, stroking it. 
You noticed, while Eddie was longer, Steve was wider. Both of them large, though Eddie’s curved a bit, you knew that would be something you’d like, and you were eager to prove it to yourself. 
Your free hand touched Eddie’s chin, making him look up at you, his gaze into yours, lowering as you sat on top of him. 
You both moaned as he entered you, you made your way down slowly, fully wrapping around him, a sensation you were sure you could never forget. His hand grabbing your waist, guiding you gracefully. You left a quick kiss on his lips, before turning to find Steve. 
He waited for you to guide him, he knew just how overstimulating everything must be, as much as he wished for you to do something right now, he waited, patiently, stroking his own erection as he looked at you, and the way you bounced on top of Eddie’s cock. 
You pulled him in, his knees on the couch, his body sitting where the head usually rests, his hand petting your hair, you didn’t waste that much time, filling your mouth with him. 
“Honey…” He blurted, having trouble articulating words. “You’re taking both of us so well.” He praised, as he started to pull your hair, your head following the movements, effectively mouthfucking you at the pace he wished, a series of profanities falling from his mouth. 
“You really are.” Eddie added, his hands pulling you in deeper, your eyes closing out of pure pleasure, as his cock pushed into you, a rhythm you felt right in your stomach. 
Eddie couldn’t help himself, he started with just a thigh squeeze, just to end up slapping your ass, the sound of the clapping only turning you on faster. Eddie was so close, his arms wrapped around you, in complete devotion. You took a second, continuing to work on Steve with your hand to kiss Eddie, Steve’s precum still on your throat, but he didn’t care. He needed you there, his forehead against yours, his mouth moaning and half screaming your name. 
“I’m not gonna last long.” He said, drunk on you from head to toe. 
“I want you…” You started, having to gather some air before continuing, you could feel his dick ripping you deeper every time he reentered, his hand pushing you deeper into him every time you did. “To come, please, Eddie, please.” You ended begging in a whimper, that did it for him. 
You kissed him, before your head fell into his shoulder, biting him as you felt the way his muscles flexed around you, his head falling backwards.
“Shit” Eddie groaned as soon as he felt himself come, deep on you, looking deep in your eyes, a smile evident in them. Steve didn’t even think about it before doing it, once he made eye contact with him, his lips were on his, a soft kiss that needed to happen. Eddie’s hands still on the small of your back, Steve’s on the back of your neck. 
“Hot.” You whispered, making you all three laugh, breaking the soft tension that was in the air. 
You got off, Eddie groaned as he felt you leave, he didn’t want you to ever leave his side. You looked back at Steve, he knew what you wanted, no words needed. He nodded, before kissing you again, his hands pulling you a bit closer to him, before turning you over. 
Your stomach laid on the couch cushions, your ass high as he could get it, a sight he loved if he was honest, only this time your head rested on Eddie’s lap, while he brushed your head, Eddie’s brown eyes looking up at Steve, another sight to be seen he thought. He took a moment to take it in, before his hands grabbed your waist, helping them find his way inside you, a moan of pure delight as you felt him. You bite Eddie’s thigh, careful not to moan too loud. 
The sight of Steve fucking you, you trying desperately not to scream as he moved slowly, filling you up wider that he had, the small kisses and bites you were leaving on his skin were enough for him to get hard again, and you took that opportunity gladly, your tongue on the tip of his dick, licking tentatively, as you heard him groan at the feeling of you playing with him, his hands on his head, already overstimulated. Steve took that as what it was, and he went in harder, and harder, and harder. 
“That’s it, you’re doing so good baby.” He moaned, his fingers turning white as he held you, no doubt leaving a mark on your body. 
“Shit…” Eddie moaned again, as your lips opened wider, swallowing him deeper and deeper. “You’re… fuck you’re amazing.” He struggled to say as he whimpered, the praise only making you go in ways he never imagined. 
Steve felt how your walls were closing, a clear indication you were getting exactly where he wanted you to be, his nails digging in your skin, in the kind of way he knew drove you insane, your back arched even more, letting him get deeper than he ever had. 
“Eddie” Steve said, looking at him, his eyes were half gone once he looked back. “Touch her, she’s close.” 
You confirmed as much, whining while your mouth was still filled with Eddie’s cock, your left hand stroking him at the same pace as Steve was fucking you. 
As soon as you felt Eddie’s fingers on your clit, the coldness of the rings only making you enjoy it even more, you knew you weren’t gonna last long. Eddie felt it too, you were struggling to concentrate on sucking him off, so he pulled himself out of your mouth, kissing you instead. 
“I rather hear you, sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear.
“Keep doing that, please.” You begged at both of them. 
They did, somehow with the same rhythm, Eddie’s hand knew exactly how to touch you, while the other one was touching himself. Steve kept fucking you, the sound of your body hitting his was magic, you thought. Symphonies could be written with the way it all sounded, Eddie praising you, guiding you through it, Steve’s groaning your name as he pushed in and out, and you being as loud as you wanted to. 
It didn’t take long before Steve felt it, your legs thigting, the sharp intake of your breathing, your hand closing in a fist. 
“You can come, honey.” He groaned, as he too felt himself not being able to hold it for much longer. 
“Please.” Eddie added, as he too wasn’t gonna last that much more. 
You did, your back arched as you felt Steve hit you for a couple more times before the warmness filled you up, leaving every inch of your skin he could find covered with kisses. Eddie came, the cum falling in his stomach and hand. 
“Jesus…” Eddie muttered, as he let his body fully relax. 
“Yeah…” Steve added, pulling out of you, pulling you in for a hug as soon as his body hitted the couch. 
You melted into his arms, nudging Eddie to come closer. He did with a half smile, you enjoyed Steve’s caressing of your skin whilst your fingers got lost into Eddie’s hair. 
“Robin’s gonna kill me when I tell her…” Eddie muttered, before realising that he wasn’t sure if you were going to tell people about it. 
“What will you tell her?” Steve asked, as if he could read his thoughts. Not in an inquisitive tone, more of a curious one. 
“Tell her you went to Paris.” You half joked, a giggle escaping your lips. “She already knows, I’m sure.” You let the two confused men know. 
“Does she?” Steve’s curiosity piked, you nodded, leaving a kiss on his chest.
“She said I should visit it right before the dance.” You let them know. 
“Well, thanks Robin.” Eddie laughed, intertwining your fingers with yours. 
“Are you staying over?” Steve asked at Eddie, you could sense a bit of hopefulness in his tone. 
“If you let me.” 
“We should go to bed then, comfier.” Steve added, the biggest smile on his face. “Maybe we’ll do this again.” He finished with a kiss on the top of your head.
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lazyjellyfish300 · 5 months
Text
Mom and Dad are fighting on Christmas 🎄⛄🖤
Miguel O'Hara x wife reader
TW: MINORS DNI, angst, relationship and marriage troubles, fighting, insecurity, jealousy, postpartum, talk of divorce, mild smut at the end (p in v, idk to me it's mild, I've seen worse) word count 3.3k
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Credit to the gif owner keezinemugstudent! 🙏🏽
Synopsis: your marriage to Miguel is on the brink of collapse. He wakes up and tries to fix it on Christmas. Jerry Maguire inspired. 😁
Valentine's Day spinoff sequel
Mother's Day ending blurb
I tried to write something angsty. Hope everyone had/is having a good holiday season! ⛄
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Miguel's in the doghouse and he knows it. You requested a separation after you reached your limit. The kids were sick in the weeks following Thanksgiving and before Christmas and he spent the whole time working late and coming home at suspicious hours in the morning, leaving you drowning. You and the kids were piled in yours and Miguel's bed when you'd hear him come home, the front door closing and his familiar footfalls dredging down the hall, pausing only at the fridge before passing out on the couch. Oh you hated him right now. The resentment had creeped in and poisoned the marriage inside and out when he became exceedingly obsessed with work.
Protecting the stability of the multiverse was a huge undertaking, but, like all things in his life, Miguel took it to the next level. But when it came to his personal life, he was grievously lacking. The passion where you two would do it twice a day and couldn't keep your hands out of each other's pants? Ancient history. The small pecks you'd trade in the mornings were a thing of the past. Gone were the days you two would text all day and go out for dates. You didn't so much as get an "on my way home" text, instead letting the sound of his car pulling in the driveway be your confirmation of his return. You two were more roomates at this point than husband and wife.
Traditionally, on Christmas Eve after the kids went to bed, you two would take that time for each other, eating the cookies for Santa that were conveniently your favorite kind, placing the presents you two carefully shopped for and wrapped (well, mostly you wrapped), under the tree. A hysterical giggle would escape your lips at the milk mustache on Miguel's face. Then you'd two get busy on the floor in front of the fireplace, fighting back laughter as you tried to keep your moans down, every year struggling a little bit more than before because your knees weren't what they used to be before taking it to your bedroom for one more round before the chaos of Christmas morning began.
He was perfect in the beginning. The romance between you two used to be at an all time high. He was a nerd in the same friend circle when you knew him in high school, wickedly smart, the guy who won the Robotics and Math Olympiad comps and got visits from Ivy League college STEM departments, eager to scoop up his talent. Sure, he was cute, but when he went to college is when you heard he had a major glow up and became kind of cocky. You heard about how he became Spider-Man and was pretty much the greatest thing since sliced bread in the eyes of the people, saving lives and fighting villains and all. You knew how the opposite gender seemed to malfunction and forget how to act around him, so you stifled away your tiny crush you had on him for years in the smallest crevice in your brain in a forgotten folder, never thinking it'd see the light of day.
When you saw him at your high school reunion, you decided to be brave and remark on how they're playing Nickelback, which he shrugged and said he actually enjoyed them, to which you sheepishly admitted that you really enjoyed them deep down too, you just couldn't resist making yourself the person to talk shit, since there's always gotta be one hater when Nickelback comes on. A canon event, if you will. This earned a tiny side smile from him, a chink in his stoic armor. After 8 beers, some flirty jests, and a little backseat rendezvous in his car, that became the last night that you two spent apart.
You were a single mom and he was a single dad. He had Gabi who was now 10 and you had Marcus who was now 6. Then you two had little Anthony together who was now 2. At first he was at all the doctors appointments, all the parent teacher conferences, he knew what the kids were doing in school. He did bed times every night, reading in a silly voice with Gabi and Marcus both balancing on his lap while you rocked baby Anthony, smiling when you heard the kids giggling from the other room. You'd walk in after baby Anthony fell asleep in his crib, your heart melting as you saw this handsome giant of a man usually known to be cold and serious to everyone else, turn into the doting husband and loving father you knew him to be. Now, years of the monotony of every day life, pressures of raising a family, and the dying egalitarian attitude you two had as partners snowballed into your own version of Gottman's four horses, leading your marriage to Miguel into apocalypse.
At first, he welcomed the separation as you two battled in the kitchen.
"You wanna separation, fine, I'll do you one better. I'll fucking leave! Felicia's better company anyway," he smirked.
There wasn't real truth behind his statement, but he knew it would hurt you when you heard it. He'd be lying if he said Felicia wasn't an attractive woman, but, she simply wasn't you. He had learned his lesson on cheating years ago when he fumbled his relationship with Gabi's mother.
Ouch. But his words could be daggers when he wanted them to be, and he knew just how to twist them into you. Of course it was Felicia. Felicia, the gorgeous Black Cat recruit from work. Her silvery hair that halted midway down her back and startling blue eyes that could drown any man in them. She didn't have kids either, a life with her promised excitement, passion, and freedom. She was witty and funny and had a way of making anyone in her vicinity listen when she spoke. And to add insult to injury, she had a killer body.
After giving birth, you became so busy, and with reassurance from Miguel that you were still beautiful to him, you let your desire to get your body to "snap back" sit on the back burner. Signs of motherhood and postpartum marked you with purple stripes running vertical on your soft belly and a new plushness to your thighs. Basically, Felicia was a complete 180 from the woman you were, which made the sting of his words that much more unbearable. He took your vulnerabilities and threw them in your face.
"Oh so you admit it, finally! I know there was something going on between you two. Makes sense. She's a gorgeous woman, right? She can fucking have you then. What, are you in love with her?"
Miguel rolled his eyes, annoyed with the superficialness of your statement and your obsession with looks, despite him reassuring you many times that he wouldn't look at other women.
"I'm not in love with her, but she doesn't nag me all the fucking time like you do. I bust my ass every day for this family so you don't have to work. I don't know who this new woman is that I'm looking at right now and what she's done with my wife, but it's not the woman I fell in love with. It would be nice if you could show me a little appreciation once in a while."
You felt your blood pressure rise.
"Appreciation.... APPRECIATION, are you fucking kidding me?! I was up all goddamn night with Gabi and Marcus. I run this fucking household all by myself. I quit my fucking career to stay home and raise your kids. Do you not understand how lonely that is?"
"I'M LONELY!!! " he yells, triggered, the feelings bottled up, fizzed over and hurtled at you like a cork on a champagne bottle. "How do you think I feel? I got women at work practically throwing themselves at me but I don't do anything about it because I'm a good husband. Meanwhile, my own wife doesn't wanna fuck me. I'm a prisoner in my own fucking house."
Your eyes almost slipped from their sockets from rolling them so hard. He seemed to want a cookie and a gold star for just being loyal, the bare minimum.
"Oh, so you wanna fuck them? Go ahead! Maybe I'd fuck you if you actually gave a shit about me and not like I'm some damn fleshlight you use to get off!" You hurl back.
He left and checked into a hotel down the street.
A few weeks had passed and it was now Christmas. You were getting used to being separated but your heart still ached in your chest. You couldn't go on doing life, when the one person you did life with was nowhere to be found. You couldn't listen to your favorite songs, eat your favorite foods, or even look at your own children without being reminded of him. Gabi was his spitting image. Same with Anthony. Even Marcus, who was his stepson, started adopting Miguel's mannerisms. The way he'd scratch his head while he did his math homework, deep in concentration.
It was Christmas evening at your mom's. You joined the other women in your family, your non-politically correct Aunt, your soft spoken sister-in-law, your mother with a don't-try-me attitude, and your younger sister with a sass to rival your mother's. You were all complaining about the men in your lives, your aunt rattling off about her 3 ex husbands but, 'hey she collects alimony from two of them so she can't complain!', your younger sister complaining about the frat guys at college who just wanna get in your pants, your sister in law who's silent the whole time (your brother treats her like a queen), and your mom about your asshole dad with an erratic mother who was incapable of cutting the apron strings and made her life a living hell. The kids are laughing and playing in the basement, eagerly trying out their new Nintendo Switch Santa left under the tree.
"I'm here for my wife."
Your feminine council meeting is interrupted by an unwelcome masculine figure. It's your estranged husband, Miguel, the coffee-colored strands of hair that hung over his forehead starting to wet from the snowflakes that melted under the warmth of the room as he stepped inside, a look of regret and longing embedded in his eyes that you hadn't seen since your earliest days of knowing him.
His strong hands dangled at his sides in fists, his chest heaving up and down. His navy blazer bearing dark water stains from the melted snow. He had a revelation at work. He and Peter B. stopped an anomaly that was terrorizing the streets of Queens in Peter's universe. The battle was close, almost a little too close to where he lived, putting MJ and Mayday in direct danger. After the job was done, the moving and emotional reunion between Peter B., MJ, and Mayday was his epiphany.
As the little family reveled in their joy and relief of evading the ultimate disaster, the only thing there for Miguel at the point of his return was the inanimate, empty, thin walls of his apartment and the thoughts of you, his severed family, that inevitably haunted him. He needed you back. He needed to apologize and fix it now.
He ran from your house to your mom's in the snow and all. It was the first Christmas Eve he spent not in between your thighs and buried deep inside you. It was the first Christmas morning he didn't wake up to Gabi's blueberry pancakes and Marcus tackling him while Anthony screamed in delight. It was going to be the first Christmas night without his family by his side, an uncomfortably obvious empty seat at the table he rightfully belonged. Next to you.
Sometimes you don't know the value of something until it's gone. Sometimes life gets in the way and you forget to appreciate the person in front of you. Why did I treat my wife like garbage when all she ever wanted was for me to ask how her day was? Why were we on our way to winding up like both sets of our parents? Doomed to repeat the cycle of divorce and hurt. Doomed to lose your faith in love and marriage like all the maternal figures in your family before you did.
Now here he was, in the living room while your mom, sister, and aunt moved towards each other, eyes squinting, three pitbulls willing to jump in on your behalf while your sister in law just stayed frozen in place. He was in enemy territory and he needed to choose his words carefully.
"Not here Miguel..."
"YES here. Right now." He says in a firm voice. "You're not getting rid of me, woman."
You scoff, almost amused by his sudden urgency and painting you like you're the one who wanted this family to be broken apart.
"The kids are downstairs..." you start to say, hoping that the mention that innocent ears could be prying into the adult conversation would help him simmer down.
"I'll see them in a minute." He says flatly.
"I miss my wife...."-he chokes on the last word, wife.
"And I want her to come home." He knew at any time his words would give way to the reservoir of tears built up behind it.
You stood there, incredulous.
"I don't want to come home to an empty apartment. I don't want my own bed. I'm ashamed it took me losing you and the kids for me to wake up. And, I'm so so sorry. I'll do whatever I can to be better. To be a better man for you and the husband that you needed. We both got caught up in real life and focused on the kids so much that we lost each other. Well, this is me trying to find my way back."
Your lips parted slightly as your breathing became heavier. This was all you ever wanted to hear him say. Stop neglecting the love between you two that laid dormant, a plant starved of sunshine. For him to finally shake off the stubborn shackles that was his ego and express himself to you. Let him allow you back into his heart, no longer as a guest, but a permanent resident.
"You're... you're everything to me. And I'm not leaving here tonight until you let me know if you'd allow me the opportunity to get hurt by you again," a tear rolled down his cheek, his scarlet eyes yearning, his hands pining for the feel of you. As though the madness of not having you alone could stop his heart from beating, stop his world from turning, rearrange life as he knew it into a hollow existence not worth seeing.
Your own reservoir could not be held back any longer and started to roll down your cheeks. He managed to peel back the walls you built with his apology, revealing the woman underneath who just missed her husband.
He steps closer to you now, eager to bridge the rest of the space between your bodies.
"You still love me?" he asked softly.
Your chest heaves, shoulders raising then falling sharply, feeling yourself crack with exasperation under his burning gaze as you softly answer,
"Never stopped."
He grabs you and pulls you into him, his embrace is tight as though you'd disappear if he dared to break it. He tangles a hand in your hair and presses his cheek into your head, his eyes closed, drinking in the scent he'd been away from for weeks. You bury your face in his chest, trying to make yourself small and allowing his frame to swallow you whole, not minding his wet shirt and blazer that still have a slight chill on them from the storm outside, allowing your body heat to seep into his. You both began to rock back and forth a little bit, still locked inside your hug. It was as though the passing of time had evaporated and it was only you two in the room, nevermind your family witnessed the whole thing.
After several long moments, you pull apart and he offers you one of his dazzling smiles, one you hadn't seen in months. The kids have made their way upstairs and shriek with excitement when they see their dad and Miguel bends down to scoop them up. You smile and stand beside your mom who scoops you into a side hug. With her blessing, Miguel stays and celebrates the rest of Christmas with you and your family.
Gabi, Marcus, and Anthony are now all tucked in. The sugar from the chocolate they consumed all day had worn off, making them crash hard in their beds. You and Miguel are cuddled up on the couch watching the fireplace, taking some needed time as a couple. You stroke his strong arms that are wrapped around you with your fingertips, watching the way the flames leap and spark in the air when they crackle against the charred wood. You look up at him and feel a wave of desire wash over you that you had pent up for months as you study his chiseled features and the way the fire's glow highlights his skin.
"Should we end this Christmas with a bang?" You ask, pun fully intended.
Miguel looks at you tiredly, trying to act like that wasn't a witty remark but he lets out a chuckle. "I'd love to," he whispers.
He takes both your cheeks in his large hands and brings his lips to you immediately. They're soft and full. You feel yourself melting into him every time he sandwiches yours in between them. He reclines you backwards, slowly, until he's on top of you. He lets the weight of his body and hips come down on you little by little, making you arch your back, so your body can better receive him.
Once he lets you taste his tongue, you open your mouth wider, permitting him to deepen the kiss, tossing kindle onto the growing flame between you two, and it's not the one in your fireplace. You take your turn to dial up the heat, seizing his bottom lip in a gentle nip from your teeth, earning a low groan from Miguel and a tightened grip on your hair.
As you continue your steamy makeout session, he begins to hump gently against your clothed body, a nonverbal plea for the wet friction only the inside of you can provide.
After your frantic hands strip each other of your clothes, you've transitioned so you're straddling him in the lotus position, goosebumps popping up all over your skin as your bare body meets his, a high pitched gasp escaping you as you sink down onto him, his mouth falling open and his eyes shutting closed as he breathes in your ear,
"God, I missed you, baby."
You whine into his neck as you coil your fists in his hair. His hands fly to the soft flesh of your sides, using them to move you up and down, his haggard breaths making you weaker and weaker by the minute. You hum,
"I missed you even more."
The next move of his hips is harder than you anticipated, causing your brain to go fuzzy with pleasure.
"How much?" he exhales in a sultry tone.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you all week,"your tone turning into pleading as you feel yourself approaching your limit.
Miguel can't help but feel himself lose his mind a little bit at your words and at your reaction, sensing you won't be able to hold on much longer.
He lays you down, while still keeping himself inside. He slows down to a more sensual pace, breathing in the sight of your wild hair clinging to the couch cushions, evidence of him hitting you in all the right spots every time the inner corners of your eyebrows squinch upwards and your lips fall open.
His loving eyes burn with worship of your body and how well you're doing as he runs a thumb along your chin then pulls down your bottom lip, leans in and mumbles quietly into your mouth,
"Merry Christmas, Mrs. O'Hara."
-------
🖤
2K notes · View notes
onelittlespiral · 2 months
Text
FML: Video
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“Shoot, I don’t know about this. Something about watching this feels weird.”
My bro just kept holding my face, “You said you wanted to be one of the bros dude. Just keep watching, this video will tell you everything you need to know”
“Yeah, you said that, but this is just static and nonsense, and something about it has me on edge. Just let me get out of here.”
“But don’t it speak to you? Isn’t there something you want to let out jock boy.”
“I…no, no I… I can’t… stop, what’s happening?”
“Jock boy is about to learn what being a bro is all about. Jock boy wants to listen carefully to his bro and watch the video.”
“No no no… but, it… it sounds so… calm…”
“Yeah jock boy, just like a mind vacation. Just let it happen. Good jock boy.”
“Must… listen… to… bruuuuhhh.”
Sometimes it takes a little convincing, but eventually they all fall. Their eyes grow wide before their muscles go limp and mouths drop open. It usually only takes a little bit for them to process. But when they finally do come too, it’s like a whole different world in there. The first one I did by accident. Found the weird file and sent it to my roommate as a joke. It wasn’t until I got back from class that I saw just how much power I now had.
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Gone was the theater kid, in his place was a souped up bro ready to knock back some cold ones, and get sweaty in the gym. It was a surprise when he began rubbing my thigh in the sauna, and pulled me in for a kiss. I melted in his arms as he positioned me on the bench and began stretching me out. I was so relaxed he slid in with no lube, fucking me raw and hard as his tongue kept my mouth distracted from moaning. Thought I just got lucky there, happened to get a gay guy. But I quickly learned for him now, “any hole’s a goal.” And it was confirmed when I tried it with a second guy:
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Good old Southern boy, and as straight as they came. Thought he was hot shit in class. Sent him the file when we were on a group project together. By the next day when he came in, he couldn’t add two numbers together with a calculator. He was still smug as hell but in bed, let’s just say he earned it. He was about as thick as an ear of corn, and he knew how to plow a field and spread his seed.
I had tried a couple others since then. A scholarship rival here. A group mate there. A couple disappointing dates that ended up really turning the night around. But my friend had finally gotten curious and started asking some questions. I didn’t need someone to question what was happening. I needed a lifting buddy. This was my first time trying to edit the file to get some different results.
“Hey, bro? What happened last night? I feel hung over as fuck..”
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Holy shit he was massive. “Nothing too much bro. You just got fucking shit faced.”
“Huhuhu, yeah,” he gawfed, “sounds right.
It was time to try the trigger and see how much the changes worked, “Hey, jock boy, tell me your name.”
His laughter stopped as his eyes glossed over, “My name is Jack, but my friends just call me Jacked.”
“What do you want more than anything, jock boy?”
“To serve my bros,” he replied.
“Will you do anything for them?”
His mind flickered for a moment. I saw a look of confusion pass over him. He looked down, “Hey, what… WHAT HAPPENED? What did you do-“
I walked up and held his face“JOCK BOY, STOP.”
He tried to fight it, his mind pulling him back to the abyss. But as I watched his body slowly relax, I knew I had won even before he said, “Ye-yeah. Sure thing bro.”
“Jock Boy, will you do anything for your bros?”
His face broke out in a shiteating grin, “Fuck yeah, anything for my bros.”
“New exercise routine. You, face down, ass up. My bed. Now.”
He excitedly ran back to my bedroom. I heard the bed squeal under his weight. Good to know I could edit things. Can’t always let my bros have all the fun.
1K notes · View notes
azulpitlane · 5 months
Text
vicious pt two I ln4
pairing: ex!lando norris x reader, charles leclerc x reader summary: you are trying to move on from lando but he refuses to notes: more dramaaa and asshole lando sorry, this is short cause i kind of got busy🧍‍♀️ part one, masterlist
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell and 3,268,379 others
yourusername emails i cant send is officially yours💌
it has been a long and emotional process writing this album but i loved and enjoyed every bit of it<3 im so excited to share this piece of my life with you and officially close this chapter and move on
thank you for the support, ill see you all soon❤️
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user OMGG IM ALREADY CRYING ITS SO AMAZING
user stfu is that charles in the fifth pic?!?
user it is!! he was credited in a few songs for instruments🥹🥹
user because i liked a boy hits so different when u know what she went through :(
maxfewtrell running on stream to listen to it
yourusername pls dont hate im still sensitive user omg noo i cant watch whats he saying about it?? user he loves every song, hes being so supportive and said hes team y/n😭
user her friendship with charles is so cute omg
user “friendship” rightttt😏
user lost lando but got charles, a win is a win
francisca.cgomes love love love💌
user omg i know charles introduced them
user ‘ill see you soon’ ARE YOU TOURING???
pietra.pilao so incredibly proud of you❤️ such an amazing album
yourusername p ily and miss u sm🥹❤️ pietra.pilao i miss you more we need to get together soon! yourusername otw to text u so make plans rn🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️
user the fact that landos friends are still supportive despite the breakup tells me everything i need to know
user “officially close this chapter” new era fr🫶
charles_leclerc so honored you even asked me to be apart of this❤️so proud of you ma cherie
yourusername so grateful for you❤️ user JUST DATEEEE user now kiss!!!
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Lando so you and y/n huh?
Charles she's my friend is that a problem?
Lando i dont remember ever introducing you two?
Charles not that its any of your concern but i introduced myself last year on the paddock while you were too busy ignoring her
Lando so when i had back turned, you took the chance to steal my girlfriend?
Charles dont try turning this into something its not she's trying to move on so i think its time you do the same lando dont ask about her again. read
f1gossip
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463,582 likes
f1gossip Following Y/n Y/l/n's album release, Lando and Charles have unfollowed each other on instagram! It is not confirmed if Y/n is the reason why, but it is heavily speculated. It seems Lando was the first to unfollow and Charles quickly followed suit.
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user all too much for little lando norris
user y/n breaking up a friendship now🙄
user she didnt do anything except release an album on how she felt, if lando gets offended by that then hes clearly the problem here
user 16 4 fans lost today but then again lando started it🤷‍♀️
user karma works in funny ways @landonorris
user lando has every right to be mad imo
user not at all, he treated her like shit then cheated and now hes mad she has friends in f1? make it make sense
user why watch soap operas when you can watch f1
user 2024 season is gonna HIT
user charles is going to have the motivation for wdc now, ferrari fans won🙏
user even though im a lando fan, i have to be team charles and y/n on this one sorry
user yup, after listening to her album i definitely support y/n
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and 3,295,204 others
yourusername first time performing my new album at my one night show was the best time ever!! thank you for all that showed up you were an amazing crowd❤️
and just in case you missed my little announcement, bet u wanna is my next single of this album...this one's a little funny when you know the context🙊
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user wish i was able to go :(
user WHATS THE CONTEXT??
user listen to the lyrics, lando definetly wanted her back after his side girl cheated AHAH
user i need to know if charles was there
francisca.cgomes such a wonderful night💌 liked by yourusername
user your stage presence is so amazing
luisinhaoliveira99 so great seeing you🤍 liked by yourusername
user SHE WAS THERE?!? user pls tell me you guys took pictures together
user bet u wanna is so good omg
user are you opening for eras tour in europe
user it is rumored, i hope its true😭
f1gossip
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376,845 likes
f1gossip Charles, Pierre, Kika and Luisa leaving Y/n Y/l/n's concert in LA tonight! Thoughts on the singer's new friendship with the drivers and girls?
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user i love them😭❤️
user i was there and saw charles with pierre and kika singing along to every song🥹
user SHUT UPPPP user stop theyre so cute
user luisa and y/n mean everything to me
user them supporting y/n despite the drama with lando shows a lot about him
user ive never wanted to part of a gc so bad
user charles is so supportive, yk who wouldnt be....
user i need them to date, he would treat y/n so good
scuderiaferrari
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 1,402,440 others
scuderiaferrari Special guest for the first qualification of the season! Thanks for coming to the our garage❤️
tagged yourusername
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user OMFGGG
user i need pics of her and charles NOW
user charles got p1 cause bae was watching🙈
user is she staying all weekend!?!
user her and charles supporting each other omg
user are they finally dating??
user he was asked about it in an interview and he said they were just friends! user ugh can charles make a move already? i dont want another lando situation..
user i wonder if she bumped into lando😳
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Lando was y/n really in ferrari garage?
Carlos yeah... are you okay mate?
Lando how can i be? he stole my girlfriend and is now parading her around the paddock its fucked up
Carlos he did say they were just friends and i didnt see them acting like a couple or anything
Lando there's gotta be something more i just need y/n to see who he really is
Carlos i dont know, maybe its time you move on mate
Lando no, i cant give up now do you have an extra paddock pass?
Carlos why...
Lando remember charles' crazy ex girlfriend who was obsessed with him? i heard shes in town to see him what if we send her the paddock pass so she can show y/n how charles treated her
Carlos this seems a little crazy lando why dont you just talk to y/n?
Lando she wont even let me get near her just please carlos? and then i wont ever bring it up again if it doesnt work
Carlos fine but dont tell anybody about this
Lando thank you mate, i owe you
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tags: @iamahallucinationnn, @sofiacblair
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peachesofteal · 5 months
Text
Simple Math / Part 5
Simple Math masterlist
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.5k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Stalking. Brief mention of domestic violence. Feelings of fear, self loathing, and anxiety. Vomiting. Panic attack/comfort. Medical inaccuracies, hospital setting. A little bit of praise. Johnny is a flirt and a menace.
“Ye’re off yer head.” 
“I’m not.” Johnny expects Simon to relent, to give it up, but when he doesn’t budge, something hot sizzles alive in the pit of Johnny’s stomach, desire roaring to life in his veins. 
“Jus’ like that? Ye’re goin’ let me see yer bonnie face finally?” He slurs, lifting the bottle to his lips, and Simon nods.
“Only if you win."
“And if ye win?” Simon moves closer, his chest brushing against Johnny’s, balaclava covered face dipping down, noses nudging against one another’s in a tentative, teasing way. 
“If I win, you’ll remove something of my choosing instead.” 
Your phone is ringing.
In your sleep, you hardly recognize it, but your subconscious is well trained, and your hand seeks the source of the noise effortlessly, dragging it from the nightstand and next to your face, to squint blearily at it, awareness coming quickly when you recognize the charge nurse’s work line.
“Hello?” You clear the cobwebs of sleep from your throat.
“Hey, sorry to wake you.”
“No, ‘s alright. What’s going on?”
“I know it’s your day off, but-“
“You’re short.” You fill in the blanks, and she huffs.
“We’ve got two out with flu like symptoms, and I’m floating another to-“
“It’s okay.” You swing your feet over the edge of the bed, rubbing your eyes. “I got you. Just give me like, an hour? I have to get ready and stuff.”
“Of course. Thanks so much, you’re a lifesaver.” You zone out for a moment, plotting out the rest of your day, and mumble something like ‘don’t worry about it’, ending the call with your thumb.
The hotel carpet is plush. It’s cushioned and soft, and it gives a little when you stand and stretch, pulling your arms over your head, twisting and turning with tired bones, shaking loose the stupor that holds your neck too straight, too tightly.
OT isn’t the worst thing in the world right now, considering you’re paying for a long term stay in a hotel, you tell yourself more than a few times as you shower and dress. You should be grateful for it. Understaffing has it’s benefits, financially.
The only wrench about coming in on your day off this week is you’re supposed to be collecting more things from your flat. Particularly, clothing. You’ve only got a short rotation of outfits, scrubs, both in short supply, and… no clean underwear. You had planned to move large chunks of your wardrobe over today, probably at least two trips worth, but will now have to settle for stopping by fairly quick to grab what you can.
It will be fine, you think, casually checking your surroundings as you step off the platform. In and out and on with your day.
You were wrong.
You see it immediately, stepping through the door. The locks are in place, handle, deadbolt, extra one at the top, but you can tell, you can feel, that someone has been in here. Your blood thickens in your veins, freezing to a stop, sluggishly propelled by your frenzied heart. You can hear it in your ears, the thunder of your panic, can feel the fear twisting itself into a sailor’s knot and holding you hostage.
Your feeling is confirmed, rationalized, when you push your bedroom door ajar and see the carnage of what’s been left behind on top of your bed.
Shredded panties.
The entire underwear drawer has been spilled out across your sheets, lace and cotton and silk all ripped to pieces, torn edges clearly made by hands, not knives, not scissors, but the personal touch of fingers, of fists.
Your breath catches in your chest, oxygen in the room falling away, leaving you panting, gasping for your next inhale as you cautiously pick up a pair close to you. They’re grey cotton boy shorts, and your stomach flips up into your throat when they stand as stiff as a board, some sort of dried substance splattered across them, rendering the fabric firm and inflexible.
Not… not just some dried substance… you realize in horror, scanning the pile of panties, noticing the stains on most of them, a milky white color shining against black silk.
You can’t breathe. You stumble away, back slamming into your dresser, sinking down onto the floor, hands covering your ears.
This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. 
This is sick, even for him. An escalation of disturbing behavior that sends a chill down your spine, frightening you even more than you already were. You knew he’d get in, hoped he would buy your carefully crafted lie: the appearance of you still living there… but to act so brazenly, to do something like… this.
Does he know, does he realize, you’re not actually living in the flat now? 
He’s really going to kill you this time. 
You race to the toilet, heaving yourself over the seat as your breakfast rushes past your lips, a cup of coffee and half eaten muffin accentuated by the sting of bile, and you gag, spitting and hacking until you’re finished, flushing it all away.
You don’t look at the girl in the mirror. You don’t want to see her. Don’t want to tell her all the ways you’re letting her down. She thinks you’re smarter than this, stronger. Braver. She believes you’ve done it once before, you’ve escaped, you’ve hid, and you can do it again.
She doesn’t know you’re not sure you have the heart for it now. She doesn’t realize you’re tired, you’re afraid. She doesn’t understand that you like the life you’ve made, that running is exhausting, that sometimes, in the very darkest corners of your mind, you think that letting him win might be easiest.
So, you don’t look at her. You mourn your pile of panties for a too long second and lock the apartment up tight.
Get it together. Get yourself together. 
You coach yourself the entire way to work, trying to ignore the rubbing and bunching of your scrub pants, an unfortunate consequence of being forced to go commando.
Deep breath. You can do this. 
You still have your sanctuary. 
You had hoped, for a miniscule moment, that your day might improve once you step foot in the hospital, and you pushed away the inkling that suggested that optimism may be linked the fact that you’ll get to see Simon and Johnny, opting not to even acknowledge the strange sensations swirling about inside your heart whenever you think about the other day. The day when the world stood still and Johnny touched your hand so gently, stroking his fingers over your skin, or when the elevator doors parted to reveal Simon and their baby, a sweet baby girl safe in his arms, his eyes alight and adoring, your knees almost giving out at the sight.
Needless to say, you’re eager to badge in.
The day is quickly derailed, when within a half an hour of getting settled into your routine, an alarm goes off for two sixty-eight: thirty-nine degrees.
Your mind immediately somersaults to the pain in his upper right quadrant from your last shift, logical thought leaping all around as you jog down the hall.
You notated it. You passed it on in shift report. It’s only thirty-nine. You did everything right. No one here would just disregard something like that. Deep breath. 
Still… 
Bile leak. Abscess. Infection. Or worse… hepatic artery pseudoaneurysm, hemorrhaging. Big things that could lead to worse things, worse outcomes, worse- 
The door comes up quicker than you realize, and without hesitating, you slip inside.
“Hi.” You’re a little breathless, and Simon’s eyes snap to yours, taking you in, studying from head to toe, brow knitted together. Johnny’s asleep, and you’re not sure if that makes you feel better, or worse.
“Everything alright?” Of course. He’s too perceptive. Get control of yourself, it could be nothing.
“Yeah, I ah… have to draw some blood.” You really do not want to wake your patient, or alarm Simon, but you refuse to lie. You fire off a text to the attending on call, advising him of Johnny’s temperature and reminding him of the upper right quadrant pain, letting him know he can expect labs as soon as you get them downstairs. You give Simon a nod, turning to slide the draw open quietly, pulling out everything you’ll need. His gaze burns a hole in your scrubs, the ever-present scrutiny impossible to escape, and sometimes you wonder if he’s reading your mind.
“What’s wrong? He just fell asleep, Pen was here all morning, tired him out.” His protest is husky, and you think he’s frowning behind the mask. You imagine a strong mouth pulled downwards in consternation; wide jaw gnashed tight with worry.
“He’s running just a bit of a fever.” He jolts, and you shake your head, hoping to soothe his fear. “It’s not too high. I’m not super worried, but we’ll need to check his white cell count, just in case, okay? And then we’ll go from there.” He nods.
“You said this could happen.” You smile. It feels unsteady, but you hope he can’t tell.
“I did. I promised, that if there was something to panic about, I would tell you. We’re not there yet.” It’s not a lie. Your wild spiral from a few minutes ago was an extreme, not reality, and you need to keep your head on.
“Okay.”
“Right. So, just going to do a quick blood draw and get it downstairs so we can find out what’s going on.” Simon shifts uncomfortably, and you carefully squeeze Johnny's arm, wrapping him with the tie and swabbing the inside of his elbow as fast as possible.
He blinks, eyes opening slowly, confused brow smoothing when he realizes you’re leaning over him, and his gaze darts to Simon before landing back on you. “There’s our bunny.” He mumbles softly, and your face heats, eyes widening in surprise before you regulate your reaction, and Simon coughs. Loudly. Bunny? 
“Such a flirt, MacTavish.” You playfully chastise him, relieved he’s feeling like himself. “I just need to get some blood and then I’ll leave you in peace to sleep.” He shrugs, but Simon rubs a thumb against his thigh in tiny little circles, too fast to be considered comfort, and Johnny clucks. “Ah, come on Si.”
“You’re runnin’ a fever, Johnny.”
“Ach. ‘s nothing.” He brushes it off, but his eyes are slow to track Simon’s movements, and you casually sneak a peek at the monitor, noting his blood pressure.
“Could be.” You assure him, smoothing a hand over his shoulder and taping a small patch of gauze over the puncture. “But better safe than sorry, right?”
The labs are inconclusive. The attending hems and haws before finally asking you to schedule a stat ultrasound of his abdomen, and you manage to bump him to the front of the queue, pulling a few strings here and there by rattling off some bullshit about being higher priority.
In the time it takes for the tech to get to two sixty-eight with the machine, you get a new admission. Intubated, but awake, and getting them and their family squared away takes longer than you would have liked, the patient’s middle-aged husband a wreck of nerves and worry, the kind of anxiety that makes you sit with him in the room for a little while, patting his hand and promising that you’ll be there for them, every step of the way.
By the time you step out of that room, it’s been nearly an hour. You catch a glimpse of Simon in the chairs outside two sixty-eight, and you throw him one of your best work smiles, hoping to reassure him, soothe his nerves. You want to go to him, want to sit beside him and talk him through everything, the outcomes, the possibilities, but you still need to add the notes for your new admit, and-
Someone catches your eye from the end of the hall. It’s a man, white, with brown hair, in regular clothes, and he stands taller than the others around him, shoulders rolled back just- just like-
No. You force yourself to look, to truly see him, taking in his facial features, the slope of his nose, and it’s hardly a second before you’re realizing it’s not who you thought it was. It’s not him. 
The second doesn’t matter to your heart. It’s already racing, tripling it’s steady pace inside your chest. You’re shaking, trembling in the middle of the hall, frantically looking for the nearest closet, or empty room, or…
Stairwell. There’s a stairwell just beyond where Simon is anxiously waiting, and you beeline to it, nearly tripping over your own feet past him. You think you hear your name being called, but the blood rushing in your ears is too loud, and you can’t be sure. Either way, it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters right now is getting away. Hiding. Not letting yourself be noticed.
You take the first flight down, stopping on the landing to rest your face against the polished, cold wall, desperately trying to fill your lungs with air, encouraging yourself to breathe.
It wasn’t him. You’re safe. 
Deep breath. You can do this. 
Your fingers dig into your hips, squeezing through the numbness, through the overwhelming feeling of your impending doom, and your head swims, lightheadedness nearly knocking you off balance.
“It wasn’t him.” You whisper aloud. “It’s not him. You’re safe. Get it together.” You chant, eyes clenched tight. Your heart is still pounding, no sign of relenting, and your lungs burn, screaming inside you, desperate for air. The feeling of suffocating, of dying, grows stronger, gaining momentum, and your eyes slam shut, your mind and body locked in a tomb of panic and fear. 
You hear your name again. It’s sharper, authoritative, but you can’t open your eyes, too overwhelmed to even make sense of it. Deep breath, just breathe.  
Something touches your shoulder. It’s unexpected, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you register it as gentle, but you’re too far gone, too far buried beneath your fear and your panic and your shame. It triggers you into a defensive posture, and you flinch so hard you jostle yourself into the wall, turning into the corner, hands out in front of your face.
“Hey, hey.” It’s Simon. Simon is standing in the stairwell with you, palms open, concern heavy in his eyes, and you vaguely realize he’s talking, soft, deep words washing over you. “-to breathe?” He comes closer, only half a step, but it’s enough to startle you back into the corner, and he stops short. “It’s alright. I’m not going to touch you.” He soothes, and you recognize the pitch, the calm, affectionate tone from Johnny’s bedside. Sour nausea surges in your stomach, and your lungs fight the invisible hand that tightens around them. “Can you take a deep breath?” You shake your head, and he huffs a soft chuckle. “You can do it, just try. Through your nose, like this.” His chest expands, eye contact never breaking, and you try to follow suit, getting halfway before your head spins, vision tunneling. “You’re alright.”
You’re not alright. None of this is alright. You’re having a panic attack, in the stairwell at your job, in front of a patient’s partner. 
You can’t speak, so you shake your head instead. No.
“Yes, you are.” He assures. “Everything’s okay. Focus on your breathing. Try another one for me.” His hand covers his heart, and you focus on the way it ebbs and flows with the movement of his diaphragm, the pace of his breaths.
You manage to get one full inhale and exhale. And then you get another. Then a third, a fourth, until it’s coming easier, and your head doesn’t feel as fuzzy.
“Good job, that’s it.” Your fingers twist together, the grating noise of your jagged breathing smoothing out even more, and Simon nods encouragingly. “You’re doing great, sweetheart. Nice and slow.” Sweetheart. The word is bright, boundless and sweet as honey, the sentiment settling in your belly and growing warm. The two of you stand there, just breathing, staring at one another, for what feels like an eternity, until you find the strength to summon words. 
“I-I’m sorry.” You finally choke once you’ve got a better handle on yourself, hands going lax at your thighs.
“Nothin’ to be sorry about.” You’re about to brush it off, thorny lies starting to form in your mind, excuses and carefully crafted explanations fusing together when your work phone beeps, the low frequency different from the ones related to patient care. Shit. Already? Simon’s glances at it in your pocket and cocks his head.
“End of my shift.” You explain, moving towards the stairs, your hand trembling on the button to silence the alarm. The muscles in his neck flex, molars grinding together.
“Still feeling a little shaky?” He observes, and you look down to your feet, mortification crawling up your spine, blooming across your cheeks through heated blood vessels.
“Um…”
“Would you mind, maybe sitting with Johnny for a bit?” You do still have notes to do. “If his test is done? I have to run home, help the Prices' put Penny down. She’s been a bit fickle, lately. Missin’ her Da.” He rubs the back of his neck, chest flexing inside the charcoal grey hoodie, and for a weird, too long second, you wonder what it might be like to fall asleep there, or just close your eyes for a minute, even though it's something sweet and far away, unobtainable in every facet. Simon says your name, jogging your attention, and then takes the first step, partially turning like he wants to reach for you, but thinks better of it.
“Uh. Yeah, I… I can.”
You badge out and grab your stuff, keeping your tablet so you can complete your notes while you sit with Johnny. You’ve already checked his results, and when you slip inside the room, the attending is updating them, explaining how he has a very small bile leak, and will need an endoscopic procedure tomorrow morning.
The attending excuses himself, giving you a quick nod, and then Simon leans down, knocking their foreheads together tenderly. 
“Keep an eye on him, I hear he likes to make trouble.” Johnny smiles, pink-red color creeping up his neck into his cheeks, and Simon seems like he’s smiling, before he turns serious. “Behave. I won’t be too long.”
“I always behave.” He pats the side of the bed, beckoning you, and you shake your head, plopping down in the recliner to his right.
“I hear ye’re keepin’ me company, pretty girl?”
“I am. Got some notes to finish, heard this chair was pretty comfortable.” You quip back easily, and it feels natural, to be joking and laughing, to be hiding again.
“Well, I’ll try not to distract ye then.”
Your tablet clicks dark with a satisfying shutter, and when you place it face down, Johnny gives you one of his stupidly handsome smiles. “All finished?”
“Yeah, not too bad.” His phone vibrates against the tabletop, and with his good hand, he opens the message, turning it to show you the screen. It’s a picture of Penny, half asleep against Simon, clad in a pink onesie covered in little ducks. Her cheek is squished against him, long baby lashes fluttering on her skin. “She’s so cute.” You say, and he nods, flushed with pride. You glance at the contact name, Lou, and before you can stop yourself, a question bursts out: “Who’s Lou?”
“Our captain’s wife. She’s been helpin’ a lot, with Pen. Which is great, they’re getting a lot of girl time.”
“Your captain?”
“Aye.”
“Is that…” you want to ask but trail off. You don’t want to admit that you’ve heard gossip about them.
“Military. Simon an’ I work together, in a task force.” A task force. A task force sounds eerily close to special ops, and your nausea comes back with a vengeance.
“What… what kind of task force?”
“Global ops. Anti-terrorism, domestic threats, the lot. How I ended up here, with ye.” The image of your ex looms, his body tense in his gear, or the memory of his boots, sitting shiny by the door, one of them pulling back, swinging towards your stomach. “Bun?” Bun?
“Huh?” you blink. “Oh, sorry. Spaced out there for a second.”
“That’s alright. Simon said ye had a bit of a scare earlier?”
“No I uh, just couldn’t catch my breath, but I was fine. It was fine.” You deflect, moving on as quick as you can manage. “Did you call me bun? And… didn’t you call me bunny, earlier?” He gives you a sheepish look.
“Aye. Is our nickname for ye.”
“Wait, what? Why?”
“Well… ye look a bit like a bunny, and ye had that sticker the other day that Penny noticed.” Your face heats. “I know ye’re probably real soft like a bun, too.” Real soft? Is he… does he mean- your eyes widen, and he smirks.
“Johnny.” You flounder, helplessly, confused by his attention, this flirtation that seems to have grown into real affection, and he shifts slightly, leaning forward, reaching for your hand.
“Ye dinnae need to be afraid.” He coos. The words are a moon above a tide, pulling and reaching, dragging the swell of the waves higher and higher, until they threaten to pull you under, overwhelm you and drown you.
“I…” I don’t understand? I thought you were gay? I don’t know what is happening here? Johnny grimaces, and you immediately forget about the conversation and leap into action, jumping to your feet. “What is it? Where’s your pain?” Your hands hover over his belly, and he points to where his liver currently sits, slowly leaking inside his body, spilling bile that could eventually kill him if it hadn’t been caught. You pull down the blanket, unsnapping his gown to push it aside, checking for anything physically observable, site swelling, a rash, anything. “Does this hurt?” You cautiously press down, tapping slightly, watching his face for a reaction.
“No.” he says, and when you reach over to his other side, turning to watch his facial expressions, he moves with you, barely leaning, chin pointed in your direction.
His face is suddenly incredibly close to your face. And he looks… so handsome. So pretty, with his bright blue eyes and perfect bones, soft lips that part with an inhale. He dazzles you. Distracts you.
This is your patient, get it together. You’re a professional, act like it. 
“Does that hurt?” You croak, and his lips quirk into a half smile, a warm palm gliding over the small of your back.
“It doesnae hurt, bun.” He winks.
“Oh my god, were you faking?” You try to stand up, but the pressure on your spine is firm, and he chuckles.
“Can I tell ye a secret?” He’s fully serious now, question whispered just above your ear, and you nod.
“Of course.”
“Ye’v been drivin’ me mad today, pretty girl. Walkin’ around here wit’ no panties on.” Oh. Oh… my god. You shoot upwards, hand covering your mouth in shock, and he laughs, raising an eyebrow before his gaze drifts over the curve of your hip.
“Johnny!” you hiss, scandalized, and then guilt hits you like a train, like two tons of rocks have been dropped on top of you. Simon. “Johnny, you… you and Simon, you’re-“
“We’re lucky ye’ve come into our lives.” He finishes, and you frown, confused. “We think ye’re really special.” We. We?
“What did I miss?” Simon says from the doorway, and you jerk, stepping back like Johnny’s bed is on fire and you’ve just been burnt, eyes wide and wild. You feel like a child, caught with a hand in the cookie jar, but Simon doesn’t look angry. Just curious.
“Jus’ talking.” Johnny replies, and he starts to lower his bed, watching you with heavy eyes.
“Well. I should get going. I’ve got a few trains to make.” You glance at the clock, and then give them both a polite smile. Simon crosses his arms.
“Looks like you tired him out.” He comments, and they glance at one another, some sort of communication happening silently before he shrugs. “Let me drive you.”
“Oh, no. I couldn’t. It’s not… you just got back, and I’m fine, really. It’s not that far, I-“
“If it’s not that far, let him drive ye.” Johnny pipes up, and Simon piles on easily. 
"He's not going to let this go, and neither am I. Let me get you home safely, please." You shouldn't. You really, really shouldn't. "It's the least we can do." Your shoulders slump in defeat. It’s just a ride. It’s not crossing a line.
“Okay, then.” Johnny smiles, and Simon moves to his side, brushing his mask covered mouth against his forehead.
“She go down okay?” Johnny murmurs, tenderly cupping his cheek. 
“Like a champ. Promised I’d bring her tomorrow morning. Think she understood me.”
“Aye. She’s smarter than ye, so probably.” He teases, and they share a lighthearted laugh before Johnny’s bidding you a goodbye, and Simon directs you out the door.
“Uh, right here is fine.” You point to the curb, and Simon slows the car to a stop, turning to face you with that ever-present scrutiny, brows shoved down above his eyes.
“A hotel?” You swallow.
“My um, my flat is being renovated. It’s a whole thing so I just figured I wo-would stay somewhere else.” You want to flee, run out of this car and away from him, but he holds you in place so easily with just his eyes, so you sit there, frozen, one hand on the door handle, the other splayed against your thigh.
“Is everything alright? Earlier-“
“I’m fine.” You rush out, cutting him off. It’s well practiced, the denial, the avoidance, these things that you normally excel out.
But nothing is normal with them. 
He cocks his head, and then nods, and you breathe a little easier, turning to push the door open.
“Wait.” A hand tugs at you, thick, warm fingers lightly touching your wrist, and you whip back around to face him, eyes wide. “If you ever need anything, Johnny and I… we’re here.” Why is your heart beating so fast? 
“Oh, I uh… I’m fine, I don’t need-“
“That doesn’t work on me. Johnny either, pretty girl.” He tells you, and it’s so firm, so strong backed, that your mouth goes dry, and you gape at him. What? What doesn’t work? Is he… is he saying he doesn’t buy it? Doesn’t believe you? He’s reading your mind, subtly raising an eyebrow, and then nodding. “Put my number in your phone.” He instructs, and like a robot, like a vampire’s Thrall, you pull it from your bag, swiping open the contact list and pressing each number in the order he gives it. “We’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks once you’re finished, and you mumble a shaky yes, finally pushing the door open, and climbing out.
“Alright, well. Good night.” You bend at the waist, giving him a wave through the window, and his jaw moves beneath the mask, shifting to the side, eyes squinting at the corners. He's smiling. 
“Good night, bunny.”
1K notes · View notes
ssahotchnerr · 4 months
Note
GIRL 👏🏻 DAD 👏🏻 AARON 👏🏻 learning how to do his wife’s hair so he can do baby girls hair when she’s grown
uncharted territory
YOU'RE 👏🏻 SO 👏🏻 RIGHT 👏🏻 cw; girl dad!aaron, fem!reader, some small suggestiveness, fluff <3
"can i braid your hair?"
you looked at aaron as your book dropped onto your lap, both a bit bewildered and astonished, "can you what?"
"braid your hair." the expression adorned on his face was almost troubled as he approached you, and rather shyly at that, actually.
"that's what i thought you said." your eyebrow quirked, displaying a caring and soft confusion. "why?"
"jus' something penelope said today, it made me realize that i don't know how to do hair. never had the need to learn with jack." the grumpiness on his face didn't falter, a small huff escaping him. "i know she doesn't have much of it now, but i don't want to be one of those dads who attempt to do their daughter's hair, it's a phenomenal disaster, and it looked better off before i even touched it. i refuse to send her off somewhere someday looking like she went through a windstorm."
"aaron, honey, i don't think you're capable of anything too disastrous." you teased gently, but with full reassurance.
he almost smiled, the ends of his lips tugging upwards, but evidently he wasn't fully convinced. "so can i? i need the practice, desperately."
"of course," you nodded, scooting towards the center of the bed and sitting cross-legged, aaron seated behind you.
once situated, he took your hair gingerly into his hands, "how do i..."
"you're going to want to separate it into three sections," you started, pausing to let him do so. "kinda gather it like a ponytail to get started."
"okay, that i've done before."
"yeah, you're good at that." you rolled your eyes, a faint blush tinting your cheeks and you could easily picture the smirk that was definitely plastered on aaron's face. "you good?"
"i think so."
"take the right side, and cross it over the middle section." you instructed, again giving him a small window of time to weave your hair gently. "then do the same on the left, the right section should have switched places with the middle."
"mhm." aaron hummed gently in confirmation, biting down softly onto his lip in concentration, crossing the left section over the now center.
"and just repeat down, alternating as you just did."
"that's it?"
"that's literally it."
aaron repeated the cycle, braiding with ease. "and i'm not hurting you? am i pulling-"
"no no no, you're completely fine." you reached a bit behind, your hand finding his knee and giving it a comforting squeeze. "keep going."
although it was a simple braid, his fingers nearly got tangled a few times, due to the size of said fingers and the limited, slightly tight space that came along with braiding. he also tugged your head back and forth a small amount, but you followed the direction of his gentle pulls. as he worked silently, your heart could only swell at his genuine concern and want to learn - just for your little girl.
once he reached the end of your braid, you tore off the hair tie that was conveniently around your wrist. "secure with this."
aaron was quick learner in nature; he watched you intently as you pulled your braid over your shoulder to inspect it quickly. it was a bit loose, a tad crooked, but the gist of it was there - almost perfect.
you peered behind at him, thoroughly impressed. "not bad."
"really?" aaron asked surprisingly, but with an utterly pleased expression.
"but don't get too cocky," you narrowed your eyebrows playfully, swiveling to face him. "this is the easy one to master. there's french braids, dutch, fishtail. one day she'll want one braid, maybe two the next. trust me, it's bound to get way more complicated than this."
the proud gleam in his eyes faded a bit as his face blanched, pulling into a pained expression, deadpanning. "you're kidding."
"but don't worry, we have plenty of time."
1K notes · View notes
skz-bee123 · 5 months
Text
Telling Skz your ex texted you
Stray Kids reaction
A/N: So here's another reaction after a very long time. I hope it tuns out alright, I haven't gone through and edited it so if there's any mistakes, no there isn't. Jisung's one is again quite short, I don't know why this keeps happening to me but I find him very hard to write, hopefully a one-shot of him will make up for that (I've got a few ideas, I just need to write it out first). For Seungmin's part, the ending is a bit iffy but other then that, enjoy!
Word count: 5.2K
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Bang Chan
"Hey babe?" You called out to your boyfriend who was in the kitchen getting himself a drink.
"Yeah?"
"My ex texted me, what should I text back?"
It goes silent for a couple moments before you call out to him again, "Channie?"
Loud footsteps make their way into the lounge and you see Chan, with a look of annoyance on his face as he makes his way over to you.
"What the fuck does he want?" Chan says as he stands in front of you.
"Just wanted to know if we could meet up." You respond.
Chan goes quiet and you wait for him to speak, watching him as you see his brain ticking over.
"He...wants to meet up?" Chan finally speaks.
You nod your head in confirmation.
"Hasn't that dickhead already put your through enough already? Why is he wanting to talk to you again?" Chan sits down next to you and grabs your hand. "I'm not going to be one of those boyfriends that tells you you can't go, because ultimately it's your choice. But...sweetheart...he put you through hell, he doesn't deserve to see you ever again."
Chan sighs before speaking again, "like I said, it's your choice. Either way I support you, I just personally think that you should ignore him, block him, just get rid of him."
You stay silent for a while before your phone dings again. You look down at it before pulling up the contact of your ex. You block him.
"I did it." You finally speak up.
"What did you do?" Chan asks, grabbing your hand.
You give Chan's hand a squeeze, "I blocked him, I don't know why I hadn't in the first place."
"It's alright baby, I get why you couldn't before."
"Yeah...but I've got you now so, I don't need him anymore."
"That's right, you've got me. And I'm not going anywhere."
Lee Minho
You had gotten a text from your ex.
You chewed on your bottom lip, making it raw and hurt as you agonised over what to do.
You knew you should just delete the messages that kept coming in but just couldn't work up the courage to do it.
You and your ex had not ended on good terms, he was borderline abusive and it took you awhile to work up the strength to leave him. When you finally did, you weren't the same person anymore.
You often got scared by loud shouting and raised hands always made you cower. Minho, you boyfriend of 7 months, knew all about this. He knew about the type of person your ex was and helped you break out of your shell again. He helped you become the person you once were before your ex took that away from you.
Despite all of this, Minho has never been a super protective boyfriend. He never really made a move to go out of his way to protect you, he's never actually really had the need to. Until now.
You were starting to feel anxiety making its way through your body, it clung to you in the most uncomfortable ways possible, squeezing the little bit of air out of your body.
You wanted to tell Minho, why? You weren't even sure yourself. To vent? For advice? To get him to deal with your ex? You don't know. All you know is that your shaking hands and fast-racing heart needed to be with him.
You make your way into your room where Minho was laying on your bed, watching his phone.
Minho looks up at your over the top of his phone before he goes back to watching. A few moments go by and you don't move from your spot in the doorway and Minho pauses his phone and places it down beside him, sitting up and looking over at you.
"Y/n-" Minho goes to say but is cut off from your phone ringing.
You look down and see your ex trying to call you. A sniffle escapes from you as tears well up in your eyes.
"I-" You try to get the words out but you're overcome with tears.
Minho stands up from the bed and makes his way over to you, he grabs your hands and pulls you over to the bed, sitting you both down. Minho gently wipes away your tears and looks at you with a concerned look on his face. "What happened?" He asks.
"My ex texted me." You whisper out, looking down at your hands.
A moment of silence passes before Minho speaks, "What did he say."
"That he wants to talk. He wants to meet up with me and apologise for how things were. he wants to see if we can work things out and get back together."
It goes quite between you two and you look up. Minho's face is blank as h stares off to the side, whatever he's thinking or feeling right now, you can't tell.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you with this." You mumble out.
Minho's face whips around to face you and he opens his mouth. Before he gets the chance to say something, he is once again cut off by your phone ringing.
You feel even more tears well up in your eyes as you see it's your ex trying to call you again. Before you even get the chance to decline the call, your phone is swiped out of your hands.
You watch as Minho answers the call and places it up towards his ear.
"This isn't Y/n." Minho says. There's a moment of silence before he speaks again. "Her fucking boyfriend dickhead."
You watch as a look of pure anger forms on Minho's face, "now you listen here you fucking piece of shit. You contact my girl one more time and I promise you that I'll find you and make your life a living hell. Do you understand me?"
Minho seems to be satisfied with himself as he ends the call, blocking the number of your ex. He throws your phone over to the side of the bed and runs a hand through his hair before looking at you.
"You're not a bother Y/n."
Hearing this confuses you, "huh?"
"Before that son of a bitch called, you said you didn't want to bother me with this. Y/n, you're not a bother to me."
"I just...I just didn't know what to do. You just never really seem to care about this stuff so I just assumed..." you trail off.
"I don't care?" Minho looks at you with a hurt look on his face, "you really think I don't care about you?"
"NO!" You quickly scramble to explain yourself. "I know you care about me but you just never really seem to care about you know...other guys...and like what sets me off and that. I'm sorry, I don's really know what I'm saying."
"Baby..." Minho starts, bringing his hand up to your face. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way because it's far from true."
"Huh?"
"Before you met the boys, I had a long talk with them. Of course I didn't tell them everything but a few basics. You know how they can get with new people they meet, they're loud and touchy. I didn't want them to overwhelm you so I told them to just watch themselves. Even now, sometimes I know that they can get a bit much so I step in. I step in and make up reasons to excuse us because I know you need to have some space but you're too scared to say anything."
"I'm always watching you baby. Always." Minho continues. "It kills me to know what you went through and i know that although you're doing so much better, somethings things set you back. And that's okay. But I know that these setbacks really affect you, so I watch you. I watch so that if you need me to step in, I will. I always will, baby."
"I'm sorry, I really didn't know." You say.
"It's alright baby. You mean to much to me and it hurts me to know you're upset."
You push Minho down onto his back and lay on top of him, putting your head underneath his head, snuggling into his chest. You feel his arms come up to wrap around you protectively as Minho places a kiss on the top of your head.
"I love you Min." You whisper out as your eyes fall close, exhausted from today's events.
"I love you too baby, so much more than you'll ever know."
Seo Changbin
It first happened when you were getting ready to go out for breakfast with your boyfriend, Changbin. You had just finished putting your coat on and was waiting for Changbin to come out of the bathroom so that you both could leave when you got the text.
At first you didn't quite know who it was from, simply thinking it was from a wrong number, so you just brushed it off, not giving it a second thought.
The second time it happened, you and Changbin were walking back from breakfast. It was this time that it clicked to you who exactly was texting you. Blocking the number, you thought that that would be it. Of course though, you were wrong.
All throughout the day you had been receiving text messages from you ex, some pleading for you to take him back, others threatening you for leaving. It left you with an uncomfortable feeling inside of you and you were not quite yourself.
You thought you had been quite good at keeping it to yourself, but your boyfriend, who had noticed right away that something was up, thought that you would come to him when or if you needed too.
But after going to entire day with you looking over your shoulder, Changbin was currently very worried. Worried enough that he decided that if you weren't going to say anything to him, he was going to have to make the first move.
You both were currently sitting down on a park bench, just watching the scenery, it was just reaching sunset.
"Baby?" Changbin calls out to you.
"Yeah?" You turn towards Changbin with a smile on your face.
"Something's been bothering you all day and I've been waiting for you to come to me about it but you haven't. I just don't like seeing you so uncomfortable."
"Nothing's wrong."
"You've been constantly checking your phone and looking over your shoulder, I'm worried baby."
You start to chew your bottom lip and Changbin notices this, he reaches a hand up and gently pulls your lip out from your teeth with his thumb. "None of that love, you'll just hurt yourself. Tell me what's wrong?"
You open your mouth to say something but suddenly your eyes widen as you look over Changbin's shoulder and you're squeezing his hand. Changbin looks over his shoulder and watches a man walk towards you both.
Not quite recognising him but at the same time feeling that this man is somehow familiar to him, Changbin still protectively moves in front of you and watches as the man stops in front of the both of your. He completely disregards Changbin and speak to you.
"Babe, I've been texting you all day. How come you haven't been texting me back huh?" The man speaks.
Changbin turns towards you and all he sees is fear written all over your face and that's enough for him to feel an immense amount of anger well up inside of him.
The man steps forward and reaches out to grab your hand but before he gets the chance Changbin grabs his wrist.
"I don't know who you think you are. But she is not your 'babe'. Changbin speaks with venom in his words and pushes the man's hand away.
The man turns towards Changbin with annoyance, lacing his voice as he speaks. "And who are you?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm Y/n's boyfriend. And you are?"
"Whatever, Y/n babe. Comeback to me, yeah? We can talk about it." The man, who Changbin now recognises as your ex, takes a step towards you and at this Changbin stands up, shoving the man away.
"You take one step closer to her and I swear to God you're going to regret it. Leave and don't contact her again, do you understand?" Despite being shorter than your ex, Changbin was bigger.
"I said. Do. You. Understand?" Changbin says putting emphasis on each individual word.
Your ex nods his head before turning away and walking off. It isn't until your ex is completely out of sight that Changbin sits back down and turns towards you. Noticing the silent tears rolling down your face, Changbin pulls you into a hug.
"We don't need to talk about it now. But I think we need to have a talk later, yeah?" Changbin mumbles into your hair.
You pull away from Changbin and start to apologise. "I'm-" but before you could even finish your sentence you're cut off by Changbin.
No, none of that. Let's just go back home, make some hot chocolate and cuddle while we watch movies, okay?"
You nod your head at him and he stands up, gently pulling you up with him. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Hwang Hyunjin
"Jinnie?"
You wait for an answer only to receive none. You sigh and make your way over to the bed where your boyfriend was wrapped up in the blankets.
"Jin?"
You see Hyunjin's eyes look at you before he turns around so his back is facing you. You sit down on the bed next to him and tug at the blankets. You feel a smile form on your face as you feel Hyunjin tug the blankets back from you.
"Baby."
"Oh am I still your baby huh? I thought you had replaced me." As Hyunjin says this he turns to look at you. Noticing the big smilie on your face he just pouts. "And now you're laughing at me."
You flop onto him, wrapping your arms and legs around Hyunjin. "I'm not laughing."
"On the inside you definitely are."
"Okay maybe that's true but it's only because you're so cute."
Hyunjin narrows his eyes at you suspiciously.
"Baby, you know that I love you right
and that me texting my ex, who I am completely over by the way, would never change that? Beside you, my love, are a lot more handsome.” 
Hyunjin sighs and a smile finally makes its way onto his face. “I know. But it definitely doesn’t pain me to hear it again from you.” 
You roll your eyes at him painfully. “Well if that’s what it takes to stop you from your dramatics, that I’ll tell you over and over again.” 
“Dramatics?” Hyunjin looks at you offended. “I am NOT dramatic.” 
“Jinnie, you are the definition of dramatic.” 
“You know what? For that, I’m not speaking to you again.” Hyunjin gently pushes you off him and rolls over so he’s facing away from you as your laughter sounds around the room.
Han Jisung
“You’ve been staring at your phone for a while, is everything alright?” 
You turn to look up at Jisung who had asked you that question, you smile at him softly before replying, “Yeah, Minjun texted me.” 
“Minjun, your ex?”
You nod your head before looking back down at your phone, replying to a text Minjun sent you. 
Some time passes and you’ve noticed that Jisung has been really quiet, you look up at him to see him staring off, a spaced out look on his face. 
“Ji?” You gently call out for Jisung. 
Jisung snaps out of the daze he was in and looks at you, “Yeah?” 
You move closer to where Jisung is sitting and grab his hand, rubbing your thumb over his. “You were staring into nothing, just wanting to make sure you were okay.” 
“You…your ex.” Jisung mumbles.
“What about him?” 
“How come you’re talking to him?” 
“Oh, you know how he ended up dating one of my friends after we broke up?” 
Jisung nods his head. 
“Well he wants to propose to her, just asking me for some advice on how to go about it.” 
“Oh.” You see Jisung visibly relax and you place your head on his shoulder, snuggling into him. 
“You don’t have to worry Ji, I would never leave you.” 
“I know, I guess I just got into my head a bit is all.” 
With the hand that’s holding Jisung’s, you bring it up to your lips, and place a kiss on his hand. “I know my love, that’s why I’m always here to bring you out of it when you get too far.”
You feel a kiss being placed on the top of your head as Jisung mumbles, ‘I love you’ into your hair. 
Lee Felix
You and your ex ended your relationship on good terms. At the time you both just realised that you weren’t right for each other and agreed that maybe being a couple just wasn’t good for you both.
Your ex ended up getting a promotion at work and had to go overseas for some time. You were extremely happy for him but ended up losing contact.
That’s why when your ex texted you out of the blue, you were surprised yes, but also happy. 
“What’s got you all happy, my love?” 
You looked over at Felix who walked into the living room where you were sitting on the couch. 
“Do you remember Minjun?”
This causes Felix to stop in his tracks. “Like..your ex Minjun?” 
You nod your head, “Mhm.”
“Yeah I do. What about him?” 
“He’s back in Seoul and asked if we could meet up.” 
“Oh.” 
You look up from your phone then and over to Felix.
“Lix.” You call out softly. “Are you okay?” 
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” Felix smiles at you, although you could tell it was forced. “Are you gonna…meet up with him?” 
“Probably, it would be nice to see how he’s doing.”
“Oh..that’s-that’s good then.” 
A bit confused, you slowly nod your head. “Uh yeah, it is. Are you sure everything is alright?” 
“Yeah, everything’s fine, really.” 
You stare at Felix for a moment before continuing on. “Well, Minjun is officially back to live in Seoul now. He’s worked his way up and is now extending his branch more.” 
“You certainly know a lot about Minjun.” 
“We’ve just been texting, trying to find time to catch up.” 
Felix goes really quiet then. You could tell something was bothering him but he just wouldn’t admit it. Getting a bit worried you sit closer to Felix and grab his hands. 
“Lix..what’s wrong? And don’t say it’s nothing, because it obviously is something.”
Felix doesn’t look at you as he speaks. “You and Minjun.” 
“What about us?” You asked, slightly confused.
“You both were very close.”
“We were.”
“And he’s a very handsome guy who is back and wants to meet up with you.” 
It suddenly clicks in your head what was up with Felix. Reaching over, you gently grab Felix’s face in your hands and turn his face to look at yours. “Lixie.” 
“Yeah?”
“I love you so much.” 
Felix eyes widen as you say those words, neither of you had spoken them outloud before, so this moment meant a lot. “You love me?” 
“I do.” You nod your head. “Very much, and some silly old ex isn’t going to change that okay?” 
“Even if he’s really handsome.” 
“In my eyes, no one is more handsome than you. And I will fight anyone who says otherwise.” 
Felix lets out a soft laugh, “I love you too.” 
You smile at Felix before leaning in and placing your head on his chest, closing your eyes. You feel Felix run his fingers through your hair as you feel him relax underneath you. 
“Don’t overthink it okay? I love you a lot and that won’t ever change.” You say, your words muffled from your face being stuffed in Felix’s chest. 
“I know my love and I love you a lot too.” Felix says before closing his eyes and falling asleep with you held tightly to his chest. 
Kim Seungmin
You and Seugmin were just chilling on your couch. He for once had a few days off and chose to spend it with you. It was silent between both you had, had been for the past couple of hours until you broke the silence.
You had been debating with yourself whether or not you should speak to Seungmin about this, but seeing as he was your boyfriend, you decided that you should. It would honestly make you feel better if you did. 
“Hey Minnie?” You finally speak up.
Seungmin just hums not looking up from his phone but letting you know that you had his attention. 
“My um…my ex texted me.” 
“Nice try Y/n.” 
You look at Seungmin confused. “Huh?” 
Seungmin, still not looking at you, answers “I’ve seen this over tik tok. I know you’ve been getting me good with your pranks but this time it’s not gonna work babe.” 
You go quiet for a bit, silently cursing yourself for all the pranks you’ve pulled on your boyfriend. But this time, it wasn’t a prank, your ex had actually texted you and it had left you feeling uncomfortable. 
Not quite knowing what to say you just turn into yourself, staring off into space. 
“Y/n?” 
You look over to Seungmin to see him watching you. “Hmm?” 
“Something’s wrong.” Seungmin doesn’t ask, he states.
You don’t say anything and this causes Seungmin to move closer towards you, grabbing your hand. 
“You weren’t pranking me were you?” Seungmin asks. “Your ex actually did text you.” 
You just nod your head and show him the text messages from your phone. You watch as a wave of anger washes over his face before turning towards you, locking your phone and throwing it gently towards the side. 
“I’m sorry.” You blurt. 
“What are you sorry for?” 
“For always pranking you, it’s not..I mean I just…I don’t know. I guess I thought they were funny but…” You say turning your face away from Seungmin but Seungmin’s fingers gently turn your face to look back at him. 
“They are funny. I might not show it, but the joy it gives you when you successfully prank me, makes me happy. And besides, all your pranks are completely harmless.”
“I guess so.” 
You watch as Seungmin sighs before he leans forward and places a small kiss on your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds. “Why don’t you let me deal with this douchebag of an ex and then we can talk about all the pranks I know you have planned for the members, I’m more than willing to be an accomplice.”
“Yeah?” 
“Oh yeah baby, the two of us together? The boys are not gonna know what’s hit them, and let’s just say, it’s gonna be amazing.” 
Yang Jeongin
Your ex texting you had been completely out of the blue. Your relationship had ended because of the fact that he was moving, needing to move countries because of work and you couldn’t because your own responsibilities kept you where you were. 
So your relationship ended on mutual terms. Over time, the two of you did end up losing contact with each other, simply because of time differences and the fact that you had found someone new. 
You had been at the boys practice, having finished work for the day, you decided to drop by and watch them. And although you and Jeongin weren’t heavy on the pda, it was obvious that Jeongin needed you there. Not saying it out loud but sending you a smile and a squeeze to your hand was all it took for you to stay longer than orginially planned. 
It was while the boys were dancing that you recieved the text from your ex. 
The conversation with your ex went as so:
Ex: Hey Y/n, haven't spoken for a long while now. I’m currently back in Seoul and was wondering if you wanted to meet up?”
You: Oh Minjun! How have you been? It’s been what, 3 years since you’ve last been back to Seoul?” 
Ex: Yea, it’s been awhile. But the company has been quite successful and they’ve made a branch here in Seoul, I was made to move with it, and oversee it all.
You: Wow, that’s amazing, I’m proud of you.
Ex: Thanks! So about that catch up? What do you say?
You: Yeah of course! Just let me know what you're free and we can sort something out.
You and your ex organise a time and date to meet, you're so engrossed in the conversation with your ex that you don’t even realise that the boys are on a break and that they’re currently trying to get your attention.
“Y/n!”
Your name being yelled causes you to look up and you notice all the boys, obviously taking a break have sat all around you and are looking at you. 
“Yeah?” You smile at them all before looking over at Jeongin who was calling your name.
“I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past couple of minutes.” Jeongin says. 
“Oh sorry Innie, Minjun texted me and I’ve just been making plans with him.” You respond, grabbing Jeongin’s hand and bringing it onto your lap, showing him the messages between you and your ex. 
“How’s it going so far?” You turn to the boys as Jeongin reads through the messages. 
“It’s going, that’s all I can really say at the moment.” Chan speaks for the rest of the boys who all nod their heads. 
“Well I know you all will get there, I mean, you always do.” 
Jeongin hands you your phone back, not saying anything as you continue to talk with all the boys.
“Ok, I know we all noticed it but I’m gonna be the one to say it.” Jisung says, interrupting the conversation you were having with Felix. 
You turn to Jisung with a raised eyebrow, “noticed what?” 
“Jeongin.” Jisung points towards him. 
“What about him?” You asked confused.
“I’m not the only one right?” Jisung ignores your question and asks his own. 
The other members all nod their heads. You turn to look at Jeongin but don’t notice anything wrong with him. 
“What’s wrong with Jeongin?” You ask again. 
“Ever since you mentioned at Minjeon? Minjin? guy, and then letting Jeongin read the messages the obviously happened between you both, Jeongin’s had his jaw clenched and a far off look on his face.” Seungmin finally answers you. 
“Oh Minjun? He’s my ex, he just texted cause he wants to meet up.” You smile, completely oblivious. 
“Your ex? You ended on good terms then?” Chan asks. 
You nod your head. “Yeah, he had to move countries because of work but I couldn’t leave home because of school and work. So we both decided to break up. He’s currently back in Seoul, for the first time in 3 years, just texted me and asked if we could catch up.” 
“What else did you guys text about?” 
“Oh he just mentioned about going to the cafe where we had our first date, it ended up becoming one we went to all the time.” You smile at the memories. 
“He also called you pretty and that he couldn’t wait to see you in person. Said he missed you a lot.” Jeongin speaks for the first time. 
You turn towards him with a confused look. “He didn’t call me pretty but he did say that he missed me and wanted to catch up.” 
You look at all the other boys and notice them glancing at each other. “I’m sorry, have I done something wrong?” You ask nervously.
“No love, it’s just that, he was your first boyfriend right?” Chan smiles at you. 
You nod your head, “yeah, he was my first and then i’ve been with Jeongin ever since.” 
“Alright well, from what I’m getting here, your ex doesn’t have a new partner?” 
“Not that I know of. But we haven't spoken in a while, so maybe.” 
“Okay, so let’s say he doesn’t, and from the look on Jeongin’s face after he read the messages. Your ex was trying to flirt with you.” 
“What?!” You exclaim in shock. You quickly grab your phone and read through the messages, realising that it did indeed look like your ex was flirting with you. 
“Jeongin I…I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. I wasn’t flirting with him, I promise.” You quickly rush to explain. 
Jeongin doesn’t say anything, just clenches his jaw. With a nudge from Chan, Jeongin speaks. 
“No baby, it’s alright, I know you weren’t flirting with him. I was just jealous I guess.” Jeongin reaches over and brushes some hair away from your face, letting his hand rest on your face. 
You reach a hand up and grab Jeongin’s one that was resting on your face. You smile at him before speaking. “I can cancel my hang out with him if you want?”
“No baby, you don’t have to do that on my terms. I know you were looking forward to catching up with him.”
“Yeah, but you’re obviously uncomfortable about that and I would rather just not go.” 
“Why don’t you just text him and make it clear that you’ve got a boyfriend? You can still go and hang out with him, just as long as he knows you're taken.”
“Taken but the most amazing guy ever.” You grin, a toothy grin at Jeongin.
Jeongin laughs under his breath a little before leaning forward and placing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you," he mumbles into your head.
“I love you too.” 
Plus a little extra of the boys looking at your both with heart eyes. 
“Omg they’re so cute.” 
“I know right, like can you believe we raised him to be like this.” 
“Yeah and Y/n, what a cutie.”
“Ahh I just wanna squeeze their cheeks.” 
A slapping sound can be heard as Minho looks down at Felix, Jisung, Hyunjin and Changbin who were fangirling over the two of you. 
“They're obviously having a moment, leave them alone.” Chan says. 
“Exactly, Jeongin’s very private when it comes to his relationship with Y/n, let’s just leave them alone.” Seungmin says. 
“Awww, but they’re just so cute.” Felix whines. 
“Yeah! Even you all must admit that this is just so heartwarming to watch.” Jisung says. 
“Maybe it is, but let’s leave them to it alright boys.” Chan says as he rounds the pouting boys up and walks them out the door. 
As all the boys leave, Chan and Minho linger in the door, a soft smile on both their faces. 
“They are really cute though.” Chan says to Minho. “Makes me want to wrap them up and protect them both from the world.” 
“I know how you feel, come on your old man, let’s get these kids some food. Then we’ll bring some back for the two lovebirds.” Minho says with a small smile on his face as both he and Chan leave both you and Jeongin in the dance practice room to spend some time together. 
2K notes · View notes
charliemwrites · 5 months
Text
Mafia!Price warm up because I am… so tired. I’ve had back-to-back events the last few days and ya bitch canNOT hang. So, while I rehydrate and wait for caffeine to work it’s magic, here’s this:
Part 1 here
No Content Warnings
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Mr. Price is the best boss you’ve ever had. He’s straightforward and blunt, but unfalteringly courteous. Likes things a certain way — his own way — but that’s nothing you’re unfamiliar with from rich men responsible for billions. At very least, he seems to respect when you challenge him.
“We’ve always done records this way,” he says.
“Yes, sir,” you answer serenely, “but that was before you had me.”
He stares you down and you beam right back, tablet balanced on your forearm. One beat, two. In the corner of your eye, you see Gaz shift. You tilt your head at your boss.
He sits back in his big office chair, thumb swiping over his index and middle fingers. A gesture you’ve been mentally cataloguing as “contemplative” — perhaps deciding if he’s annoyed or amused. You don’t let yourself get nervous seeing it; you’re good at your job and you know it. He’s going to know it too, by god.
“And what do you have to do with it, luv?”
Your smile stretches wider as you take that as an invitation to round his desk. He turns and shifts a bit to make room for you, eyebrows ticking up as you set a neatly paper-clipped report in front of him, highlighted for convenience.
“See here?” You point at one section, a list of finance records. “Inconsistencies that the accountants took two months to notice. Two!”
He grunts as you set it aside, face up, for further perusal and then show him the next set. Different highlighter (and a smiley face in the corner).
“And look here, doing it this way, we noticed the discrepancies within a week,” you explain.
He picks up the page, eyes scanning over it thoroughly before setting it down. Taps his index finger over the discrepancy (circled in bright red) twice.
“Would you happen to have the account — ah, thank you.”
You hum, smoothing the sticky note (hot pink, shaped like a heart) onto the page. “So what do you think, sir?”
He runs a hand down his face, palm rasping over his beard. But there is a grateful note to his gaze as he glances at you.
“We’ll be doing it this way from now on, then.”
“Thrilling, sir. I’ll send out a memo.”
He waves you off, frown already forming on his face. You politely leave his office, stop by the break room to make a fresh cup of tea (a dollop of cream only, no sugar) and knock on the closed door. It’s Gaz that opens it.
“For the boss,” you say. “Before heads start rolling.”
“You’re a doll,” he breathes, accepting the cup and slipping back inside.
You happily toddle back to your desk and begin calling appointment confirmations. You’ve got about a million emails and a hundred calls to make.
Working for Price also comes with some… eccentricities. For one, you have a driver now.
Usually Farah, sometimes her partner Alex. On the rare occasion it’s Gaz. They always usher you into the backseat. On rainy days (so, most days in the UK) they hold an umbrella over your head while you scurry into the luxury leather interior of whatever stupidly expensive ride you’re taking.
That was a non-negotiable when you and Mr. Price discussed the details of your employment contract with him. Something about safety…? You feel silly being driven to work as an assistant, but it was your first encounter with the Steel Gaze of Decision and it was unfortunately effective.
Not that you mind the rides! All three of your usual drivers are wonderful. So friendly and chatty. You love hearing about Alex’s niece and Farah’s hobbies, Gaz’s little “spats” with Soap. You spoil them with extra treats from whatever bakery you make them stop at for morning breakfast. (Always local, you love supporting small businesses and strong arm Price into doing so as well).
There’s the gun as well. You’ve only seen it once or twice, always discreetly hidden under his suit jacket. A shoulder holster, all black. Pretend that you don’t see it because… well, you’re not entirely sure it’s legal and you’d rather live in the blissful cloud of plausible deniability.
And speaking of — there’s his bodyguard. To be fair, bodyguards aren’t a new or weird presence with your bosses. Expensive men, they need protection. Ghost is a different kind though.
He always covers the lower half of his face — actually, he’s covered head to toe. Usually in black, sometimes with little skeleton or skull motifs. And he’s fucking big, which is saying something because Mr. Price isn’t a small man either.
Ghost hardly interacts with you, but he’s unfailingly polite when he does. Not talkative, but he holds doors for you, has walked you down to the car. Even once attitude-checked a guest that decided to be rude to you. Didn’t even say anything, just walked into the guy’s personal bubble and stared him down until he subsided. Then he turned, gave you a nod, and you squeezed his arm before toddling off to let Price know his appointment had arrived.
All around the vibes in the office are pleasant, if sometimes stuffy. A little odd. All of his employees are polite if not kind to you, and Price himself is a fair and reasonable man — at least with you.
(The first time you heard him raise his voice through the closed office door nearly scared the daylights out of you. He always uses a low, even tone when speaking to you, so to hear his voice booming like that was something of a shock. Even more shocking was when he opened the door — damn near throwing his “guest” out — before turning to you.
“Call Farah when you have a mo’, would you?” He asked, calm as you please.
You blinked, still having war flashbacks of your last boss. “Yes, sir.”
“Cheers, luv.”)
There’s also the “field trips” as you call them.
Mr. Price is something of a very “hands on” businessman (“micromanager” you tease when he’s in a good mood) who has a hand in several industries. One of them is shipping. Which means that sometimes you find yourself standing beside him in warehouses or at loading docks. And of course you have to go, you’re his assistant! You take meeting notes, provide information or report details. Basically act as his second brain while he reams out idiots or organizes plans.
You suck it up, but you rather hate the smell of low tide. And the occasional gusts of blood on the sea breeze from fishermen gutting their catches. Price catches you looking ill once or twice and at least makes an effort to keep things short after that.
“Poor thing,” Soap teases when you’re in the back of the car, fussing at your wind-swept hair. “Get a bit blown, did you?”
“MacTavish,” Price snaps.
That’s the other thing. Even the slightest hint of suggestive or inappropriate words at your expense are met with firm, almost harsh, reprimand from your boss. It does wonders for you nerves and your respect for him.
“Wish I’d known we were going to the docks,” you sigh, carefully picking at pins to fix your hair. “I would have used more hairspray.”
“Thought I told you?” Price says.
“No, sir, you did not,” you answer, long-suffering. “You know you can put it into the scheduling app, right?”
He blinks. “Scheduling app.”
You blink back at him. “Oh, dear. Here, look at this.”
You spend the entire ride back to the office showing him how your scheduling software works so that you don’t have to deal with any more surprise dock visits.
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Masterlist
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verstappen-cult · 6 months
Text
HOW YOU GET THE GIRL | CL16
— 02. THE MEDDLING
PREV. PART | NEXT PART — [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]
summary: in which charles has an embarrassing crush on alex's childhood best friend and everyone meddles. content warnings: faceclaim is taylor hill but you can picture her as you’d like! some cursing and for the sake of the smau imola was not canceled. note: thank you sm for the love you showed the first part! once again if you see some mistakes please know that english is not my first language and i noticed them once everything was finished. if you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know! ♡
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INSTAGRAM STORIES
MAY 14, 2023.
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TWITTER
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INSTAGRAM POST
📍 ROMA, ITALY
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Liked by yourusername, lilymhe and 432,503 others
alex_albon Don’t believe anything they say, I won ⛳️
view all 3,799 comments
lilymhe i’m not gonna say anything. 🤐
user35 so it is true. they were with charles and Y/N user36 We don’t know that user37 someone working there confirmed it
charles_leclerc mate you fell like three times
user38 WE GOT THE CONFIRMATION user39 omg this makes it real user40 BUT WAS Y/N ACTUALLY THERE
user41 not his entire comment section filled with charles and Y/N fans 🙄🙄🙄
user42 PARENTS
yourusername shut up you know i won
user43 OH MY GOD OH MY GODDDD user44 i cant believe it i’m having a crisis over this user45 context pls user46 everyone’s saying they were in a double date and apparently this is the confirmation.
pierregasly thanks for (not) inviting me!!!
📍 ROMA, ITALY
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Liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya and 756,223 others
yourusername i won. i have witnesses.
view all 2,498 comments
alex_albon keep saying that 🥱
yourusername SHUT UP
user47 not a single pic of charles and her together but we know they were together
user48 feeding us crumbs
user49 she looks so pretty
zendaya tom keeps saying we need to play golf when you’re back in london.
yourusername tell him i’m gonna kick his ass
landonorris you should play with people that actually knows how to play: ME
lilymhe SORRY? yourusername dw lils, i have your back
user50 i love how she’s befriending everyone
user51 thanks to alex user52 and your point is? user51 she’s using him for his fame user53 LOOOOOOL
pierregasly thanks for (not) inviting me!!!
user54 what’s more hilarious to me than this whole “double date” discourse are pierre comments on both alex and Y/N posts because they did not invite him.
Y/N & ALEX’S iMESSAGE
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THURSDAY MAY 18, 2023 — PRESS CONFERENCE
charles is sitting next to lando and max, pierre next to him as alex stands in front of them. he’s aware they’re talking about what they’re expecting from this weekend, but he can’t seem to focus on what they are actually saying, only picking up pieces of the conversation. he’s too focused on his phone, the message thread he has with Y/N staring back at him. the last text he has from her is just a simple ‘cool’ after he was trying to play it cool.
“what you doing, charlie?” max asks, playfully poking him in the ribs. he immediately locks his phone, raising his head only to find that everyone is looking at him already.
“i know what he’s doing.” lando wiggles his eyebrows and charles wonders if he really needs his fingers to race. “you screwed up.”
charles knows he screwed up, and definitely doesn’t need lando reminding him the awful mistake he made for just trying not to sound too intense because, of course, he’s made that mistake in the past. and every girl he’s had something with always said the same: ‘you’re too much, charles’, ‘you’re taking things too fast, we should take a break.’ so ever since the last girl he dated, once again, said the same thing, charles promised himself he would not be that guy.
“hey,” alex has this look of pity in his eyes that he doesn’t like, not even one bit. “maybe we could do something to help you.”
“i don’t need your help.” charles’ tone is too sharp and abrupt it’s makes him feel a little bad for talking to his friends like that. but just a little.
“look, you like her, right?” pierre chimes in, but doesn’t wait for an answer. “alex is his best friend, if you want a chance with her, he’s the only one who can help you right now.”
but why does he wanna help him?
alex must see the question written all over his face because he says, “she’s dated a few assholes in the past and i really want something good for her. i trust you, charles.” he tries to look serious which only makes charles laugh. “besides, i have the perfect idea.”
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ALEX’S iMESSAGE — MAY 18, 2023
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INSTAGRAM POST
📍 VENICE, ITALY — MAY 19, 2023
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Liked by scottyjames31, lance_stroll and 976,665 others
yourusername a few days ago i had the pleasure to celebrate two of my favorite people, Chloe and Scotty James. and spent two wonderful days filled with love and joy in the beautiful venice! so happy for you both. 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏼🩷
i wish i could stay here forever, but back to reality for now. :(
view all 7,455 comments
user55 i didn’t know she’s friends with the strolls
lance_stroll I have very embarrassing videos of you, just remember that 🍾
user56 why lance and Y/N look kinda good together
user57 That’s exactly what I was thinking. They would look pretty good as a couple user58 he has a girlfriend user59 and Y/N is probably dating charles user57 only rumors
user60 back to reality? she’s not gonna be in the paddock this weekend?
user61 why would she? nobody wants her there
user62 i thought she was in italy for the gp
user63 just a coincidence user62 still hoping she’ll be there
francisca.cgomes I’m gonna need to borrow that beautiful dress! ❤️
user63 she really knows everyone now user64 literally. she was just one time at a race and befriended everyone
user65 i feel like we’re missing something
Y/N’s iMESSAGE
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SATURDAY MAY 20, 2023 — THE MISSION 007 DINNER
the second you see a head of brown hair standing at the door, you want to walk over to where alex is sitting and smash his head on the table. you made sure before arriving to the restaurant that charles was not gonna be there tonight, even lando told you he was busy with some ferrari event. obviously, both lied to you.
“hey, charles!” george, who’s standing next to you, his girlfriend carmen at your other side, waves at him. and for the first time since that fateful dinner a few days ago, you make eye contact with his bright brown eyes.
butterflies break free inside your belly, even when you try to repress everything he makes you feel.
you’ve known charles for no more than ten days but it really feels like you’ve known each other your whole life. everything is so easy with him, you can’t remember when was the last time you felt this way, if it ever happened.
you thought everything was going well between you two and, for a minute, you let yourself believe he could like you. but then he gave you the cold shoulder and everything came crashing down.
and that’s your problem. you always feel so much in so little time that when things don’t go the way you’d like, everything hurts twice as hard.
there’s no one to blame but you.
“hey,” is it possible to like the sound of his voice so much that you feel your knees going weak?
“you’re the last one to arrive. here,” george shares a look with his girlfriend that you don’t really know how to read, and both move aside. “you’re sitting here tonight. we’ll go find our seats.”
you want the earth to swallow you. you want to be in a plane far away from here because the seat george is pointing at it’s right next to yours.
before you can open your mouth to say something, the couple slips away. and suddenly it feels like you and charles are the only ones in the room.
no one says a word for what feels like hours. you’re actually trying to find a excuse to leave when charles sighs, defeated.
“i’m sorry.” his voice is almost a whisper, something only for you to hear. “i acted like an idiot.”
“yeah,” you agree because you don’t know what else to say. he did act like an idiot, ignoring you for days, not answering your texts even when you asked him if something was wrong.
“i can explain if you’d let me.”
his brown eyes bore into yours, so soft and sincere your heart skips a beat. and even if you want to say no, your whole body begs you to accept.
“let’s eat first and enjoy the evening,” his face lights up like a kid on christmas day. “then i’ll let you buy me dessert and we can talk.”
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TWITTER — SUNDAY MAY 21, 2023
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TAGLIST (bold means i couldn’t tag you) — @leclerc16s. @willowpains. @berrnuu. @minkyungseokie. @sassyheroneckgiant. @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir. @nessacarty1. @a1leexxa. @storminacloud. @lovstappen.
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note: i hope you liked it. i’m sorry if i forgot to tag you! please let me know what you think, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. <3
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karinab00bs · 2 months
Text
Vacation
Karina x named reader
tags: smut, first crush, swearing, pool sex, rough sex, blow jobs, teasing, flirting, dirty talks, dirty jokes, dirty thoughts, hair-pulling, biting, begging
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Karina hadn’t anticipated the long journey to visit her parents, who lived quite a distance away from her current work and living situation. However, seizing the opportunity of a rare two-week break, she arrived at their doorstep, suitcase in hand, greeted by the warm sun above. The familiarity of her childhood home flooded back as she climbed out of the taxi.
Deciding against informing her parents of her arrival, Karina didn’t want to inconvenience them if her holiday plans fell through last minute.
Her father's joyful face upon opening the door made the trip instantly worth it, enveloping her in a bear hug and leading her inside.
"Why didn’t you tell us you were coming!?" he exclaimed happily, guiding her to the kitchen where her mother was busy cooking.
Their much-awaited reunion was interrupted by a knock at the door just as they settled down for dinner.
“I’ll get it,” her mother insisted, giving Karina a quick squeeze before heading to the door.
“So pumpkin,” her father started, looking a bit disappointed, unable to resist using the old nickname.
“Your mother and I had booked to go away tomorrow, for our anniversary. But if you want us to cancel, we will,” he offered, but Karina quickly stopped him, not wanting them to change their plans for her.
“Don’t you dare cancel that! We can celebrate when you guys get back. I do have two weeks off,” she reassured her dad, who visibly relaxed.
Before he could respond, her mother returned with a man Karina didn't recognize at first. Then it hit her, that is her childhood friend.
“Karina, honey, you remember Ethan,” her mother smiled, introducing Ethan as he stepped forward, all charm and green eyes.
Suppressing her smile, Karina shook his hand, noticing the size of his hands with a silent observation. “Ethan Lee, right?”
“Right,” he confirmed, maintaining his hold on her hand. She watched as his tongue swiped across his lips, unable to look away.
Finally releasing her hand, Ethan cleared his throat and turned his attention to her father. “I was just coming over to ask if you wouldn’t mind me doing the pool tomorrow, rather than next week,” he asked respectfully. As Karina’s mother handed him a drink, he thanked her before returning his gaze to her father.
“Of course. Is everything okay?” her father inquired, still engrossed in his meal as Karina resumed her seat, observing the exchange.
“Yes, sir. Just made some plans for Sammy’s birthday; he’s back in town for the next few months,” Ethan explained proudly, giving her a subtle wink as he caught her watching him.
“Yes, all fine with me, but we won’t be here so you’ll be dealing with Karina here,” her dad remarked with a roll of his eyes. Karina playfully slapped his arm when he chuckled, unable to suppress the nostalgic smile that crept onto her lips. His deep chuckle reminded her of her childhood.
“I’m sure I can handle her,” Ethan grinned directly at her, while her mother distracted her father.
“We’ll see, Lee,” Karina smirked, swiftly changing the subject to avoid losing her composure.
”So, how is Sam anyway?” Karina inquired, turning in her seat to look up at him where he stood.
“He’s good, not so little anymore. Got a fiance and he’s a lawyer,” Ethan informed her proudly as she stood by the kitchen counter, refilling her drink.
“Always thought the two of you would end up together,” Ethan revealed, completely confusing her.
Hearing her mother laugh, Karina's eyes widened. “Oh no, this one here had a thing for his b-” her mother stopped abruptly, noticing Karina's flushed face and the way she was looking at her.
Before her mother could say anything else that Karina would regret ever telling her, she led Ethan to the front door, he laughed, willingly following her. That is until they reached the door frame; he stopped, turning to look down at her.
“So best friend, or big brother?” he smirked, his green eyes practically sparkling. Karina thought to herself, cocky son of a bitch.
“See you tomorrow, pool boy.”
“Are you gonna come keep me company, while I do a favor for your parents?” he asked cheekily, throwing an arm above his head to lean against the door frame.
“I might,” Karina shrugged off her answer, wishing that he didn’t still have this insane effect on her after all of these years, but she tried not to let him get to her.
“Wait, you mean that’s not your only job?” Karina asked mockingly. Ethan smirked when she stepped closer, shaking his head at her.
“Nope,” he winked, popping the 'p'.
“My job, my real job, involves me getting a lot dirtier,” he revealed, licking his lips when he noticed her staring. She swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling the heat of his chest against hers.
“I’m a mechanic, sweetheart,” he added at her confused expression, and okay god, it got worse.
“R-Right, yeah. Makes sense,” she stuttered, and there were the nerves she remembered so well.
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow then, sugar.”
“Yeah, sure,” Karina replied quietly, watching him walk away. He headed over to the car parked in the drive, the one that used to be his dad's.
Closing the door, Karina turned to find her mother behind her, quickly noticing just how sheepish she looked.
“I’m so sorry, baby! I completely forgot!” her mother rushed to explain, and all Karina could do was laugh it off.
“Stop it! I swear, it’s all fine! A little embarrassing admittedly, but still, it’s okay,” she assured her, pulling her into a hug. Her mother quickly relaxed against her, wrapping her in her arms.
She pulled back with a watery smile.
“I’m so glad you’re back, baby, we really missed you,” smiling, she cupped Karina's cheeks, like she was trying to memorize her face.
“I know, mom, let’s go eat.”
The night passed quickly, talk of the old days and how Karina was considering coming back home. Before she knew it, she was waving them away, watching the taxi disappear.
She looked at the time, swearing under her breath. Her dad had told her Ethan would be over in the next hour, and she really wanted a bath before he got here.
Taking a longer bath than she meant to, Karina left herself only ten minutes to slip into her new red bikini and shorts.
It was so hot outside, and she was determined to drive him crazy. He wanted to be all sexy; two could play at that game. She’d put up with it enough when she was younger, having a somewhat filthy crush on her best friend’s big brother was definitely not ideal.
She just about heard the knock at the door, which was quickly followed by the unmistakable noise of the doorbell. Heading downstairs after a quick glance in the mirror, taking a deep breath, she opened the door.
“Mornin’ Karina,” he winked, giving her an appreciative once over before walking past her into the house.
Closing the door behind him, Karina frowned.
“Really, Ethan, jeans? You are cleaning the pool, right? So why not wear shorts?” she questioned as she followed him into the back garden.
“I don’t do shorts, sweetheart. Why? Do you wanna see some more skin or somethin’?” he asked suggestively, unlocking the shed to get the things he needed. She didn’t see his face, but she was sure he was smirking to himself.
She scoffed at him, moving aside as he began pulling things out of the shed.
“No. I just wondered, it’s so damn hot today. Seems kinda odd weather for that,” she stated, nodding at his attire, brushing it off as easily as she could.
“Well, something is definitely hot” he grins, eyeing her shamelessly as he pulls off his shirt, hanging it on the back of the chair. “There, better?” he asks knowingly, a smug look on his face when Karina choke back a moan, almost swallowing her own tongue.
He doesn’t wait for an answer as he locks the shed door, leaving her to stare at his back.
The sunlight bounces off his tanned skin as he walks over to the pool with the equipment, and Karina realise that she never seen someone with so many muscles in their back. She can just imagine dragging your nails down it as he–
Karina manage to stop that train of thought before it gets out of hand. But she can’t stop herself from watching the very slight swing of his hips, how those jeans fit so snugly against his toned ass and legs, sitting perfectly on his hips.
All she can do is watch him walk away. Safe to say he gives as good as he gets.
Slightly bewildered, Karina follow him after a moment longer of staring, taking her seat on the sun lounger by the pool. She watch him work closely, seeing those muscles visibly rolling under his skin. He seems to be biting on his tongue as he concentrates on the job at hand. Something particularly stubborn makes his jaw tense.
Karina slip out of your shorts easily, letting them fall to the floor, she lay back, deciding to at least try and relax while Ethan works.
It wasn’t like she could stare at him all day, right?
A little while passes, the sun beating down on her is much needed. However, Karina’s sunbathing is interrupted by a large shadow, which completely blankets her body. Shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand you open them, quickly meeting Ethan’s.
“You should probably put this on sweetheart.” He instructs firmly, holding out the sun cream to her.
Karina can’t help but notice the sweat that coats his skin, glistening in the sun, she pause reaching for the bottle with an idea in mind.
“Is that an offer, Lee?” Karina question sweetly as possible, crossing her legs at the knees as she run her fingers from the top of her thigh to her knee, acutely aware of the way his eyes are taking in her body.
He shrugs with a smug look on his face, “Sure, we can’t have you burning can we,”
Karina hum in approval rolling onto her front, she rest her head on her folded arms. Turning her head to watch as Ethan's kneels beside you.
“Such a gentleman.” Karina reply sarcastically, smiling against her arm when he chuckles.
The second his cream covered warm hands touch her skin goosebumps cover her body, she bite back a moan, a little unsuccessfully when his thumbs press into the muscles of her shoulders and around her shoulder blades. Pushing under the strap of Karina’s bikini top, where he’s so close to brushing the sides of her breasts.
Ethan's hands are so big, as they rub the cream into Karina’s skin it doesn’t take him long to reach the bottom of her spine.
Karina arch back into his touch even more, when his thumbs push just under the top of her swimming bottoms, fingers curling around the front of her hips, digging in but not quite the same way. After a few minutes he continues down her body, his touch remaining firm as he quickly does just under Karina’s ass cheeks. Spreading her legs a little as his hands move down her thighs, the perfect amount of pressure against every muscle.
Karina knows that she’s wet, this is without doubt the best massage she’s ever had and very unexpected, god she hope he can’t see it.
“Fuck.” Karina hear him grit out quietly, as his hands move down her calves.
Gently he taps Karina's ankle and clears his throat.
“Turn over, I’ll do the front.” Ethan rasps out, voice breaking a little with each word.
Swallowing hard, Karina as nervous as hell, but there is no way she's backing out now. He’d started this, she's weren’t about to stop him if he wanted to finish it.
Closing her eyes she turn onto her back, shielding her eyes with her arm.
Ethan starts on Karina's legs, the higher his hands get, the more her muscles tense and her pussy starts to flutter. His hands run along the line of her swimming pants, right in the crease of her groin.
The moan that slips past Karina's lips couldn’t have been stopped if she'd tried, she feel the wood creak beneath her as Ethan climbs between her legs on the sun lounger. His calloused hands rubbing cream into Karina’s stomach, fingertips slipping beneath the cups of her bikini top, running along the underside of her breasts.
Ethan leans over her further, and Karina feel his hard cock brush against her thigh as he takes her arms, rubbing the cream in. Karina finally dare to blink open her eyes, the wild beating of her heart and the blood rushing in her ears are unbearable.
Biting into her lip when her eyes meet his again, Karina watch him squirt more cream onto his palms, before placing the bottle on the table.
Ethan's hands move over Karina's chest slowly, pushing the straps down her shoulders, she tilt her head back when he rubs the cream into her neck, his hand resting on her throat as he leans in closer.
“Ain’t even been swimmin’ yet and your panties are soaked.” Ethan groans, moving in closer still, but she stop him before he gets too close, resting her hand on his bare chest.
Pushing him back gently, watching the way he sits back on his feet, eyes completely focused on her as she sit up. Karina slip out from beneath him, smiling at the look on his face.
“Better make sure you’ve done your job properly.” Karina smile seductively, loving the way he watches her as she make her way over to the pool.
When Karina reach the steps she turn to find him standing from the sun lounger. Clearing his throat he rearranges himself in his jeans, but the thick line of his cock is still clearly visible, he quickly focuses those green eyes back on her.
“You coming, pool boy?” Karina ask cheekily, as she lower yourself into the cool water, watching the smirk that appears on his plump lips.
“You remember that I’m older than you, right? More like the pool man,” Ethan quips, undoing his belt and leather slaps against leather. Leaning against the pool’s edge as Karina's chin resting on her arms and she look up at him.
Just in time to watch him pop the button of his jeans and pull down the zipper.
“Guess you’ve got me there. So, since you don’t like shorts, are you wearing boxers?” Karina ask curiously, trying but failing to hide her smile.
Ethan laughs at that, dropping his jeans and pulling them off his legs, “Normally you would’ve been right, but on this occasion” he leaves the reply hanging in the air. Letting Karina's eyes drop with his jeans, she couldn’t even be disappointed that he was still wearing boxers. Not since the sizeable bulge was still very much present and accounted for, even more visible in the thin fabric.
Sitting down on the side of the pool Ethan's legs dangle in the water, his ass right on the very edge. Karina swimming over to him and stand between his open legs. Looking up at his face as she rest her hands on his thick thighs.
“So what’s the verdict sweetheart, did I do a good enough job?” Ethan questions leaning back on his hands, grunting in surprise when Karina’s breasts brush against the bulge in Ethan pants.
“Not too bad, for a part timer.” Karina giggle watching the comical eye roll he gives her. The image of him in overalls and covered in grease hits her. Karina almost certain he would look even better dirty than he does clean, which is saying something.
“I wouldn’t mind seeing just how good you are at your real job though, see how dirty you get.” Karina reveal, chewing on her bottom lip as her hands slip into the legs of Ethan boxers. Ethan hisses at the sting of the pain, when her nails sink into the tops of his thighs, his rock hard length laying untouched between them.
“You should come down the garage some time, I’ll show you just how dirty I get” Ethan grunts through gritted teeth.
Licking her lips, Karina hum appreciatively, “I’d really like that.” She admit, dragging her nails back down Ethan's thighs, feeling his muscles tense beneath her touch. Leaning up against the pool’s side on her elbows, Karina tuck her fingers into the sides of his boxer shorts.
Ethan seems to be nervous as he looks around the garden, like he’s expecting someone to pop out.
“Everything okay, Ethan? You look nervous.” Karina acknowledge cheekily, as he debates lifting his ass for literally a second, seeming to ignore any doubts he has he finally lets her tug the boxers down, over his ass and down those strong bow legs.
Karina watch Ethan's Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he glances around one more time. Then he focuses back on her, as her small hand wraps around his cock. That perfect green of his eyes has almost completely been swallowed by the black of his pupils when his eyes meet hers again.
Ethan shifts where he sits, trying to wiggle closer to Karina when she start to move her hand up and down his thick length. Karina other hand rests on his strong thigh, helping her keep her balance. Karina lean forward, licking her lips, hearing Ethan swear under his breath when her lips wrap around the swollen head of his cock. Running her tongue over his slit, moaning when the taste of his pre-come hits her tongue for the first time.
“Fuck, sweetheart that’s it,” Ethan groans, tossing his head back, hand fisting in Karina's hair as she take him further into her mouth, Karina's tongue pressing to the underside of his cock.
Karina love the way his hand tightens in her hair, short nails that dig into her scalp.
Karina's hands are now resting on both his thighs, as his cock bumps against the back of her throat. Ethan thrusts his hips, letting himself go a little, she watch him, almost positive there has never been a sexier sight in the world. The speed in which he snaps his hips causes her to gag a little. But even after his surprised gasp, Karina continue when his hips stop moving, letting her take the control back.
Karina continue to take him as deep as she can, saliva leaking from the corners of her lips. Nails sinking into his thighs when she swallow around his cock. Then it slips into her throat briefly and Ethan can’t stop the choked out whine that slips past his perfect lips at her actions.
Ethan's tugging on Karina's hair becomes more insistent, she finally relent, gasping for air when his cock is popped from between her lips, smacking back against his stomach.
Karina's pussy is still throbbing almost painfully, she look up at him and lick her lips, with her most seductive smile she step back, further into the pool, beckoning him towards her with a single finger.
Taking a moment to catch his breath he watches her, reminding her somewhat of a tiger ready to pounce on their meal.
Then all the air gets stuck in Karina's throat and she have to fight not to choke on it, when Ethan slips into the pool, skin still slick with sweat and he looks like a male model. He’s fucking stunning, slipping beneath the water briefly, he reemerges, running a hand through his now dripping wet hair as he walks towards her slowly, Karina suddenly not sure if she even remember how to speak.
The confidence from before is slipping and she sure that he can see it, which is made clearer when the corner of his mouth curves into a half smirk. Clearly someone catching the two of them was the last thing he was worried about now.
Crowding Karina back against the pool’s edge, Ethan presses himself close to her, resting a hand on the edge behind her, while his other hand tucks some wayward hair behind her ear.
Leaning in closer his nose nudges hers, hot breath fanning across Karina's lips, and she finally manage to swallow the lump in her throat.
“How’re you still so nervous about kissing me, sweetheart? With what this perfect little mouth just did, felt fuckin’ incredible wrapped around my cock”
Ethan pauses to let his thumb brush over Karina's parted lips, she lick her lips as his hand moves down slowly and he captures her chin. “I still remember that time at that end of year house party, the one which you and Sammy snuck into” he smirks, causing her to suck in a breath when his free hand grips her ass roughly, pulling her closer to him.
Karina blushed like crazy at the mention of that night, “You were drunk off your ass Ethan, I didn’t b-” Karina cut off by Ethan plump lips pressing against hers in a demanding kiss, his big hand cups her neck, thumb pressing into her jaw as he angles her head right were he wants it.
It takes her mind a moment to catch up with her body but she finally breathe, relaxing into the kiss. Ethan's free hand moves behind Karina's back, tugging the ties of her bikini top until it falls loose and Ethan tosses it away. Moving those big warm hands down Karina's body Ethan cups her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples with his rough fingers and thumbs.
Karina's lips part at the same time as Ethan's, her tongues effortlessly moving together. As Ethan pulls back she capture his bottom lip between her teeth, delighting in the groan that bubbles up in his throat. He doesn’t stop there, kissing and nipping his way down her neck, sucking marks into her soft skin.
“You believe me now?” He all but growls against her ear, she nod quickly, tugging at the strings of her bikini bottoms, pulling them loose.
Ethan pulls away from Karina's neck, finally meeting her eyes again, his wet hair spiked up in all sorts of directions from the pair of her carding her hands through it. Water still clings to his eyelashes, dropping from the tip of his nose, water droplets rolling down his chest distracting her a little.
“Yes Ethan, I believe you.” Karina answer obediently, taking his hand and positioning it between her own thighs.
Ethan looks down the very small gap remaining between the two of them, sliding two fingers between Karina's folds, she grab at his shoulders when those fingers push inside her. Karina's walls stretch around his fingers, one of her hands falls from his shoulder, dropping beneath the water she wrap her small fingers around his thick cock.
Karina's forehead drops against his, panting breaths begin to mix together. Hitching a leg over his hip Karina rock against his fingers, feeling his cock pressing into her thigh.
“You want my cock in your pretty pussy baby? You wanna fuck the pool guy, like a dirty little girl?”
“Jesus Ethan,” Karina moan as his filthy words wash over her. No guy had ever spoken to Karina like this before and there was no denying that she were loving it, but she don’t have a clue about how to respond to him. “Not so worried about the neighbours seeing us now then?” Karina question breathlessly, as Ethan carefully pulls his fingers out with a final tap against her clit.
“Fuck it, let ‘em watch.” Ethan grits out when Karina release his cock. Karina running her hands up his chest then grip his broad shoulders, using them to balance when he roughly grabs her ass and squeezes, she jump a little, hooking her other leg over his free hip.
As Karina rocking her hips, Ethan’s thick cock easily slides against her slick pussy, nudging between her folds he repeatedly taps against her clit, she can’t help but whimper, clinging to his broad shoulders.
Pausing for a moment Ethan lifts Karina higher, “You ready sweetheart. C’mon talk to me? You want my cock baby?” Ethan questions huskily smirking when Karina bite her lip, his thighs shaking trying to resist the urge to just snap his hips forward.
Karina moan pushing her ass harder into his hands, hoping that he’ll give her what she need. Ethan lines up with her entrance, so that the head of his cock nudges teasingly against her opening and she meet his darkened green eyes.
“C’mon pool boy, show me what you’ve got.”
A long drawn out moan leaves Karina lips when Ethan finally breaks, slowly lowering her onto his hard cock. Clenching his jaw, veins becoming more visible in his neck as he enters her slowly inch by tortuous inch.
“So fuckin’ tight.” Ethn groans dropping his head forward, so that he can suck and bite marks into Karina's neck. Karina cling to him, curses and whimpered plea’s leaving her lips.
Tugging on Ethan’s hair harshly Karina force him to look up at her.
“Fuck! I need it Ethan, please!” Karina begging but she don’t care, because the words are barely out of her mouth before Ethan gives her what she need, snapping his hips forward, filling her in one blissfully hard thrust.
Ethan's fingers are digging into Karina's ass when he starts thrusting, the movements slow and rough but precise, hitting her g-spot on every movement. Karina's feet dig into his ass, water splashing around them with every powerful movement.
“You feel so good baby, shit.” Ethan pants breathlessly, pulling his head away from Karina's neck and his gorgeous green eyes lock onto hers. Karina pushing her hands into the back of his hair as she kiss him, tongue meeting his and messy uncontrolled kiss, angling her hips just right she start to rise and fall on his cock.
Breaking apart only when she feel her pussy beginning to clamp down around his thick length.
“Ethan.. please I’m g-gonna come..” Karina gasp out as she begin to lose her rhythm.
“Fuck, C’mon baby give it to me. Come all over my fucking cock!” Ethan practically snarls low in his chest.
Karina hooking legs over his arms a squeak of surprise leaving her lips when Ethan starts fucking up into her more faster. He’s so deep, it’s like a fire is building in her stomach.
Karina cling to him, his rough movements cause the water to create waves around her. Ethan feels so fucking good that Karina barely notice, she drop her face into the crook of his neck, hot breath fanning against his skin. Sucking and biting marks everywhere she can reach, then out of nowhere Karina orgasm hits her full force, causing her eyes to roll almost painfully, she have to sink her teeth into his shoulder to stop herself from screaming his name.
Ethan hisses as the pain throbs against his skin, carefully he lowers her legs letting her feet touch the floor again. Feeling a little dazed, Karina run her fingers along the bite mark on Ethan's skin, she can’t help but wince a little.
“I’m sorry pool boy, got you all marked up.” Karina giggle lightly, biting into her bottom lip when those eyes turn on her again.
A growl bubbles up in Ethan's throat, he spins her in his hold; roughly pressing Karina into the side of the pool, his chest pressed tightly against her back. Karina spread her legs as his lips press against her ear.
“Oh you wanna see marked up sweetheart, I’ll show you.” Ethan snaps harshly, causing Karina skin to practically buzz as he drags his teeth over her earlobe, those big hands spread her ass cheeks and his cock nudges at her slick entrance again.
“I’ll give you fuckin’ pool boy.” Ethan grunts as he pushes inside Karina in one thrust and bottoms out, muffling her screaming moan with his hand.
Karina fall over the side of the pool with a whimper when Ethan releases her mouth, grip tight and unyielding on her hips. His thrusts are nothing like they’d been before and she can’t get enough, the water sloshes over the edge of the pool as Ethan’s hips bounce off her ass with every brutal thrust he delivers.
“You’re so deep.. Fuck! Feels so good Ethan,” Karina cry out loudly, completely giving up on keeping her voice down, Karina push her ass back meeting his thrusts the best that she can.
“Shit, Karina! I’m gonna come.” Ethan grits out as his hips begin to stutter. His big hands move further over the curves of Karina body, wrapping those talented fingers around her ribs, and she sure that bruises will form there the same way they were beginning to on her hips.
Ethan shifts so that his knees are resting on the ledge between Karina legs, leaning over her so his body is almost draped on top of hers.
“Give it to me Ethan! Please, I need it! Don’t stop.” The words leave Karina lips without her really thinking, nobody has ever had her this wound up and ready to snap, not this fast and definitely not for a second time.
Pushing a hand between her legs Ethan rubs rough circles around Karina clit, forcing her orgasm forward, It’s practically bubbling in the pit of her stomach. Squeezing her eyes shut Karina feel her thighs start to shake. Ethan stills behind her, a broken moan leaving his plump lips when he finally comes, her pussy clamps down on his cock as he spills inside her.
His fingers and hips keep moving, his hands feel like they’re everywhere. Karina can’t take it anymore, she gasp his name and with a final rough thrust of his hips pushing her into the side of the pool, she fall apart around him all over again.
Karina shivering as her body collapses against the cold stone in front of her, Ethan's sweaty forehead drops to the bottom of her back, his soft lips pressing kisses into her skin waiting for her to come down.
Karina breathing finally slows down and Ethan helps you down, back into the water, he turns Karina in his arms. “Fuck that was the sexiest thing that’s ever happened.” Ethan grins happily, pulling her body against his as he kisses her, she melt against his lips.
Smiling when she pull away, she push the wet hair from his forehead.
“Think we’ll be remembering this for a few weeks.” Karina giggle, running her fingers gently over the marks on his skin, as his fingers skim across the bruises he’d left behind on her body.
Biting his lip his eyes move across Karina body, still standing so close to his own.
“Oh yeah sweetheart, I’d say so.”
“Trouble is Mr pool man, you’ve definitely got more work to do.”
Ethan rolls his eyes, but she can see the smile that’s curling at the corners of his lips, when he dangles her bikini bottoms from his finger, right in front of her face.
“Oh you ain’t gettin’ out of this one young lady.”
Karina squeal as he tosses the bottoms aside and throws her backwards, she land in the water with a splash. Karina re-emerge from the water, gasping for breath and glare right at Ethan.
“Oh you’re so fucking dead, Lee!”
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astraystayyh · 18 days
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chan x reader. hurt and lots of comfort. description of an anxiety attack and its aftermath (based on my own experiences).
please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you
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If you remain still long enough, breathe as quietly as you can muster, would the world forget you exist and pass your anxiety along to somebody else?
A selfish question, perhaps, but one that you can’t help but ask as you sit on your freezing bathroom floor, knees tightly hugged to your chest.
You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve sat in this position. Time suddenly seemed elusive to you, as if a concept too hard for your frantic heart to grasp. All you knew was the ache of your limbs and the feeling that doom was just around the corner.
It was one of those days where you woke up feeling anxious. As if your brain had made up its mind about you in your sleep, deciding to hold you hostage to your anxiety. The bed was cold, your boyfriend Chan long gone to his studio, his lingering cologne the only indication he was ever there. So, you tried to distract yourself throughout the day— going on a walk, listening to music, cleaning your house, but it didn't help. Nothing seemed to help you.
So here you were, hours later, sat on your bathroom floor, trying to calm yourself down, all alone. But you could tell that it wasn't working, that you were on a losing race against your own body. Soon, you wouldn't be able to control your anxiety, soon it would turn into a full blown attack.
You wanted to call Chan, you truly did, but he was busy, and you refused to be a burden. Especially since he told you through texts that he'd be home late, so that definitely meant that he was making a new track in his studio.
So, you settled on rocking yourself back and forth, your hands slowly moving up to your shoulders, patting yourself down. This is what you used to do before knowing Chan. When you didn't have anyone around you who understood. You’d trick your bruised mind into believing you were hugged, the warmth of your own touch easing your anxiety a little.
But tonight it had the opposite effect. Tonight, you broke down in sobs, your breathing more irregular than ever. You curled into a ball on the floor, your hand moving to your chest in a futile attempt to slow down your heart. You could no longer breathe, the air in your lungs morphing into unkind fingers, choking you from within. White dots started dancing in front of your eyes, as your entire being shook like a lone leaf, left to fend for itself before the unyielding winds.
It suddenly got too much— the sobs, the pain, the ache. You couldn't bare it anymore. So with trembling hands, you unlocked your phone, calling the only person who would be able to calm you down. Chan. You put the phone on speaker, before tossing it on the ground next to you. You couldn't even muster the energy to hold it to your ear.
“Hi my love, I'm a bit busy right now can I call you later?” Chan's rushed words ring through the bathroom, your anxiety intensifying before the possible antidote. “Honey?” he asks again when he doesn’t hear your reply.
“Chan—“ you sob, the only word your weighted tongue allows you to speak of.
“I’m here, I'm here baby. I'm coming right now,” his panicked voice rings through your ears, following the frantic rush of your boiling blood. The sound of shuffling indicates that he’s getting up and leaving the studio, the confused ‘what’s going on?’ Han shouts confirms it.
The only reply you give him is your sobs, and his heart constricts, twists and turns at the sound of your cries. “Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s okay, you’re okay. Breathe for me, okay? Take a deep breath with me, please—” his voice breaks, “please baby.”
You try, with all your will, to force a steady breath to rise from your stomach to the tip of your tongue. It escapes faintly, but Chan catches it. “You’re doing well, baby. Fuck—” he turns on his car’s engine. “Um… Minho bit my ass today.”
His words catch you off guard, the gears in your mind stopping for a split second. You remember a faint conversation under your covers, months ago, when you told him that distractions help you when you’re anxious. Force you to redirect your thinking somewhere else.
He remembered.
“Was it tasty?” you breathe out, and he chuckles, a sweet sound intermingled with a sigh of relief. “I don’t know, I need to ask him baby.”
You nod though he can’t see you, willing yourself to breathe again. In, out, in, out, Chan’s own breathing guiding you. “Should I bite him in return?” he asks. Tears pool in your eyes once again. “I’m close, so close,” he reassures.
“Okay.”
“To the biting?”
“Mm,” you manage to hum, as you hear the door of your apartment open, Chan's hurried steps echoing in your home. You knew he was looking for you but you couldn't call out to him. After painfully long seconds, stretching out as if to torture you even more, he finally opens the bathroom floor.
He finally finds you.
“It's okay, I'm here. I'm here,” he wastes no time before scooping you into his arms and hugging you. He knows that the pressure eases your anxiety so he tightens his hold without you having to say so, pulling you as close as two pages of the same book.
With you on his lap, he starts rocking back and forth, his words coming out a jumble mess. He can’t settle on what to say to you, switching between stupid jokes his friends told him, and words of reassurance he repeats like a promise.
His words break, his tongue faltering each time your sob gets louder, but he speaks. He speaks and speaks for twenty minutes, all to distract you, all to keep you grounded, and safe.
After a long while, the storm finally passes, leaving behind an excruciating exhaustion. You turn into a puddle in his hold, softening like malleable clay. He holds you as gently as a porcelain vase.
His warm palms settle atop your cheeks, his eyes gazing into yours for the first time since he got here. A sheen glaze taints them, one you know is mirrored in your own. His thumbs gently swipe away your remaining tears, grazing your face with a tenderness that makes your being ache. Your lips press a faint kiss onto his palm, his find their way to your forehead, and you feel it all, through his kiss. His fear, his relief, his love, soft and gentle, for you.
“Thank you,” you whisper, voice slightly hoarse as you kiss his forehead back.
“I’ve got you my love. Always,” he smiles at you softly, his dimples appearing like the sun after a cold day.
“Did Minho really bite you?” you giggle faintly, and he scratches his ear sheepishly. “No, but I don’t put it past him to do it.”
“Is that something you’re into?” You cock a teasing eyebrow at him, and he shakes his head, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. “Only if it’s you,” he says as he wraps his arm around your waist, picking you up swiftly.
“I’ll consider,” you yawn, wrapping your arms around his neck, your face finding a refuge in the crook of his neck.
“Why thank you,” he smiles as he leads you to your bedroom, settling you gently atop the bed. He quickly climbs in with you, bringing you so close to him, his warmth ends up spreading through your entire being, filling up every nook and cranny of your soul.
“I think as long as you’re near, I’ll always be okay,” you say, as your eyes close slowly, you miss the tender smile that blooms in his face at your words.
“Good thing I exist to be near you, then.”
please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you
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