#i still had to miss off some great moments | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

barcaatthemoon · 3 hours

Text

end of an era || jenni hermoso x reader ||

things don't always get better, but jenni tries to help you.

major angst warning, like implied/mentioned suicide attempt angst. proceed with caution.

everything and everyone went silent the moment you fell. it was daunting to watch back as you replayed the stream of your last game over and over again. jenni sighed as she glanced over at you. the two of you had been waiting in the doctor's office for hours now to see how your surgery had gone. both of you knew that it was going to be a long and hard road back, one that you honestly weren't even sure you'd have the chance to attempt.

"will you turn it off please?" jenni asked you. she was beyond trying to be nice about it. you got upset every single time that you watched it, and jenni hated hearing you get hit and go down again and again. she hadn't been there for that game, and it was one of her greatest regrets.

your teammates had told jenni how you had been immediately following the game. jenni almost couldn't believe it, not until she saw for herself that every ounce of happiness had been sucked out of you. you had become obsessive, attempting to figure out where you could have done something to reduce the damage. rather than listen to the countless people who had assured you time and time again that it was a freak accident, you still searched for an answer.

"it's not like i have anything else to do," you grumbled. jenni was really starting to get on your nerves. she was always a little annoying, but it had gone from being endearing to infuriating. "they're just going to tell me that i'm finished. my career is over, even if i can make a comeback. it will be too fucking late, jenni."

"no. no, stop talking like that. you're gonna be fine," jenni told you. oh how you wished that the doctors hadn't made her out to be a liar. jenni believed her words right up until the surgeon came in with a team of people that neither of you had ever seen before.

you felt numb as they gave the time frame of your possible return. it would be well over a year since you required multiple surgeries to fix the tears and breaks. you didn't understand how you had fucked up your body so badly, and it was obvious that jenni didn't either. however, you weren't left wondering for very long. the doctor mentioned old injuries that hadn't healed properly, claiming that your leg was a ticking time bomb that had been resting for nearly a decade.

"that was a waste of fucking time," you grumbled as you rushed towards the car. you were on crutches, so you weren't really moving that fast. jenni had slowed her pace down signficantly to keep up with you. she was carrying your bags, something that you only let her do today because she normally did it for you anyway.

"no, we have a timeline now. that's a good first step towards getting you back to where you need to be." jenni sounded so optimistic still, but you knew that it didn't matter. you'd miss the olympics, and you'd definitely have to retire by the next world cup. your time was running out, and it had essentially been cut in half by your injury.

"jenni, i'll be lucky if i ever get to step foot on a pitch again. let's just get home. i need a fucking drink." you got into the car, ignoring the look that jenni gave you. she was worried about you, despite you technically not doing anything worrisome yet.

you were depressed, and rightfully so. jenni had hoped that the doctors would have some good news for you, but they hadn't. your mood reflected that in the coming weeks as you moped around until you were cleared to start your physical therapy and rehab. your schedule for that was pretty light, especially since you had at least two more surgeries before you were in the clear.

jenni was great, and despite it being her off season, she didn't go back to spain. instead, she had moved temporarily to america to take care of you. you could tell that the move was hard on her, but she couldn't think of letting you stay by yourself. she was afraid that you'd do something stupid or dangerous if she left you alone.

you hated it, and because of that, you started to hate her as well. you hated that jenni kept looking at you like you were made of glass. you hated that she touched you so gently whenever all you wanted was for her to hold you down against the mattress and make you forget the past four months of your life. you hated jenni, and even more so, you hated that she never showed any resentment towards you.

there was always only ever going to be so much that jenni could handle. ten months out of your injury with only one more surgery to go, it all came crashing down around the two of you. the cracks in jenni's patience with you were starting to show, so she had taken a little vacation to spain without you. it wasn't for more than a few days, but it was long enough for your anger to betray you and turn into complete despair.

you had a family history of being fucked up. addiction, depression, anxiety, and a long list of other issues had plagued nearly every other member of your family for as long as you could remember. your parents had both tried to prepare you for the worst of it, and for a time, you thought that you had seen it. you had forgone taking your pain medicine because you had been terrified fo getting hooked on it. there never should have been so many pills in the house, but jenni knew she couldn't have just taken your extra ones with her to spain.

you wanted to call jenni, but she'd talk you down. you didn't feel like you deserved it. you had treated her so badly for nearly a year, to the point where she left the continent to get away from you. however, you believed that you owed her at least a text. something to thank her for taking care of you and apologize for being such a piece of shit for so long.

the time zone different meant that jenni should have been fast asleep. you didn't count on jenni being wide awake at 2 am. how could you have known that she hadn't been sleeping well since you got hurt. the vacation to spain should have been relaxing, but jenni couldn't quiet the voice in the back of her head warning her that you still weren't doing any better mentally. that was why she hadn't even finished reading your text before she was calling some of your american teammates to check up on you, hopeful that it wasn't too late.

…

"i'm here! i'm here!" jenni was nearly tripping over herself as she ran into your hospital room. she stopped when she saw you. you had expected her to start yelling at you or something, but instead she just broke down in front of you.

"i'm sorry," you apologized. jenni tried to tell you not to be sorry, but she couldn't get it out. all she could do is kneel by your bed and cry as your hand weakly ran through your hair. "it should have worked."

"i-is that how you really feel?" jenni asked you. you realized that wasn't at all what she wanted to hear, and suddenly you were filled with guilt. all of that hate and anger that you had felt before came back, but this time it was fully directed towards yourself.

"yes," you whispered. jenni wiped her eyes and stood up as she stared down at you. "i've been awful to you. how can you still love me?"

"are you fucking stupid?" jenni regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth. for the first time in months, jenni finally saw you cry. "shit. shit, shit, shit, c'mere. i'm sorry, i didn't mean it like that. i love you, i want to see you get better."

"jenni, i'm not sure that there is a better. what if i come back and this happens all over again? i think that i need to retire and take some time by myself," you told her.

"a-are you breaking up with me?" jenni asked you. there was a flash of anger in her eyes, one that completely overshadowed the hurt. "i took care of you for almost a year. i waited for you to get better, to be yourself again because i love you so much. you can't just make a decision like this by yourself, not when you aren't in the right headspace."

"jenni, they're keeping me here on a hold for a while until i can prove that i'm okay. i'm selling my place here. i don't want us to be over, but i think that if you can find someone who actually deserves you while i'm gone, then you should go for it. and if you don't by the time that i'm better, then i'd really like you to consider letting me come back to you," you told her. jenni didn't like the sound of that, but it wasn't a clear breakup. it was a break, if anything, and jenni knew for a fact that she wouldn't find someone else unless you actually forced her to. "i've already been let out of my contracts, they're just waiting to make the announcements."

"i wish that you'd reconsider this, but i am glad that you can make rational decisions," jenni said. you nodded as you gave her hand a little squeeze. there was a chair by your bed, but jenni crawled right in next to you. she had a couple days to stay with you before you were moved to the facility that you'd call home for as long as it took you to get better. jenni didn't know when you'd be back, but she kept a calendar to keep count of the days you were gone.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #jenni hermoso imagine #jenni hermoso x reader #heavy angst

95 notes · View notes

cozzzynook · 3 days

Note

got any blitzbee for blitzbee week? or any ship with bee :]

So i’m a day late but the subject for day one being forbidden had art that inspired me so much.

I loved it.

Bee sneaking Blitzwing out who was kept in the lowest parts of autobot territory after being tortured.

He was physically tortured and it shows with how much energon he’s leaking and how much of his frame is missing. There’s a small pool of energon on the floor, his insignia has been ripped off. His wings were damaged but he could still fly. They badly damaged the treads of his tank alt mode and Bee winces at how heavy the chains are around his secret conjunxs neck cables and servos and pedes are.

They have to keep someone like Blitzwing in stasis cuffs and so the chains act as a numbing agent and keep him immobile. Bee sees all this even if his team tried to keep him from seeing it because they believed he was traumatized during his capture and thats why he won’t speak.

It wasn’t that though.

He and Blitzwing had known each other for millions of stellar cycles. Their courting was long, shy and done before the war actually broke out.

Bee was far older than they thought he was. Yeah he was still a young bot but he was emerged before the great wars really kicked off about a hundred years approximately. He’s only ever known war and it was during the war he met Blitzwing.

He was a young mech that got caught in a blast running to safety. He was relatively fine but the young seeker next to him was not.

Bee doesn’t know how he did it but he managed to bring the large lanky seeker into a destroyed shelter and patching him up the best he could.

Of course he recognized the decepticon insignia after helping him but at that time Bee knew the decepticons were right in fighting for freedom. This was before things became twisted and when Megatron wasn’t a warlord.

It was a couple days later before Blitzwing onlined. The mech was in a daze and couldn’t hold his own helm up. Bee managed to find some energon that wasn’t enough to quench even his thirst but he gave it to the large mech who greedily drank it before rushing to sit up with a wince.

Of course Bee was on guard and scurried back. He wasn’t stupid, a bleeding spark yes but not stupid, he knew he couldn’t take on any bot fighting in the war let alone a con as tall as this one.

But the con didn’t seem at all willing to hurt him in fact the con looked at him like he hung the stars covered by smog and smoke.

Bee can admit he was love struck looking into those optics the first time he truly saw them.

Its why he took the lanky mechs servo in his own and never looked back as he was led to a tent on an old and tribal looking base camp where many cons and those looking for change and safety wandered.

They initially were strangers who felt their spark soar every moment they were near another. Bee knew the mech when his designation was Frostwing.

Sharing soft touches, making sure their tent was clean and warm by the time the mech came back. Making energon for them and others who were injured, helping patch wounds under medics guided servos so he could be of use and not feel like a rusted bag of spare parts.

Before autobots became too underhanded bots were still emerging sparklings and even having them. He would help take care of them and help around the tents so the carriers wouldn’t have to clean and could rest.

He remembers the early days of being with the decepticons off battlefield. They were damaged, broken and hurt. But warm, kind and caring in ways he didn’t associate with autobots.

Frostwing as well.

Especially Frostwing.

Bots wouldn’t believe him if he said the mech who became a triple changer and cannibal once brought him sweet energon every week in the roughest of war zones because he believed he was worth it. This same mech who made sure he was cuddled close to his chassis, rubbing his helm to lull him into recharge with the help of his spark was the same mech who later was injured so badly in the middle of the war they used the triple changer project to bring him back.

Changing him painfully without consent with manipulation and no care for his well being.

Bee knew better than to say something. He didn’t want to risk either of them being offlined. Its was then he knew the decepticons had changed but it was too late.

Frostwing was now a valuable weapon and Bee was far too indebted to them to leave. Not to mention he was the sparkbond and conjunx of Frostwing now named Blitzwing.

His love was given two additional face plates and a fractured processor and frame that left him aching and in pain for what felt like stellar cycles.

Bee stayed up every night with him keeping his frame from over heating and administering pain lines to ease his torment.

He was afraid his love had changed drastically and wouldn’t love him anymore. Wouldn’t be able to live in a frame with a mind so altered and so suddenly after a near death experience.

Bee knew the moment he saw his beloved changed he would stay by his side no matter what. He just feared Blitzwing would not want him.

But his fears were for nothing.

His love, his spark and beautiful conjunx still took one look at him and reached out his servo to wipe away his tears. Blitzwing looked at him like the day they first met.

His mech was still so love with him and Bee couldn’t have been happier.

He felt he jinxed their happiness because it wasn’t long before they were nearing the end of the war that a deadly raid took place.

Carriers were kidnapped, sparklings were offlined, mechs were losing their processors at the loss of their families and the extricating cut off of their bonds.

He knew Megatron still had a spark somewhere left in there because he ordered a retreat and took to the front lines and was the last to board the ship. Whoever he could take he did.

But by then it was too late.

Majority of the sparklings were gone.

The carriers were all offline from the loss of their sparklings or being killed. Sires sparks had given out due to the pain and he was held by high command kept in a tight grip assumed to be a prisoner made to do servant labor.

He remembers the feeling of his spark flickering at watching the ship leave and the battles to come. Blitzwing was his worst trying to get to him. Find any clue of him before being declared too dangerous and wild by Megatron of all bots.

They would send small search parties for him but eventually after the all spark was launched, they stopped.

And Bee was left to autobot command.

Where they eventually put him with a new designation and in bot camp.

Sure he met Bulkhead and they became friends but it wasn’t…life was not the same. Not without his conjunx.

He missed him.

Terribly, every day.

The others knew something was up but not what.

They figured he was too young to have experienced any real pain in life and he hated it. But he didn’t want to expose himself when the elite guard specifically threatened that his former identity not be known.

So he kept his dermas shut, not that his team could tell with his happy go lucky personality, he played his role and part and would then go off looking to the stars hoping for his spark to be out there, alive and well.

He got his wish in the form of two craters in the city of Detroit.

One he remembers being Lugnut who immediately recognized him and thankfully kept quiet and the other, his spark.

Who thankfully sprung into action taking him far from the fight as Lugnut easily handled the others and kept them around him to give the two of them time as Blitzwing soared to the sky shouting incoherent words between all three of his faces while Bee cried tears of joy and screams of pain, relief, agony at being apart for so long and pure happiness at feeling the thrum of his conjunx’s spark swirling in tandem before plunging into his.

His spark soared the skies in a mating dance he readily accepted and trusted without a second thought.

Chirping and cooing with a rev of his engine to a pop of his door wings revealing them in a wing dance of acceptance that made Blitzwing plunge dive. It left Bee a squealing mess of laughter and carefree excitement he hadn’t felt since the day he last raced his love back on their home planet.

They both knew their time was limited.

Bee rushed to kiss his conjunx telling him the words he so desperately needed to say, “I love you,” before his audials heard the most beautiful voice box say it back.

“And I, love you,” his spark always knew how to touch him with words alone.

So long apart yet this wasn’t a stranger before him.

The same Blitzwing he met on the battlefield all those stellar cycles ago. The same Blitzwing who became a triple changer and would try to comfort him even though Bee wasn’t the one in pain. This very same mech who would hand feed him in his lap just because he wanted to take care of him. This very same mech who wanted to shield him from the horrors the best he could during the war. This mech, his mech, whose spark sang for him as they touched helms and became one so easily, after all this time.

This was the same mech he would risk life and limb for without a moments hesitation.

Their many late night meetings on Earth, before the decepticons were captured and brought back to Cybertron, raced through his mind as he snuck into the lower deck of the ship and waited until the coast was clear.

Tears in his optics, servos shaking and spark breaking at the sight of his love who sneered.

So big and strong, even while in so much pain.

He couldn’t help but sniffle and try to silence it before stepping to into the dim flickering light that made red optics more beautiful than they should be in this moment.

“Mein hummel.”

Those optics always beheld the stars when looking at him and he could only hope to do them justice.

“We’re getting out of here,” he kissed, pressing his helm to his beloveds. Servo transforming into a blade Bee cut through the chains as quickly and quietly as he could. Watching his conjunx flick his wings and stretch his frame before scooping him up and making quick work to take the corridors Bee used to sneak inside.

They were halfway free when the alarm rang but by then, it was too late.

“I came prepared,” Bee smiled.

Blurr stood with Shockwave at his side, the one optic con holding most of Blurrs weight as the healing former agent nodded towards them and motioned for them to leave.

Shockwave carried the mech as he ran for it. Blitzwing did the same and Bee made sure to use his arm canon, his original weapon given by his love, to cave in the doorways they passed.

All too soon they were outside making their way into a ship that was rushed to the skies and dodging blaster fire.

Bee could see his former team watching the ship fly away in betrayal and hurt before looking away.

He would never pick them over his spark but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

A servo on his shoulder and he looked to see Blurr shaking his helm.

“Don’t linger, it’ll make it worse.”

Nothing else was said after that.

For once Blurr didn’t talk at the speed of light and Bee had nothing to say.

He burrowed into his spark mate who gripped him tight covering his frame and in return Bee shielded Blitzwing’s spark.

Laying his helm over the shielded thrumming orb of life, he pressed a kiss to it.

And his love helped hide him from the world just as he needed.

I love this ship.

If you have any asks about them go ahead my inbox is always open. Hope everyone enjoys this.

This post inspired me

#blitzbee #blitzwing #bumblebee #blitzwing transformers #bumbleblitz #transformers animated #tfa #mentioned shockblurr #shockblurr #blitzbee week

30 notes · View notes

varadasethus · 3 months

Text

This marriage was meant to be

#robron #robert x aaron #robert sugden #aaron dingle #emmerdale #emmerdaleedit #robronedit #rhia makes gifs #7 years babeeeeeey #this started off as a text post listing some iconic quotes then it got so long that this happened #i still had to miss off some great moments #it was so good having to rewatch this whole episode for the first time in years... phew what a time!

89 notes · View notes

bloggirl8842 · 8 months

Text

Makes me so so sad that my first relationship was bad for me even though nothing explicitly bad happened. I see all these things about first loves or firsts in general and how fun it is but all I felt was obsessive, scared, confused, very rarely good. I only had fun when I was drunk (and he always made sure I was safe when I was drunk ofc) but the rest of it-- and even that-- was so tense and fraught, like trying to make unoiled gears turn

#i HATE that i now associate this w him because that was a friend and now i dont trust him in the slightest and i cant think of him too long #without developing all these unsubstantiated worries. i said i want to be friends again at some point but i really dont know if i can do it #i want to because i miss what was there before but like he as a person is now a trigger for me. its odd because we spoke once since the #breakup and it was good for me at least. it felt good. it felt relieving like having that friend back but if his absence inspires so much #worry (not worry for him but worry about him (who is he really? am i safe around him? is he safe around me? I don't feel safe)) then no.#i need so so so much time to even understand what happened and why it feels so bad and i need an ''after'' to play out to get a real #picture of who anybody involved actually is.#i dont trust him at all even though i want to. what sucks too is i have a great intuition around these things so i know intellectually ther #'s likely nothing that off about him but that he as he currently is is just very bad for me as i currently am. and vice versa. but that fee #like world ending panic if i think about it too much. god i cant wait for september to be over. if he brings up trying to be friends again #(which I hope he won't) I'll have to show him this or some other thing I've written during our time apart so he gets just how much time i #need bc in the moment ill be so relieved to be talking again that ill forget this feeling #we’re working on a show tgt about the devil and in those panic moments that triggers me a bit bc ive had sparse and easy to shut down but #still scary moments where i reflect on very very specific instances and think oh yeah the devil possessed him in that moment. and then im #like girl nooooo it fucking didnt what happened was actually [X] but the fact that my mind even goes there is INSANE #not unprecedented unfortunately. but insane. i was telling my mom some of these things and she was like ‘’that poor kid’’ and i was crying #like ‘’I KNOW he thought he got someone normal and he got ME’’#its so funny hes sad about the breakup in like a normal way meanwhile im like i dont care about the breakup but i think ive committed some #cardinal sins i think there is evil in the water and i may be exhibiting mild psychotic symptoms that ive been suppressing for many years.#i did really leave bc i was just not into it though #this is all like side effects. honestly issues ive been having for years and years but which were triggered and which id been suppressing #since like may/june #i just was not into it and i wanted to be but i wasnt and i got confused #this’ll be a fun memory that i sort of can’t talk about one day

0 notes

claypgeons · 24 days

Text

cat dad?

pairing: theodore nott x fem!hufflepuff!reader

warnings: fluff, cat shifter!reader, happy ending! reader gets high for a moment. tutor!theodore, super rushed ending.

summary: theodore nott adopts a stray hogwarts cat, unaware its actually the sweet hufflepuff he’s developed a small crush on. [2.8k]

notes: reblogs comments and likes are always greatly appreciated <33 pls pls pls send in requests… i’m desperate for something to write

Theodore Nott was at a crossroads. Tonight, his fellow Slytherins were throwing a huge party in honor of the quidditch team making it to the Hogwarts final. Tonight was also the night he was supposed to meet his new tutee.

So, he could either go to this huge party or spend his night tutoring some idiot who can't get their grade up on their own. Obviously, he wanted to pick the party.

The problem was, McGonagall had personally set up this tutoring session, so he couldn't just blow it off, that would make him seem unreliable. And unlike people assume, Theodore cares about his grades, a lot. And with caring about your grades, came building good relationships with your teachers, Theo would brag that he has built a steady relationship with every single one of his.

So, that only left him with one option. Miss the party and stay up all night tutoring.

“Is he still sulking about not going to the party?” he heard the bored voice of Pansy ring through his ear. Instantly he snapped his head to the side, where Pansy was sending him a judgemental look, which he instantly returned.

“Leave him alone.” Draco laughed, he felt for his friend. Theo’s grades were important to him, and although Draco did not understand it, he respected it. He had seen his friend go through the inner turmoil, trying to decide what to do. It was honestly very sad to look at.

“Who are you tutoring anyways?” Blaise chimed in, swallowing the last piece of food he had in his mouth, Theodore tried to recall the name McGonagall had given him, and it took him a second before it came to mind. “Y/N.”

It was like a light switch had flipped in Pansy’s mind. She turned to him wide-eyed, “Like Y/N, Y/N?”

“I don’t know what that means,” Theo answered blankly. He didn’t know this ‘Y/N’ How was he supposed to assume they were the one Pansy was referring to?

Pansy rolled her eyes, standing up and muttering a small ‘idiot’ before walking away. Theo watched her walk towards the Hufflepuff table before he turned to Draco, “Where is she going?”

Shrugging Draco muttered, “How am I supposed to know?”

All three boys who were currently occupying a side of the Slytherin table, watched curiously as Pansy sat down next to a girl with her head down. They saw as Pansy patted the girl on the shoulder, getting her attention.

You rubbed your eyes, trying to get adjusted to the bright white light, muttering a small ‘gosh’ you turned your head to where you felt the disturbing taps come from. It took you a moment, but after your eyes had focused, you broke out into a big smile, “Pansy!” you greeted happily.

The girl sat at your side, and smiled, “Hey, Y/N.” Pansy and you had been acquaintances since your third year. You two had been partnered for a small group project and had bonded quite well.

“Are you starting a new tutor tonight?” Pansy had gotten quite to the point. You nodded, ever since your second year, you had, had more than twelve tutors, you were now in your sixth year. You had great trouble learning; so you and McGonagall had set up a system where you were getting new tutors every couple of months. To simulate brain activity and whatnot.

“Is it him?” Pansy turned to the Slytherin table and pointed to someone. You turned slowly, making direct eye contact with a pale-faced dark-haired boy. You stared at him with wide-set eyes, trying to recall how McGonagall had described him. Not realizing that your stare was incredibly off-putting.

Theodore stared back with blank eyes, slowly looking side to side, only to give you a confused look when he realized you were indeed staring at him, piercing holes through his head. You continued to stare with wide eyes until it clicked. Happily, you turned back to Pansy. “I think it’s him!”

Pansy grinned, “Is it okay if he misses tutoring today? He wants to go to the party.”

‘This is great’ You thought. You had been wanting to go to the party, but you didn’t know how to excuse your way out of tutoring. You had even stayed up late trying to come up with something- hence you slept during breakfast.

“That’s perfectly fine!”

Later that night, Theodore Nott was happily watching his friends get drunk off their asses; Draco was loudly confessing his love for Pansy, while she recorded him laughing, while Blaise and Luna were shyly talking in a corner. Just as he was turning to sit on the green couch, he had caught sight of..you?

He thought for a second about how strange it was to never know a person existed, but the one time you notice them, you start to see them everywhere. And before he knew it, he was making his way over to you.

He walked just a couple of steps, and was able to hear the last couple of words in your sentence, “And I'm not saying I believe in the earth being flat you know? But she was making some great points.” you nodded to yourself, the boy next to you, who was very clearly only trying to get your number, looked at you as if you were crazy, before walking away with a defeated sigh.

You didn’t even seem to notice the boy walking away, instead, you turned to your right, muttering to yourself, “I’m hungry.” that was until you crashed into someone.

Looking up, you saw your new tutor, you greeted him with a smile, “Oh, hello!”

Theodore froze. He didn’t know why he had walked up to you. His palms felt sweaty, his heart was beating incredibly fast, and the music around him seemed to get louder and louder, what were you doing to him? He swallowed thickly, trying to force a greeting out of his mouth.

“Say, do you think the earth is flat?” you looked up at him with squinted-red eyes. “Because I don’t, but..”

You continued, but for some reason, the only thing Theodore could focus on was your red foggy eyes, with a quirk on his lips, he blurted out, “Are you high?” instantly you froze, until you burst out into incredibly fake laughter.

“What?” you ‘laughed’, Theo watched you with a tiny smile, watching you try to explain yourself, “I-“ you gasped “I would never.”

The truth was, you were high. You had been since you arrived at the party forty minutes prior. But you could admit that to your tutor. He would think you’re a drug addict. Suddenly, you got serious, staring up at him with wide eyes, “No, no. I would never.” you shook your head. “Never,” you added as a precaution.

Theodore nodded, humming slightly with his lips tightly together, and just like that you broke; “Okay maybe I am!” you leaned closer to whisper, “It’s only so I can sleep better you know?”

“Okay..” Theo laughed slightly, slowly nodding his head. Trying to keep the conversation going, he added “Are you hungry?”

Letting out a big exhale, you nodded “Oh, yes I am!” nodded, you quickly added, “I should go to the kitchens.” you stared at him with blank eyes, and he stared back, it was awkward for a good three minutes, before you shook your head, “Would you like to join me?“

“You’ve had twelve tutors?” Theodore gaped in shock, you nodded mournfully, slipping the ice cream spoon into your mouth. “I know, I know.” you sighed, used to getting this reaction.

Theo laughed, swallowing down his ice cream, “So you’re just going to replace me after some time.” you and Theo had been in the kitchen for who knows how long, you were on your third pint of ice cream, while he was on his second. Reaching over, you placed your hand on top of his incredibly cold one. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out.” you have him a fake sympathy look.

Snatching his hand back, Theo shook his head, “I can’t believe this.” you both laughed, eating the last bite of your ice cream, before dumping the pint with success. Theo looked down at his watch, 3:21 a.m. it read; his eyes widened, he knew for a fact you guys had left the party at 1:13 am, you had been talking for more than two hours?

As if you read his mind, you yawned, the two hours of chatting finally catching up to you. “I think it’s time for me to fall into a coma.” you sighed. You know we’re feeling the after-effects of drugs, the headache, the wanting to hurl, and the sleepiness.

Theodore nodded. standing up and throwing away his empty pint. He was going to offer to take you to your dorm. But that felt like too much, too soon.

So he settled for walking you out of the kitchen. You two said goodbye and set a time for your first official tutoring before you walked away.

Theodore watched you go with a small smile on his lips and a giddy feeling in his heart, before looking around to make sure nobody saw him smiling at your disappearing figure.

The next morning, Theodore stood in front of his mirror, he had tried on three different ties, and still couldn’t find the perfect one. The boys behind him were all groaning from their hangover, but this was much more important. He needs to look his best when he tutors you.

With a shake of the head, he decided to go with the same one he had worn last night. After you two had gone your separate ways, Theo had spent twenty minutes researching the odd symptoms you caused. After coming to terms that he had a tiny ‘crush’ on you. He spent the next thirty minutes researching ‘how to get a pretty girl to like you.’

They all said the same thing; be kind, and respectful, and make her laugh. Theo had never tried those things before. Normally girls would just come up to him and ask him to have sex. That was enough for him. But he didn’t think it would be enough for you. So this was all new territory for him.

Walking out of the boy’s dormitories, Theodore wished them good luck on their headaches before making his way to the library. On Tuesdays and Fridays, Theodore sat in the great hall to eat breakfast for the others, while the rest of the days, he spent his morning in the library, studying. And since yesterday was Tuesday, today he was to spend his morning in the library.

He sat at his usual table and immediately got to work on his potions essay. He thought back to you and wondered if you had even started your essay, ‘Stop doing that’ he scolded himself mentally. Ever since meeting you last night, every little thing he does he traces back to you. If he was brushing his teeth ‘I wonder if Y/N is brushing her teeth right now.’ If he was waking up ‘I wonder if she’s still asleep.’ And now.

“Hello Theodore.” the librarian greeted as she walked by, she had her nose in a book and swiftly walked away before Theodore could manage out a greeting. Turning back to his books, Theodore was surprised to see a small brown cat trying to get its claws into his granola bar. “Hey, shoo!” he whispered shouted at the cat, looking around the library hoping to see the cat’s owner around. Only to see a disgusting couple snogging in the dark corner.

He turned back to the cat, who looked over to the snogging couple, then back to him with what Theodore could only describe as disgust. “Disgusting right?” he scoffed, watching in amazement as the cat drove straight to his lap with a purr. “Oh.” he whispered, trying to push down the ‘aw’ that was begging to escape.

“Where are your owners, hm?” he whispered, tickling under the cat’s chin, smiling when it reached up and pushed his hand towards its belly. All Hogwarts pets were required to wear a collar that specifies the owner’s name, age, and house. This cat had none of the above. So in Theoodres eyes, it was up for grabs. And although Theodore was never a pet guy, there was just something about this cat.

And so, Theodore quickly packed up all his items before quickly walking out of the library, with the tiny cat under his sweater. He didn't want to run into anyone who recognized the his cat.

“Do you want to start on the potions essay?” Theodore whispered over to you. It was now half an hour after classes ended, and you and Theodore were working one to one.

You had arrived at the library flustered and sweating. You were sure Theodore had noticed, but you were thankful he didn't pry. All morning and afternoon you were considering begging Mcgonagall for a new tutor, bearing in mind Theodore had adopted you as his cat.

Now, Theodore didn't know you were his now-adopted cat, but it still felt wrong acting like you weren’t the cat he’d become cuddled up with. But you couldn’t just tell him you were a cat-shifter. The only other people in Hogwarts that were aware of this fact, were McGonagall and Dumbledore. It was a secret nobody was supposed to know. You decided that it was fine to continue with your friendship, admittedly you also came to that conclusion because you didn’t want to stop talking to Theodore.

“I already finished it.” you coughed, handing it over to Theodore, “Could you go over it?” you asked.

Theodore smiled, “That’s what I’m here for.”

Twenty minutes later, you and Theodore were sitting in silence he was working on some of his work while you worked on yours. “I got a cat you know?” Theodore whispered to you, placing down his quill.

You choked on your spit, of course, you knew. You were the cat. “Oh.” you managed out, avoiding the most eye contact you could. If Theodore noticed your change in tone, he didn't comment, “Yeah.” he smiled, “I’m not really the biggest cat person, but she’s just so cute.” he gushed. You felt even dirtier, hearing him gush over a cat, not knowing it was actually you, made you feel sick.

“Oh.” you paused. Hoping the conversation would end there. Glancing to you out of the corner of his eye Theodore assumed you were too focused on your work, so he dropped it.

Three months later, Theodore sat at the corner of his bed, looking over at his cat, muffins. “Tomorrow the day,” he whispered. The curtains along his bed were shut, but he didn’t want anyone to hear him talk to his cat.

Muffins tended to disappear for days at a time. And the first time she did, he was scared shitless, but he’s learned to become accustomed to it.

Muffins tilted his head, confused. “I’m asking her on a date,” Theodore confessed. Muffin's eyes widened as if in horror, and a small whine came from her mouth. Theodore frowned, “I swear, you’ll like her muffins.” Theodore hasn’t had the chance to introduce you to muffins, because for some reason, whenever one of you is with him, the other is nowhere to be found.

The next day, you were nowhere to be found, Theodore had been expecting to see you during potions but it seems like you had skipped, not like you.

That was until, dinner.

You seemly eat your food faster than you ever have before. And quickly got up from your seat and walked out of the great hall doors. Then you ran into someone, and you knew by the smell who this someone was, Theodore.

“Shit,” you muttered looking up at a red-faced Theodore, he didn’t acknowledge your absents from his day, instead he got straight to what you were most terrified of “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

You stared up at him for what felt like an eternity, before you opened your mouth and spoke something Theodore could never imagine, “I’m your cat.”

Theodore took a step back, and you stared at him, “What.” he looked at you with a blank face.

Then came the rambling “I’m so sorry Theodore, but you had just gotten so attached to Muffins and I could just disappear, you wouldn’t have thought she died.” you took a deep breath. “And I couldn’t tell you I was her, you would hate me! And I didn’t want you to hate me, because you’re so nice, and cute, and-“

And, before you knew it, Theodore’s lips were on yours.

#theodore nott fluff #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #harry potter x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fic #theodore nott drabble #theodore nott #harry potter #cat shifter!reader #harry potter fluff

1K notes · View notes

eternally-racing · 3 months

Text

baby steps | lando norris

pairing: lando norris x wife!reader (plus their adorable lil kiddo)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 2.5k

summary: Lando needs a little bit of encouragement to head off to his first race after the birth of your daughter, so what better thing to do than surprise him on race day?

note: this fic can be read as a stand alone or as part of the racer girl series !

---

When you first showed Lando the two lines on your positive pregnancy test, your entire world had changed. It felt like such a whirlwind of excitement, and before you knew it you were 9 months pregnant watching Lando’s races on television. It was pure luck that your water only broke the day after the season ended, which meant that Lando had a cherished couple of months with your baby girl, Piper, before heading back to racing.

The two of them had become quite the dynamic duo in your household. From the moment that Lando first looked at your daughter, he knew that he was in love. He was an amazing father and you told him exactly that at every moment you could. It was one of the biggest fears that Lando had, being an absent father or not knowing what to do. Before you met Lando he was fully in his bachelor lifestyle, not once even thinking of kids, but now he was the biggest girl dad you’ve ever seen, giving into your daughter’s every whim. It’s exactly why Lando says he wants to give up racing all together once he sees your daughter cry for the first time when he leaves to go to the MTC for the first time since she was born - he would do anything for Piper, he would give up everything he loved if it meant that his little girl would be happy. Luckily, he had you to keep him grounded, and after more than a couple of tearful conversations you had helped Lando make peace with continuing on with his career with you and your daughter there to support him in the background. This was the first week that this was truly going to be tested though, since it was finally time for him to fly to Bahrain.

“Say goodbye to daddy!” you say as you pick up your daughter’s hand to make her wave.

You can see the way the wheels are turning in Lando’s head as he stays frozen in the entryway. He’s not forgetting anything, there’s no way he could with your packing lists that he’s used for every single race since you started dating. Even if he did forget something, he knows he could easily get someone from the team to either shop for him or send it over.

“Y/N I - , I don’t know anymore about this,” Lando mutters with his grip on the door handle loosening.

“Lan, cmon now, I can’t have two babies in this house at once.” you joke as you pinch his cheek. “But seriously, you’re gonna be okay? Just do your best out there. I’m only a phone call away all the time if you need me. You’re going to be great and we’re cheering you on from here. I’ll send you all the pictures and videos and everything so it’ll feel like you’re still with us.”

While Piper can’t talk yet, she still reaches out to Lando to gently pat his shoulder - which only brings more tears to the forefront of Lando’s eyes. He always said his daughter was smart beyond her years, able to sense things even some adults don’t notice.

“What if Piper can’t fall asleep without me reading her story? What if she learns how to walk before I’m gone? Or what if she forgets that I even exist?”

“First off, I have memorized “the Rainbow Fish” perfectly from the 7 different times you taught me it. She’s not going to walk because she’s barely 8 months old. And lastly, she’s not going to forget you Lando, I promise you that. Do you trust me?”

Lando doesn’t miss a beat when he says “always.”

You hand your daughter off to Lando’s arms in exchange for the carry on that’s currently in his hands. You know that all he needs to do is hold her, to remember that feeling of being with her so he can keep that memory with him for the week ahead. You’re not the only one who’s noticed the way that Piper always immediately seems to calm down whenever she’s in her dad’s arms. There was something special between the two of them, something so unbreakable - which is exactly what you tell Lando.

“Plus I think she’s in that phase where she’s starting to like you better, so I could use some alone time with our little bug” you tease as you squish your daughter’s cheeks. When Lando sees you cracking jokes it makes him feel a little more at ease - if you were so comfortable with this then why shouldn’t he be too? With one last hug and kiss, Lando finally walks out the door with a promise to facetime you once he gets to the airport.

Piper starts crying the second she realizes that her dad is really gone, and honestly you shed a few tears too.

“Don’t worry Pipes, we’re going to see daddy sooner than you think,” you whisper to your daughter as you try to soothe her. Little did Lando know that you had a bag packed in your bedroom for you and your daughter to surprise him at the paddock on race day.

—

The expectations were low for Lando in Bahrain, both from the media and from himself. He had been very upfront about having different priorities this summer than just racing, so he had been a write-off in so many people’s minds. That’s what made it even sweeter when Lando saw the checkered flag first in Bahrain, marking the very first time he had ever won at the circuit. It’s no secret that Lando had become more sensitive since he had become a dad, but when he says “This one is for my girls, I love you Y/N and Piper” over the radio, it brings tears to everyone’s eyes.

Lando is already over the moon. He gives a big cheer to the roaring crowd before going to hug the rest of the team. It’s absolutely electric and it really seems like everyone, regardless of whether they are a McLaren fan or not, could appreciate how much this win meant to him.

But the sweetest moment is when he spots you. You’re a little bit off to the side, a couple of security guards standing around you to make sure that nobody would try and trample over you and Piper. Little Piper is wearing a pair of noise canceling McLaren branded headphones on her ears as she hangs out happily in your arms. It’s like she spots her dad at the same time too, since she starts waving her arms in Lando’s direction. Lando immediately stops everything he’s doing to run over to you two. You have a knowing look in your eye, like you were just waiting for him to finally spot you both.

“Oh my god, you’re here.” Lando lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Having you both here makes him finally feel complete, like his heart was finally whole again.

“There’s no way we were going to miss daddy’s first race of the season. Congratulations, babe”

Lando has questions of course - how you managed to pull this off without him noticing, whether Piper gave you trouble on the plane, and so much more. For now, though, he just wants to spend time with you two. He almost forgets that he’s at the race entirely, let alone that he won it until a team member comes up behind him to ask him if he’s ready to do his interview 5 minutes from now.

When Piper reaches over with her little grabby hands for Lando, you of course give into her whims as you pass her over to the sweaty driver. It also gives you a second to pull out your phone and capture the moment for yourself. Piper is playing with the visor on Lando’s helmet, learning a new form of peek a boo that you know that she’s going to want to keep playing when you get home. You’re the one who helps keep Lando on track, giving him one last kiss on his helmet before you tell him to head off towards the hoard of media personnel eagerly awaiting his appearance. When you go to take Piper back from him she refuses to budge, and with both Piper and Lando giving you their classic puppy dog eyes, you know you’re outnumbered.

“Keep her safe, Lan, okay?” It’s a rhetorical question. You know that Lando wouldn’t let anything happen to her - but it’s still a big crowd, the biggest you’ve ever been since you gave birth, and it’s a little scary to not hold onto her here.

You don’t think anyone has ever seen Will Buxton this happy as he pulls Lando aside for his post-race interview.

“I have to say, congratulations on an absolutely brilliant drive from you today, Lando - and would you like to introduce the special guest you’ve brought with you?” Will asks with a grin.

Lando can’t help the similar smile that is etched on his face as he looks at his little girl. “This is my daughter Piper, and she’s just the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I can’t share enough praise for my beautiful wife Y/N too - words can’t describe how much she means to me.I really wouldn’t be standing here in front of you today without her support.” Lando looks back at you with a smile and kisses Piper on the cheek to end off his sentence, but Piper seems to be more interested in the texture of the mic than her dad at the moment.

“What does it mean to you to have this be your first win as a father, Lando?”

“Oh man, this little girl is everything to me - I just want to do my best on the track so that Piper can look back and always be proud to have me as her dad.”

The moment is made extra sweet as Piper tosses and turns in Lando’s hold so that she can cling to him like a koala bear, pulling herself further into Lando’s chest. She is starting to like the microphone just as much as Lando, so she pulls her face right onto it before she says her very first word - “dada”.

At first Lando thinks he’s hallucinating - there’s so many people around and there’s so much noise that he can barely hear himself think. But then Piper says it again and he can’t help but start to cry.

“She -, she- called me dada, oh my god I can’t believe it,” Lando’s in pure disbelief as he stares in awe at his little girl and looks back at you watching in the crowd. For a minute he forgets that there’s a full corral of people watching him until he hears a collective “awww” from the crowd. “Sorry it’s just -, wow, she’s never done that before.” he says sincerely as he wipes the tears from his cheeks.

It’s now Piper’s turn to cry as she gets overwhelmed with all the eyes that are staring at her, pushing the microphone away from her as she buries her head into Lando’s shoulder. She is just a little kid, after all. Lando wraps up the interview as fast as he can, apologizing as he whisks Piper away to try and lift her spirits.

Luckily it’s time to head into the cooldown room, which proves to be the perfect place for Piper to calm down from her outburst. The antics continue there as Lando bounces Piper on her lap, pointing to the TV screen to show her all the highlights.

“Look at daddy about to overtake uncle Charles! And there’s uncle Alex, and uncle George...” Lando continues to retell the story of the last two hours as the other two podium sitters, Max and Oscar, chime in intermittently. Sometimes Piper’s gaze falls to Lando’s new hat instead of the screen, but he’s happy to have her in the room with him to share this moment.

You have to really bargain with Lando to get him to hand Piper back to you so he can head to the podium by himself - it’s only at the rational explanation of not wanting your baby covered in champagne that he finally gives in to reason. Piper loves seeing the celebrations on the podium, adding in some cheers of her own when she sees her dad jumping up and down with joy on the podium. The little girl is addicted to the shine of the Bahrain trophy in the sun and you and Lando both later joke that she likes the piece of metal better than the both of you combined.

It’s no surprise that Piper falls asleep on the car ride home - you do the same next to her as the jet lag catches up to you both. Piper still keeps one hand firmly on the trophy, having barely let it out of her sight since Lando brought it to her. Lando can’t help but feel so lucky as he looks through the rearview mirror at the both of you.

It never gets any easier - leaving. The next weekend Lando heads to the United States and Piper cries the whole day once she notices that he’s packing a suitcase. You’re honest with Lando when you tell him that you’ll see him once he gets back, there’s no way you and Piper would be able to handle all the time changes and long haul flights that would come with going to every race.

You still watch every race though, throwing sleep training to the wind as Piper often stays up at all odd hours to watch with you. There are so many moments where you wish that you could be there with Lando, especially with the season he’s having. As the journalists would say, Lando’s “dad powers” have brought him his best ever start to a Formula 1 season, as he has yet to finish outside the top 3 so far.

“What do you think is going to happen when I don’t come home from a trip with one of those?” Lando jokes as he sees your daughter absolutely enamored with the newest addition to her trophy collection. It’s the Australian GP trophy, which proves to be the perfect vessel for Piper to put her cereal pieces into. The little girl has taken to yelling as her new favorite hobby, and she shows it off every time she squeals with joy when Lando walks through the door after a race.

“I don’t want to find out, so you’ll just have to keep getting podiums, Lan” you joke back as you lean your head onto his shoulder.

----

author's note: oh man, this has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER as i tried to perfect it but i really wanted to share it with you all. Thanks for all the love - asks are open if you want to say hello or make a request! Until next time! - Em 🤍

2K notes · View notes

kookslastbutton · 2 months

Text

what love feels like ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.

Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content

sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together

Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie

a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰

“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”

With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.

Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.

It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?

Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.

“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”

“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."

“Oh, well that’s very–“

“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.

“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”

Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.

“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.

Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”

As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”

“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.

“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”

With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.

“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”

The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.

“What did you say your last name is?”

You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.

“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.

“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.

“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”

Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.

“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”

“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”

“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.

There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.

Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?

“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.

“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”

“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”

“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.

“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.

“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”

Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?

This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.

“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.

“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."

Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.

For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.

Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.

Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.

“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”

What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”

“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.

You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.

“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.

“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."

With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.

"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.

"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.

"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."

"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.

"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"

"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.

"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."

Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."

"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.

"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"

You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"

"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."

The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.

"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."

That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.

"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.

"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."

"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”

"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."

Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."

Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.

"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.

"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.

"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.

"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.

"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.

"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"

Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.

"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.

"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"

"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."

"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"

"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."

"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"

Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."

Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"

"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"

"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."

It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.

"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."

"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.

"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.

"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.

The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.

Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.

"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"

Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"

"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"

"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."

You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.

"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"

"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"

"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.

"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.

"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."

"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.

"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."

"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.

"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.

Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.

What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.

You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.

"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.

"'m, I love you too."

Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.

"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.

"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."

He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"

You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.

"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."

You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.

"Yoon?"

"Mm."

"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.

"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.

"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.

"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.

You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.

"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."

Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.

"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."

His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.

"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."

Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.

"But...you haven't seen me–"

"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."

"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."

Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.

"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.

Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.

"Can I?"

You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.

With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.

"Fuck," you swear.

"Feeling good?"

All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.

"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.

"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"

He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.

Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.

"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."

"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"

Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.

Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.

You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.

"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.

"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."

Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"

"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.

"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.

"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.

"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.

"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."

"Really? You're not just teasing me?"

Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.

"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.

Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.

"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.

Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.

"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."

Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.

"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."

"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"

Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.

"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."

"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"

"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."

"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.

"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.

This is what love feels like.

a/n: LMK what you think 🥰

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts imagine #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts au #fic:whatlovefeelslike #kookslastbutton

2K notes · View notes

wintfleur · 2 months

Note

I am in hungry for a f1 fic….. pls feed me

౨ৎ dramatic mornings are perfect with you

°. — pairings ( lando norris x fem! reader )

°. — summary ( lando will always deal with your dramatics . . . because even so early in the morning he finds you adorable )

°. — details ( g; fluff, humor ig?. w; none really, a little talk of readers boobs. wc; 1.9k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I am hungry for some f1 fics too . . I’ve missed writing for f1, I’m sure I’ll be writing more now that the season has started !!! Hope this satisfies your hunger <333 please let me know what you guys think x )

main masterlist f1 masterlist

You let out an annoyed sigh as you laced your fingers across your midsection and on top of your duvet, your thumbs absentmindedly tapping against each other. Your eyes darted to the right to see that he still hasn't moved at all, no reaction from him as he slept peacefully next to you, the sun that shone through your white curtains illuminating his face so beautifully.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked away from him and back up at your ceiling, a small huff leaving your lips. You continued to tap your thumbs against each other for a few more moments only to abruptly stop as an even louder sigh left your lips. You quickly turn your head to face him when you hear the familiar sound of the blankets shift, and a grumpy frown comes across your face when you see him snuggle into his pillow, instead of waking up and asking you what's wrong like you expected him to do.

The more you stared at your oblivious and sleeping boyfriend, the more annoyed you got. His beautiful brown curls were all over the place ⸺ a physical testimony to how he can't stay still even in bed. Those beautiful curls that girl had the nerve to run her hands through. His cheek was squished against your baby pink pillow, soft breaths leaving his slightly parted lips. The same lips that smiled down at the girl and kissed her forehead . . . you couldn't believe it when you saw it.

Well to clarify . . . you didn't see it. You dreamt it . . . But that's not the point!

You looked away from your sleeping boyfriend and to your left where your bedside table was, your pink cloud alarm clock showed that it was 7 in the morning. You and lando both refused to be up so early on days off like today, but while your boyfriend was sleeping peacefully ⸺ you couldn't find yourself being able to go back to sleep after the dream you had.

You rolled over on your side facing lando and leaned up on your elbow, you still had a grumpy frown on your lips as you stared down at him. You had to stop yourself from bringing your hand down and softly brush his curls out of his face and remind yourself that you were in fact upset with him. How could you not be after what he did?

You used your free hand and moved it towards him, pulling the blanket down from covering his shoulder before poking him right in the ribs. Your first poke got no reaction since it was too soft, so your second one was much harder and the only reaction you got was a groan leaving his parted lips and him moving to lay fully on his stomach instead of laying on his side. You ignored the awe you wanted to let out when he does that adorable nose scrunch as he snuggles deeper into your pillows.

“Lando” you hissed his name but the only reaction you got from him was him turning his head away from you, a dramatic and offended gasp leaving your lips at the action. You glare at the back of his hand and fully sit up. You bring your finger up to his shoulder blade and his cotton t-shirt did nothing to protect him from the feeling of your relentless poking.

“Darling if you poke me again” Lando grumbled groggily as he lifted his head up from the pillow and turned to face you, his eyes were barely open and he had a red hue and a few line marks from your pillow on his face, all signs of having a great sleep ⸺ a great sleep you interrupted, any other morning you would have felt bed . . . but today was not one of them.

“You're what?. . . going to cheat on me again?”

“What?” Lando choked on his own spit, his tone filled with confusion and grogginess. He pushed himself up on his elbows, the movement causing the blanket to fully fall off his back and you to feel a cold chill on your bare thighs; your sleep shorts not helping against the morning chill. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palms and turned his head to look at you, his eyes narrowed “What on earth are you talking about ⸺ are you feeling sick? Because you are talking mad”

You slapped his hand away from your forehead that he was trying to feel for a fever and glared at him as you crossed your arms over your chest. “What's sick is what you let her do . . . would you stop staring at my tits!” You trailed off into a shout once you noticed your boyfriend's eyes staring down at your white lace camisole covered chest.

You gasped dramatically and pulled the pillow out from under his elbows and used it to cover your chest “I bet you couldn't keep your eyes off her tits! Could you?” your tone was accusatory, and your grumpy frown turns into a sad one at the thought, you held the pillow tightly to your chest for some comfort. Lando loved your boobs . . . it hurt to think that he was staring at someone else's.

“Darling, i have no idea who this she is” Lando said as he moved to sit up, his fingers in air quotes as he says ‘she’. Lando moves closer to you and gently pulls down the pillow you stuffed your face in and continues speaking, your words had chased away any ounce of tiredness in his body “But i can assure you, that your boobs, your wonderful boobs may i add, are the only ones i stare at.”

“You cheated on me, i am not going to fall for your sweet words lando”

“When did I cheat on you hmm?” Lando questioned you, tilting his head with a hum. He knew for a fact that he has never and will never cheat on you, so he was confused and concerned why you were passionate that he did. You were too upset to notice the concern in your boyfriend's tone and you were quick to answer him “In my dream! You let her run her hands through your hair and down your chest and then you had the nerve to kiss her forehead!”

“Wait wait wait . . . your dream?” Lando cut your rant off, a look of disbelief on his face from your words. This was all because of your dream? Lando thought. And even though Lando felt the tiniest of annoyance from being woken up so early, he couldn't help but find the situation and the way you were acting . . . adorable. “Yes, my dream, keep up lan!” you rolled your eyes in annoyance and lando let himself relax back in bed, laying back down and pulling you down with him. You reluctantly let yourself lay on your side, facing him.

“You're annoyed with me?” Lando muttered as he rested his chin in the palm of his hand as he stared at his girlfriend, blinking away the sleep in his eyes.

“Clearly”

“For something that I did in your dream?” He had to stop himself from smiling when he asked you, he didn't know why it was so attractive to see you jealous about a dream. You noticed his lips twitching up into a smile for a few seconds before falling into his resting face. A dramatic scoff leaves your lips, and you are quick to turn your back to him, upset that he wasn't taking this seriously.

Lando smiles and scoots closer behind you, sliding his arm around your waist and resting it under the pillow you were still holding against your chest, using his strength to pull you back snug against him. You wanted to complain and push him off, but you couldn't help but let yourself sink and relax in his warm embrace. Lando who was still leaning up on his elbow looks down at your side profile as he speaks softly “I’m sorry i did that darling, dream me is very stupid it seems.”

“But that was just a dream because I promise you, you are the only girl I want. The only girl whose tits I want and do look at” Lando leaned down as he trailed off into a whisper, your breath hitching when you felt his warm breath against your neck as he whispers in your ear. Lando slipped his hand under your camisole and softly traced random shapes on your stomach as he continued to whisper “The only forehead i want to kiss is yours.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling at your boyfriend's words, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing his sweet talking was in fact working. Lando moves his hand out from under your top and softly places two of his fingers on your jaw, gently using them to tilt your face towards him. Lando has a small pout on his very kissable lips as he looks down at you “Baby please don't be mad at me because dream me is an idiot, you know I’d never do that to you.”

“You're right . . . you are an idiot” you whispered back with a small nod as you adjusted your body to lay on your back. You lifted your hand to brush back some of Lando's messy curls from his face as he looked down at you. Lando's eyes fluttered closed for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of you playing with his hair before he opened them and looked down at you with a big smile “You mean dream me, right?”

You shrugged playfully, the corner of your lips tilting up into a cheeky smile. Lando gasped dramatically, faking shock and hurt at your words. You thought he was going to bring his hand to dramatically put over his heart like your dramatic boyfriend has done before, when you saw him move it from your chin, but instead he rests it on the pillow right next to your head; caging you in between his body and the bed.

You locked eyes with your boyfriend and before you could question why he was smirking down at you like that, he was leaning down and leaving a big smooch on your cheek. He quickly moved to your other cheek, then he littered kisses all over your face. Making sure that he kissed every inch of your beautiful face. “Eww lan morning breath” you whined out as you tried to cover your face with your hands, worried that he would smell your breath.

“My girl thinks I’d cheat on her with some random girl from the club ⸺ morning breath is the last thing on my mind right now” Lando whispered as he swiped his thumb across your bottom lip before moving it up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear and out of your face. You smile softly as you hear him say ‘my girl’. You whisper with an embarrassed sigh as you think back on the morning you two have shared “I've been pretty dramatic haven't I?”

“You're so adorable you know that right?” Lando grinned, completely ignoring your question. Yes, you were, but he wouldn't change anything about you at all. He wouldn't change anything about this morning. Because he woke up with you by his side. You smile and bite your lip, absentmindedly fidgeting with the bottom of Lando's shirt “Mind telling me that again?”

“I promise to tell you that every day for the rest of our lives.”

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I LOVE THIS SM !!! I MISSED WRITING CUTE BF LANDO, please let me know that you guys think, and if you’d like to be added to my lando or my f1 taglist 🫶🏻 )

°. — taglist ( @ophcelia @cixrosie @toasttt11 )

2K notes · View notes

queers-gambit · 8 months

Text

Neon Sticky Notes

prompt: ( requested ) reminding your boyfriend you love him one sticky note at a time.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 2.4k+

note: baby gets what baby wants! God, do i hope this is what you want, my baby...

warnings: probably cursing, Carmy needs a nap, men being simps, this is short and sweet! it's FINALLY edited!!!

You knew he was struggling. Worn-out, beaten down, exhausted, run ragged, amuck, and into the ground.

It was evident in the way he carried himself; the prominent bags under his eyes, the way he tossed and turned in bed before being found on the living room couch in the morning. His hair seemed greasier then usual, his skin turning gaunt and grey, and you knew he wasn't making time to eat.

By comparison, you had a simple job, something corporate and in an office. Something that made decent money; something you were good at, something you could find pride in doing.

However, Carmy's job as a chef was different; being more than stressful, and while coupled together for years now, it was still a work-in-progress each time Carmen started on a new venture. Owning, running, and converting The Beef into something "better" should've been no different, only it was - it was totally different. Carmy was frazzled, looking deranged some evenings, as if operating on adrenaline, and you were at a loss on how to help.

So, you resorted to a natural instinct - communicating.

Carmy needed reassurance, he needed support, he needed to be loved for who he is, exactly how he was, in order to keep his head on straight. You never did mind the challenge that was Carmen Berzatto, finding him akin to a puzzle. So, on your way home from work one evening, you stopped at a CVS to grab a pack of neon, multi-colored sticky notes and a brand new Sharpie marker.

You had an idea.

When you got back to your shared apartment, you unloaded the groceries you needed onto the counters before calling Carmy. "Hey, Peaches," he answered on the third ring, usual kitchen clatter in the background, "everything okay?"

"Yeah, all good."

"Sure? Sound outta breath."

"The elevator's broken, I got groceries," you groaned, "and have been skipping the gym for a couple weeks."

He chuckled, "Never skip leg day, baby, you know it's our house motto."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever - hush. I'm just wondering if you had an ETA for tonight? I have an early morning meeting, so I want to go to sleep early."

"Uh," he trailed, a muffled ruffling sounding over the line before a small clatter that made him sigh, "yeah, um, you know what? I really don't know, baby, I'm sorry. You do your thing and I'll be quiet when I get in, just leave my stuff on the couch."

"No, come to bed," you whined slightly, "I miss you."

"Awh, yeah, miss you, too, Peach. I'll be there," he promised.

You finished putting all groceries away; the dishes following, then you got started on prepping dinner. Look, you were no cook - that was all Carmy. But you weren't totally useless in a kitchen, so, you didn't mind taking over most meals now that Carmy was waist-deep in The Beef's bullshit. You played music as you cooked, poured a glass of wine, danced around, and tried to think of a list of encouraging things to remind Carmy. You ate dinner alone, and when done with clean-up, faced off with your sticky notes and Sharpie.

The first note was scribbled and stuck on the covered plate in the fridge: Bone Apple Teeth, Chef!

Then you wrote a note to leave at the door where Carm was sure to drop his keys: make sure you eat the plate I left you!

Humming, you pondered a moment before smirking and writing a third note to be left on the TV remote: I know you too well. come to bed.

Lastly, you wrote a fourth and final note to be left in the bathroom: great job today, Chef! you're killing it!

You were fast asleep when he got home. He found the note in the key bowl, smirking at your kindness and thoughtfulness. Carmy saw the messily-drawn heart and pocketed the note, toeing off his shoes and entering the kitchen. He reheated the plate you left, pocketed the second note after a silent grin of amusement, and when ready, took his hot food to the couch.

Carmy laughed when he found your third note. He left it on the table as he ate, half-watching the news segment he flipped on. When he was full and his plate clear, Carmy turned the TB off, pocketed your note, set everything in the dishwasher, started it, and then went into the bathroom. Another soft chuckle emitted as he pulled the final note in his hand - and you already know he saved it.

When he got in your shared room, he made sure to leave the notes in a random shoe box, stashing it in his closet, changed for the night, and crawled into bed with you.

This was a regular occurrence now: Carmy came home late to a barrage of sticky notes, saved them all, then crashed in bed with you. You missed each other, but understood scheduling just didn't line up right now. It wasn't like you two never saw one another, you still did - but it wasn't like it was. Time together now felt fleeting, as if you had to savor everything, so you made the most of your situation.

Was it overcompensation? Possibly. But Carmy adored your notes.

Sometimes, you'll be sat in the living room, reading a book, working on your laptop, or scrolling Instagram on your phone, while he cooks and he finds a note left on the milk carton that reads: I am UDDERLY in love with you!

Get it? 'Cause cows have udders? You were pretty proud of that pun.

Other times, he'll be up at an unGodly hour, getting a steamy hot shower, and you'll come in to pee. He doesn't think anything of anything until he gets out of the stall only to see a neon orange sticky note on the counter, saying: i love your butt! lemme pinch it!

Carmy feels himself looking forward to your little surprises. Some were funny and a little vulgar, like the note found on the eggs: fertilize MY eggs!

Some notes were more innocent, like the one he found in his shoe one morning, reading: I'm so proud of you. have a great day today!

Some just said: be home for dinner @ 8! making your fav!

Others were found, saying: you're so fucking handsome. I'm one lucky ducky! You even tried to draw a little duck.

Some notes were motivational: you're doing a GREAT job, baby!

Some notes reminded: you have a dentist appt @ 10!

Some notes were sweet: call me during your break, cutie, i miss your voice!

And others found on the bathroom mirror were playful: you look too good today, go change! A second note added: don't need anyone looking at your fine ass! A third: i'm the only one allowed to look #respectfully

Each and every note had a drawn heart, being saved to a hidden shoebox. He found notes in his usual coffee mug, reminding him you loved him. He found notes on his toothpaste tube, telling him he was doing a great job. Cereal boxes now promised Carmy they were proud of him, pastas told him to have a great day, and the light switches assured reminded him how special he was.

The microwave told him you felt blessed to be his and in his jacket pocket, he was told how lucky you are to love him. Some notes swore to him he was one of a kind, others explicitly detailed what parts of him you wanted in parts of you, and a few reminded him of important dates, appointments, deadlines, anniversaries, birthdays, etc..

Sometimes, he found little treats with these sticky notes. Like when you had to make brownies for your little sister's bake sale, you left him a Tupperware full with a hot pink note, labeled: for the love of my life!

And then... One morning, when you got up for work, Carmy was already gone for his day. You went through your normal routine, entering the kitchen with the intention of making a to-go cup of coffee, only to pause and grin when a neon green sticky note greeted you from the stovetop. Written in messy, fresh, black Sharpie was: got you on my mind. love you, be home @ 6 tonight!

Carmy drew own heart and you beamed at the reciprocation. You didn't mind the distance for now, knowing he was busy and it wouldn't last forever; but the fact that he could reassure you as much as you could him warmed your heart. You felt like the Grinch when his heart grew in size, just without the painful grunting. If anything, you felt euphoric from his little note - thinking it was reassuring to still communicate even when your schedules differed.

The day passed sluggishly - only because you were actually excited to go home. Ironically, your last client of the day didn't leave until a little later than scheduled, so, when you FINALLY got off work and made it home, Carmy had beaten you. When you got through the door, you were met with a heavenly aroma; using Gandalf's advice and following your nose to enter the kitchen.

You sighed dreamily when you came to a halt in the doorway, bottom lip trapped between your teeth to attempt and restrain your ecstatic grin. Carmy was shirtless at the stove, stirring a pasta dish to coat it in the sauce of his choice. "Hi, pretty peach," he beamed at you.

"Oh, I've missed this sight," you squealed, rushing to his side to throw your arms around his neck. "Hi, baby, hi, baby, hi, baby," you chanted between chaste kisses to his cheek.

"Someone missed me," he laughed, cheeks blooming a bright red - but not from the kitchen heat.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever, and you know I don't do well alone, I need attention," you teased with a pout, his arm slithering around your waist - but a crinkle noise caught your attention. "Woah, hey. Did you get a new tattoo?" You pondered, looking down at his arm that was protectively bandaged.

He smirked and held his arm out, "Wanna take the plastic off for me?"

"What'd you get?"

"Find out," he whispered, staring at you with his intense baby blue eyes; waiting as you calculated your next move. Slowly, you reached out and unwrapped the protective cling wrap, getting to the gauze, then slowly peeling that from his skin.

"Ohhh, my fucking God," you whispered.

"Like it?"

"Are these... My hearts?"

He nodded, "I got 6 of them from your notes tattooed. 'Cause we've been together six years. Figured, each year, I could add one - but you gotta draw it."

"You're ridiculous," you laughed, in minor disbelief. "What made you do this?"

He eased, "You. I've never felt so confident in my life before, and I know you're a huge part of that. It feels right, being with you feels right and I wanted to show you that I see and appreciate all you do." His tone softened, "I wouldn't be me without you, Peach."

"You'd still be Carmy."

"A totally different Carmy, though," he chuckled. "I actually like who I am with you, baby. But look here, I know it's been real hectic lately, sweet girl, with the restaurant, but it's not gonna be like this forever. We're makin' progress, we're gonna get this settled."

"I know," you assured, "'cause if anyone's gonna get this done, it's you. Just don't forget to breathe every now and then - you're drowning in this stress and I need you to stay afloat, Carm."

"I'm good, Peaches, got you on my team so I can't lose," he eased, tucking you into his chest for an embrace. After a minute and a tight squeeze, he sighed, pecked the crown of your head, then mumbled, "Why don't you go wash up? Dinner's almost ready."

You agreed, stealing one last (prolonged) kiss before scampering off to the bedroom. When you got there, you almost tripped when you came to a halt; laughing loudly as the entire bed was covered in an array of neon colored sticky notes. Until you got closer and realized each note detailed a different reason Carmy loved you; from the way you search for him in your sleep to how you resembled a Gremlin if not fed within certain hours. From how you weren't afraid to dress up for the Renaissance Festival to how you throw blankets in the dryer for 15 minutes before movie nights. In fact, "movie night" was on a single note, being a fond yet routine date. You read each note carefully, tears wanting to build but you refused to let them, yet it was difficult when this was the sweetest gesture you've ever known.

Even things you were insecure about, like dimples or weight or hair color, was highlighted as a reason Carmy loved you. He listed your authenticity, generosity, thoughtfulness, charisma, incredible brain but even bigger heart. He praised your wit, your humor; adored your sneezes, and looked forward to coming home every night because he knew he was coming home to you.

You've never felt so loved before, wondering if this was what Carmy felt each time he found one of your notes.

Movement caught your peripheral, and when you looked up, Carmy was leaning in the doorway of the bedroom; arms crossed and lips pulled in a small smirk. He didn't speak, he just stared at you. You were at a loss for words, opening and closing your mouth twice; holding most of the sticky notes in your hands, but then, you settled on telling him simply, "I love you so fucking much, Carmy."

Dinner might've allegedly burned that night, but so did your love and passion for one another. Even the smallest of gestures can go farther than we anticipate, and showing someone you care could be as simple as leaving them notes around the apartment you cohabitate in, on neon colored Post It's.

Wanna know the cool thing about adult relationships? You get to love your partner out loud; being unapologetic in how you emote, and in return, you're loved by them. Each person deserves to be loved in the way they want to be loved - but you know how fucking great it is when two lovers respond to the same language? What I mean is, it could be considered rare that you, who liked to leave notes, would meet and fall in love with someone who liked to collect and read those notes. Your love language was the same as Carmy's, part of the reason you both worked so well together - but also why one day, he'd add plenty more hand drawn hearts to the collection on his forearm.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

2K notes · View notes

targaryenrealnessdarling · 5 months

Text

Quid Pro Quo | Michael Gavey x fem!reader

Summary: After being ditched by her friend at the Trinity College Christmas Party, she finds herself enthralled with learning the language of Michael Gavey | Word Count: 3.8k~ | Warnings below the cut!

Part Two: Carpe Diem Part Three: Veni, Vidi, Vici

warnings: virgin michael, semi-public sexual conduct, oral sex (m receiving), heavy petting

If she has to listen to Professor Wardon swoon over Ancient Greek and how it ‘drove him to pursue his dreams in extending his passion to other students’, she thinks she might actually fall asleep.

She's in a good spot to do so, nestled between two other students, the one on her right seemingly just as bored as her, and conveniently hidden behind a tall, lanky first year, who sits straight, with his head perfectly obscuring hers as he fixes his posture regularly.

Several times throughout, she's checked her watch, and yet the second hand never seems to move an inch.

Professor Wardon is just about to go on a lovesick spiel about Homeric Greek when the lecture concludes with a heaved sigh from every student as they sling their hefty bags over their shoulders.

“Remember I want 2,500 words on Les Liaisons dangereuses in my pigeon hole by next Thursday, before your Christmas parties!”

“Oh joy,” she sighs with a grin to the girl walking shoulder to shoulder beside her as they leave, feeling noticeably lighter knowing that that's their last lecture before Christmas break.

“Christ, you're telling me. I can't be arsed to even right my own name at the moment, nevermind read 18th century fucking French.”

She gives a snort in reply, “Merry Christmas to us, eh? Should do what the French do and have a revolution or something.”

“Yeah, eat our lecturers or something.”

“Alright, I wouldn't go that far.”

“Anyway, I'm off to T Library, see ya, have a good Christmas and don't do anything I wouldn't!”

She waves her off as her friend disappears, the cold air of the outside nipping at her skin that manages to sneak beneath her coat.

Oxford University is not what she imagined at all. She came here very much feeling like an outsider, like there'd been some sort of paperwork mistake and it was supposed to be someone else in her place.

The imposter syndrome seemed difficult to shift, but she'd at least managed to make a couple of friends since starting in September.

Languages had always found her well, and seemingly the only thing she managed to actually understand. People were inconsistent, cruel and fickle. Languages, though they shifted and changed, were firmly rooted in reason and understanding.

As sad as it sounded, conjugating verbs, vowel shifts and rare dialects were the one thing she found herself itching to discover more about. The idea that there was more to uncover seemed exciting and scary at the same time.

And Oxford University was the best place she could be to do that.

All that said, her eagerness to get involved with her studies had left her social life with much to be desired.

In the first two weeks of university alone, she'd gained one friend and lost a boyfriend. And while they were drifting apart anyway, it was still a relatively large blow to her self-esteem and her confidence to actually get out there, socialise and make the most of her first year of freedom.

The only friends she'd made were those on her course. Priya, who'd just abandoned her to stick her nose in books about the Great Vowel Shift, and Anya, who…to be honest, rarely left her room. Seeming more like a ghost than anything else.

It was a wonder she was still a student, with how often she missed classes.

What Anya does do best, is manage to somehow rise out of her pit to drag her to Christmas parties that aren't even run by their college.

Which is why she finds herself somehow at Trinity College campus, where she eyes several scantily clad women wearing revealing Santa costumes adorned with itchy tinsel.

Anya is the sort of girl who, well, every girl kind of wants to be. So much so she sort of wonders why she hangs around with her. She's pretty, fit and fucking clever. Her only downfall is her taste in men, so often being Oxford pretty boys.

So it is absolutely no surprise at all, when two jägerbombs in, Anya has somehow slipped into the arms of one aforementioned Oxford pretty boy, seeming in every way a clone of the previous, with the exception of the way he pairs his Ayia Nappa top with his low rise jeans and the only effort to conform to theme, is a pair of plastic reindeer antlers on his head bobbling side to side.

She grimaces as she watches them suck each other's faces off in a dark corner of the room, ‘Stay Another Day’ by East 17 blaring with a cheap crackle through the speakers as she makes her way through the bodies to somewhere quiet.

She sighs, nursing the rum and coke Anya had sloppily poured her in one hand as she closes the door behind her, shutting out the drunken squeals and cheers for the peace of a quiet common room.

It's still decorated, she notes, but empty. Maybe she could lurk here until Anya is done, if she ever will be.

The deep clack of a pool ball being sucked into a socket makes her jump, realising perhaps that she was not actually alone, as she'd previously thought.

The cool light hung above the battered pool table illuminates his deep red jumper, and the first thing she sees is the way he leans on one leg, standing straight as if he was imitating the rigid pool cue leant before him. The yellow lined detailing around the cuffs highlights his small wrists and big hands that stretch from it as he rubs blue chalk onto the tip.

Her eyes trail up the back of his neck, past the lazy waves of dark blonde hair, clearly due a trim at some point, and to his face, even from this angle able to see how his features sit. With a sharp nose and jawline, and black skinny glasses perched above his cheekbones.

She almost laughs at the way he's almost as tall as the light that illuminates the table, half-thinking that she might never have seen such a strange and yet interesting looking guy.

“Didn't fancy the party?” she finally says, alerting him to her presence.

She doesn't quite expect the way the light bounces off his sharp features, sinking his blue eyes in shadow as his head turns to her with an expression of boredom.

“Not particularly, no.”

His voice is lighter than she thought it would be and part of her wonders if he's putting it on. He presses his glasses further up his nose before assessing his next shot, stalking around the table.

“Why's that?”

This time, when he answers, he doesn't look at her. He simply leans down, and aims.

“Not. Fucking. Invited,” he replies bitterly, missing a yellow, “that's why.”

Her fingertips moisten against the glass as the ice begins to melt, but she pays it no mind.

“So you're lurking about in here instead.”

He plays with the cue in one hand, barely sparing a second glance, a bitter, quiet laugh escaping him.

He misses another red before he heaves a sigh, straightening to look at her again.

“You here alone as well?” he asks dispassionately.

She smiles lazily and shrugs.

“My mate is…a bit preoccupied, if you know what I mean,” she replies, taking an awkward sip of the now watered down drink, “like you, I don't really think these are my thing either.”

He seems to consider her statement for a moment.

“Why come then?”

She shrugs again, “trying to be sociable.”

“With those vapid cunts? Good luck getting any intelligent conversation out of them.”

She watches as he picks up the blue chalk again, applying more when he doesn't even need it in sort of a nervous gesture, his blue eyes averted and pretending to assess his next move.

There's something about him. How judgemental he is and how he forms his words. Perhaps she hadn't expected this sort of guy to be so outwardly honest with his opinions, and for the most part, she can't say she disagrees with the message, just the way in which he said it.

“Can I play?” She asks, leaning over to put her drink down.

“What are you reading?” He asks so suddenly, and out of context, that she does a double take.

She raises her eyebrows, smiling, “Does my answer depend on if I get to play or not?”

There's no answer from him. Shocker of the century.

“Modern Languages.”

“Fucking hell,” he groans.

She's a bit too happy and dizzy on rum to get defensive.

“Is that one of those subjects that sounds way less interesting than it actually ends up being?”

She gives a breathy laugh, “just like languages.”

He hums, as if the answer didn't impress him, “more of a science and numbers man myself, obviously.”

For a moment, it's lost on her why it's obvious.

He takes a sip of his, no doubt, stale beer, wetting his lips after, “Your name is?”

She narrows her eyes teasingly, smiling as she leans against the table, “quid pro quo.”

She enjoys the brief confusion on his face, before he realises what she's said.

“Okay, okay, Michael.”

She smiles, “See? You know what that meant. Who says you're not a languages man?”

It's the first time he seems to duck his head, hiding a blush she's barely able to see.

“I don’t think the Ancient Roman idea of fair exchange warrants the title of ‘languages man’.”

The blue chalk comes off on his hands as he fiddles nervously with it.

“So, am I bestowed the privilege of playing?”

He raises his head, and she can tell he's trying his damndest to not let a little beer-induced smile pass his lips.

“I suppose I could allow you to embarrass yourself in front of me for a bit, if you insist. We'll have to share a cue though.”

She doesn't have the heart to tell him her uncle was a pool player, and so by extension, has played pool for most of her upbringing. Rather, he finds out himself when she pots three yellows in a row.

It's either the alcohol or pity that kicks in when she misses the fourth, holding the cue for him to take.

“You being good at pool wasn't on my bingo card,” he mutters with some nervous teasing in his voice.

They go back and forth for a bit, missing some, potting some, with interspersed conversation between.

“Thought you might have been a Norman-no -mates, like me,” he says quietly as he watches her assess her next shot. Bending to aim.

“You're not far off,” she replies, “first fortnight I was down a boyfriend. Since then, I've only been up two friends and one of them is in the other room having ditched me for the shag of a lifetime.”

She doesn't see it until after she takes the shot, the way his eyes flit back to hers quickly as she rights herself to stand.

Was he checking me out?

As if he was lagging, he only laughs now at what she's said.

“What about you?” She asks, “no girls, or boys, on the scene?”

He blushes a lot when she asks that. And she can't help the fluttering in her chest she feels that someone might find her attractive.

“Can’t say there is.”

She stands close, passing the cue to him, electricity warming her fingertips as she grazes his.

“And why not?”

He scoffs bitterly, “have you seen me?” he mutters, wandering around the table, suddenly unable to shake the feeling of her gaze, “Not too many girls out there looking for the stereotypical nerdy math boy, really.”

“Hm,” she hums, “how unfortunate for them.”

He sinks a red, picking at his red jumper.

“Yeah, they're clearly missing out, huh?”

The bitter and self-deprecating tone of his voice makes her heart sink a bit. He's not a bad looking guy, she thinks. His style, glasses, hair, she would almost say look actually quite cute.

Maybe that's the thing he doesn't like.

“No interest? Or is maths the only one for you?”

He misses the next shot and sighs, holding the cue for her to take, “clearly, the only one I need.”

She steps close to retrieve, taking her time, looking up at him as she does. At this proximity, Michael sucks in a breath quietly, his lips, which she can't say she'd noticed until right this moment, parting and his Adam's apple bobbing as his eyes flit rapidly down her.

A warmth swirls in her gut at that.

She circles the table, “what about in the past?”

He leans against the other side, his hand on the cushion, long fingers splayed on the green fabric. She has to shake her head to break her own trance.

“Can’t say my love life has exactly been a roaring success, honestly.”

The way he says it.

She wouldn't be surprised if he was…

Oh.

“So what? You're focussed on your studies?”

She misses. Too set on the conversation rather than the game.

He gives a mirthless laugh, “Sure.”

She rounds the table, holding the cue for him to take, but when he reaches for it, she pulls back with a smirk.

“So we've established you're not one for languages,” she starts, and Michael furrows his brows in confusion, “have you ever really asked for what you want? Ever?”

He seems to miss what she's trying to say.

“Have you been with a girl?”

At that, his eyes widen slightly, a blush crawling up his neck to the tips of his ears, cheeks near matching his shirt.

She knows she has her answer.

“Well…I…no, I haven't…”

At chest height, she can see the way his breathing elevates.

“And, hypothetically, if a girl expressed interest. What would you say?”

His lips part for a good few seconds before he gives a reply, “I’d…I um…I guess it depends who…”

It's like he's afraid she'll make fun of him for it.

“What about, if it was me?” She asks, her voice lowering as she reaches out to pick some lint off his jumper, like it's the most normal thing in the world. His body goes all rigid as she does.

This isn't normal in his world.

Michael swallows thickly, “you're not taking the Mick out of me, are you?”

She shakes her head, “I just want you to feel comfortable asking for what you want.”

For someone who had so often thought about it, now when faced with the situation, he feels as if he doesn't know what to do or say.

She's still stood with the cue in one hand, close enough so that when she shifts her weight from foot to foot, her knee grazes his leg. It's interesting to watch him think so deeply about it. Convinced he's probably never thought of anything so much in his life.

“What if what I want is…you?”

The tension deepens like the tone and volume of his voice. And without effort, a smile finds its way to her face when she looks at his expression. He's frozen stiff, for once, not knowing what to say.

So nothing shocks her more when he grabs the pool cue as a means of pulling her to him, and he has to duck considerably to press his lips clumsily to hers. He's eager, that much is true, but it's clear he's inexperienced. But instead of causing discomfort, she thinks it's quite endearing.

The pool cue clangs to the floor as she braces her hands on his shoulders and chest, guiding his lips with her own in a slower, more careful movement. She feels the edge of the pool table bite into her lower back when he presses her against it, clearly excited, if the hardness that's flush to her stomach is anything to go by.

The hands she had been staring at not half an hour ago are bruising as they trace her waist and hips, with a grip tight enough to tell her exactly how much he's enjoying the experience.

For a moment, they're not in a common room alone, against a pool table, with ‘Cheetah-licious Christmas’ playing in the room over, the bass of which rumbles through the floor and into their chests.

The kiss lasts a long while, and she has a feeling he wants to savour it as if it's the last time he will ever be able to do it.

One of her hands snakes its way to the back of his head, fingers gripping at his hair to pull him closer as either of them tilt to aid more contact between them. And at the little amount of tugging, Michael whines into her mouth, prompting him to pull away.

He looks halfway between mortified and pleased, his glasses having skewed to one side with the eagerness of what they'd done. And she laughs a bit, reaching up to fix them, which seems to make the mortification fade somewhat from his face.

Michael looks down between them, where his obvious erection is pressed to her, and pulls away slightly with a scarlet blush.

“Shit - sorry-”

“It's fine,” she reassures, “no need to be embarrassed.”

The words alone would be enough, if her hand hadn't snaked between their bodies to brush her palm over him. And if it were possible, his flush spreads to his neck, words failing him once more.

Her eyes flicker up to his, their lips all kiss-bruised and swollen.

“If you don't want to-”

“No, no, I want to…” he says, immediately embarrassed about how quick it was.

She smiles, one hand palming him through his jeans and the other trailing up his chest, “Sit down.”

He backs up to sit on a nearby sofa, watching with a kind of adoration as she makes space between his legs, her eyes glimmering at him as she slowly undoes his belt.

“If at any time, you need to stop, tell me.”

He gives a nervous laugh, his stomach muscles tightening, wondering probably if this is really happening to him, “Not sure I will want to…”

She smiles reassuringly, watching as his lips part as she palms him through his boxers, trying to suppress how impressed she is with his size.

It's always the skinny white guys.

“Well, the offer's there.” She smirks, pulling him from his boxers, Michael gives a suffered breath, feeling her touch on him and also her breath so close. He almost feels dizzy. The thought of this happening in this situation, with a party going on next door, is dangerous and exciting in equal measure.

She knows he has very limited experience, so decides not to tease him too much.

Michael gasps softly as she licks at the base of him, drawing a wet line with her tongue along the vein underneath, all the way to the tip. She concentrates her efforts slightly on the sensitive spot there before closing her mouth over the head of his cock, sucking gently.

She feels the way his thighs tense, and the blue disappearing as he closes his eyes. His fists are tight beside him, knuckles white, like he doesn't know if he should touch her or not. All he knows right now is that this feeling is brand new, and the sensation is so much already.

She pulls herself from him to run her tongue over his length, one hand moving to his hand, to encourage him. His blue eyes crack open just a bit, to understand what she's trying to tell him.

And she fights the urge to smile as his longer fingers swipe across her temple into her hair, his touch tender, soft and unsure as he holds her by it.

Her lips wrap around him once more, pushing him further into her mouth, taking him steadily and slowly at first. Michael's hips move barely, chasing the friction that he's getting on his cock when she bobs her head on him and hollows her cheeks.

He watches with parted lips and warm cheeks, moving her hair away so he can watch himself disappear into her mouth over and over. Her hand massages the rest of him, giving him two unique sensations in one, something that earns her a deep, throaty moan.

When her eyes open to look at him, he thinks his heart stops in his chest for a split second. He closes his eyes, not able to bear the way she looks with his cock in her mouth if she looks right at him, feeling that if he did any longer he wouldn't last.

The sounds he emits don't stop there as she increases her pace on him, pressing her tongue to the underside of him and taking him deeper into her throat, humming around him at the heady scent of his skin.

It's only when she takes him as far as he will go, working hard to control her gag reflex that he gives the first genuine buck of his hips, tightening in her hair and a far-too-loud moan. If anyone in the next room were quiet and paying attention, they'd likely know exactly what was going on.

“Fuck-”

It only serves to spur her on as she pulls back, moving in a more steady, quick rhythm, that she is sure Michael is loving judging by the rate of his moans and the way he chokes out his words.

His stomach clenches and unclenches, his high creeping up on him as her mouth tightens around his length.

“Shit - you need to - I'm gonna -” he chokes, weakly tugging her hair in an effort to pull her mouth off him before he cums.

If she didn't have his cock in her mouth she'd smile.

Her hand squeezes the base of him, and Michael throws his head back slightly, a long shuddered and choked moan reverberating through his chest. She swears she feels his thighs shake as she stills, warm ropes of his cum taste musky at the back of her throat.

His loud moan is followed quickly by more softer ones as her throat contracts to swallow as much as she can, briefly increasing the tension and friction around his sensitive length.

When she pulls off him with a pleased sigh, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Michael sits up slightly, having to gather his breath.

“Fucking hell…”

She takes it as a compliment and rises to her feet, her hands smoothing her skirt back down.

And she squeaks in delight as Michael quickly tucks himself away, barely doing up his jeans buttons before backing her up to the pool table again, kissing her fervently.

“What about you…do I…” he starts when he breaks away, panting softly. She smiles at the notion but shakes her head. This experience was for him alone.

“Not right now, don't feel inclined to,” she reassured, her hands on his chest, feeling the way his heart is beating rapidly beneath it.

“Right now?” he asks with a quiet, unsure tone, “does that mean…there's gonna be a next time?”

His tone is careful, and yet, she is able to detect something like desire there. An excitement for more, without seeming too eager so that he's not let down if she says no. Something that makes it clear he is 100% on board.

She bites back a grin.

“Quid Pro Quo, Michael.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorsky @fan-goddess

#michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x you #michael gavey x y/n #michael gavey x oc #michael gavey fanfic #michael gabey fanfiction #michael gavey fic #michael gavey smut #michael gavey x female reader #michael gabey x fem!reader #saltburn fanfiction #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #saltburn fic #michael gavey saltburn

1K notes · View notes

matchascara · 4 months

Note

HI how was your new year?? 🥰 i hope u had a great time <33

this is a little specific but can i please have cock sucking yan mean dom scara?? 🥺 🥺 im thinking of a scene where hes had a really tiring day or hes just casually chilling around and we give him the sloppiest, obliterating, heaven-scent gawk gawk 3000 of his life 🤤 andand he'll praise us and say somth like "whats the occasion?" and we're jyst "nothing just felt like gagging on ur pretty cock <33" plspls and thank u!! 🙏🏻🙏🏻

my new years was great!! thank you for the request! i tried, it's been a while since i've written anything, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless! <3 also, thank you guys for 1k followers!!

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!!

IN WHICH: scara's a popular streamer, so much so that he can't even give you a flicker of attention. when you catch him live one day, you decide to take matters into your own hands...

(not proofread)

scara was a popular streamer, his gaming skills, commentary, and his cocky, rude personality followed by his charming looks, brought him only the highest of attention. he's an internet celebrity, no doubt about that, so of course he's going to receive invasive fangirls that want nothing more than his attention, even if it's just him respond to their supa's with a snarky remark.

and as his girlfriend, you found yourself in a one-sided battle for his attention with said girls, even though they had absolutely no chance with him.

still, you couldn't help but feel as though they were the ones winning.

and that really bothered you. not only did you guys have to keep your relationship a secret from the public, but now he doesn't even look twice at you when you go out of your way to spend all day getting ready, just for at least some validation that he's still into you.

scara was in his streaming room, the light of his pc screens and keyboard being the only light illuminating this darkened room.

"he must not be using a webcam today." you thought to yourself as you peaked through the door.

scara, being the competitive guy he is, was way too focused on winning the game to even notice when you entered the room, making sure to quietly close the door behind you.

nor did he notice when you walked up behind him, reading all the desperate girls in his chat, increasing your jealousy ten fold.

you loosely wrapped your arms around him, causing him to flinch slightly. he muted his stream.

"get out." he didn't look up from his screen.

"i miss you..."

"i'm busy, you're gonna get me in trouble. so leave. i'll hang out with you when i'm done."

that was a lie. but you couldn't even respond, he unmuted his stream right away, made up a random excuse to his confused chat, and kept playing, as if you weren't even there.

but you weren't giving up, you had to win this one-sided battle, for the sake of your pride, and your man.

slowly kneeling down, you crawled underneath his desk, your hands trailing up, and down along his thighs as you slightly opened his legs.

scara stiffened at your touch, but ignored you nonetheless.

this only increased your need for him. you were gonna make him pay attention to you, and finally turn that damn stream off for good.

your hands traveled further up his thighs until they found themselves rested upon his bulge within his pants.

scara was in a heated match, he stopped his commentary for a moment as he bit his bottom lip softly, in a weak attempt at ignoring you once more.

noticing his reaction, you slowly slid your hand up and down that area through his pants, his cock now throbbing for more of your touch.

but he couldn't pause the game, or mute the stream yet. it would be too suspicious.

he took a deep breath before he looked down and gave you a glance of annoyance. you grinned and put your pinter finger over your lips in reply, signaling for him to keep quiet.

he clicked his tongue, irritated, but clearly turned on.

your hands slid underneath his the waistline of his sweatpants, revealing his full length of his hardened cock.

you licked your lips in anticipation, whilst scara's leg shook with anxiety.

"just relax." you said in a quiet, soft whisper.

before he knew it, your tongue slid across his shaft, making its way up, where your tongue circled around his pink tip.

his breath hitched. he missed a headshot.

"fuck." his tone was more breathy than usual.

your soft tongue kept sliding up and down against his shaft, getting it as wet as possible before you kissed his tip, before finally putting his length into your mouth.

he instantly moved his mic away from him and a soft, breathy moan escaped his lips, his head fell backward and he put his hand over his mouth.

his eyes being closed for a split second was enough to get him killed in the game, ending his match. his chat spammed, filled with confusion and suspicion.

you moved your head up and down as he let his cock shamelessly filll your mouth, using your hand to help what you couldn't fit in your mouth. your pace started off slow, and sensual.

he could handle that.

he took a few more deep breaths and gathered himself, going back to his mic.

"my bad, i had to do something--oooh"

your head bobbed faster up and down as you went down on him. your mouth and hand moving in a rhythm that sent a chill of pleasure down his spine.

he couldn't ignore this, he didn't even try to. he couldn't even get any words out to make up an excuse to his chat. his finger instantly hit the mute button as his hand took a handful of your hair, forcing you to take in more of his throbbing shaft.

he leaned back in his chair, moving you up and down his cock forcefully. his moans tuned from low, and deep to sharp, and high-pitched.

"fuck yeah...like that. just like that." his voice deep, raspy and completely breathless.

you kept going, not letting up. you could feel your eyes watering slightly as his length hit deep within your throat, causing you to almost gag slightly. but you didn't let up, your hand moving from his cock to the sides of his hips, your fingers digging deep into his skin as he face fucked you relentlessly.

his mouth hung agape, as he looked down at you, his half-lidded eyes struggling to stay open.

for the first time in a while, he wanted to see you. he paid attention to you.

what was he supposed to be doing right now? he forgot.

"ah- so good...fuck--- i'm so--"

his legs which shook with anxiety now shook with pleasure, and he couldn't get them to stop. his grip on your hair only tightened, you could feel his cock twitch in your mouth.

his harmonic moans sent a strike of pleasure through you, causing the area between your thighs to start aching.

"don't spit." he ordered.

scara failed at keeping his fingers interlocked with your hair for much longer as he leaned back in his chair, releasing a loud, sudden groan of your name. his white fluid filling up your mouth.

he stayed leaned back in his chair, his chest rising up and down heavily as his breath hitched with every exhale.

you kissed his tip and looked up at him with a grin of amusement as you licked your lips.

after a short while, scara cupped your chin firmly, pulling your face up to his level as he stared deeply into your eyes with a burning desire.

"what's the occasion? don't tell me you wanted my attention this bad..." he said with an cocky scoff.

leaning your face closer to his, you spoke. "nothing..."

you sat in a straddled position on his lap, pressing your body intimately against his, your voice becoming soft and sensual.

"i just missed gagging on my boyfriends pretty cock..."

#scaramouche x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #scaramouche #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #scara x reader #scara x you #genshin imagines #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer smut

886 notes · View notes

fureliselost · 6 months

Text

Dpxdc twin au in which Danny and Damian are fraternal twins

It's a classic "the Fentons misunderstood Danny's name and registered him as Daniel" but they accidentally transe Danny's gender and Danny never corrects them. Strangely, Danny likes it.

Eventually, the Fentons figure out, but Danny says he doesn't mind and they go with it.

(note: In this Danny is kinda nb/transmasc/gender weird, gender is neutral to him and he's fine with being called whatever, although male pronouns are the ones he uses the most)

Cut to Danny being dragged by Vlad to a gala (Vlad can be good but annoying in this idc) and Vlad is proudly displaying his "godson".

Duke: Hey, Damian, did you see the kid Vlad Masters brought?

Damian: I thought father said he wouldn't go into business with Masters.

Duke: He still attends for appearances. (Shrugs) Anyway, got any twins you didn't tell us about?

Damian: Yes.

Duke: 'Cause that guy looks just like—what?

Damian: I said I have a twin you don't know about.

Damian explains to the batclan that Danny was sent on a mission (as punishment) to keep track of the Fentons, since they studied "Lazarus Water". And then they forgot about it. The last time Damian heard of Danny was right before the accident.

On Danny's side, he knows Damian will be there before he goes — he's kept track of his twin's public persona (and vigilante life). He'd been doing a great job of not interacting and keeping from being spotted, as was protocol for if two agents ended up on the same field — he knew Damian wasn't an agent anymore, but assumed the protocol still applied. He knew, the moment Duke Thomas spoke to him and then went straight toward Damian, that he'd failed that protocol.

Now, Damian was trying to convince him to leave the League.

"Daniyah, there is another way."

"I know there is another way," Danny replied, "Except I told you about it for years and you never listened." During the years away from his family, Danny had missed them, his memory softened the feeling of anger at the way his twin always moulded his ideals to whoever ruled him. "We aren't supposed to be speaking, I'm still an agent, I'm breaking protocol by being here."

They'd sneaked off to a room along with Damian's siblings, who watched attently and and silently. "You don't have to be an agent anymore."

"Yes, I do." Danny spat, "You don't seem to have realized, but some of us don't have the privilege of being the favorite. I never had the privilege of being saved."

Damian scowled, "Being saved is not a privilege."

"It isn't," Danny agreed, "You're just forgetting that when you got freedom in reward, I got sent on a mission as punishment. You're still free and I'm still being punished, so I'm not sure you understand exactly what my position is." He moved to leave, "I'm not a damsel in distress, and I don't need your furry parade to save me."

#dp #eli rants #eli fics #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc

1K notes · View notes

ellecdc · 2 months

Text

A Man With a Plan.6

prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU

CW: swearing, mostly fluff, funny moments with friends, no plot just vibes [crystal dialogue prompt courtesy of keke the unstablereader 🫶]

Though Remus was undoubtedly relieved that you a) knew of his affliction, and b) forgave him for his arseholery, he was admittedly a little more than slightly disappointed that very little had changed between the two of you.

Which made no sense on account of the fact that he never planned on anything changing between the two of you to begin with; he was discontent, nevertheless.

“Oh, good, Y/N’s here. Listen, how the hell do I stop the nargles from stealing my things?” James shouted as you approached the table. You looked like you had perhaps only been prepared to say hello and carry on, to which James was having none of it and nearly bodily forced you onto the bench next to him.

“Hello, Jamie. Do you have your cranberry seed oil infused corks?” You asked as you obediently took your seat.

James scoffed and pulled out a lanyard from under his uniform which, lo and behold, had a cork attached to it smelling very much like cranberry seed oil. “I literally never go anywhere without it.” He said as if you had asked a particularly ridiculous question.

You hummed and Remus watched a divot appear between your eyebrows as you scrutinized what Remus assumed was James’ aura or some other such entity. “Well, I don’t see any around you, James. What makes you think you have a nargle problem?”

James groaned dejectedly and turned back towards his lunch. “All of my things are missing! It started around the time you went missing.” James stressed, still not having completely forgiven you for your disappearance at the last full moon. “It was my school tie, and some socks, a quill set my mom got me at the start of school, and now I can’t find my herbology textbook!”

You hummed again and seemed to look around the table as if you’d somehow find his belongings there. “Perhaps you should ask your friend Peter.”

Remus heard Peter choke on his pumpkin juice as James, Sirius, and Remus all turned to look at him.

“Uh...haha, so, funny thing...” He started, cut off by an indignant squawk from James.

“You were stealing my stuff!? Why!?” He cried.

Peter’s cheeks pinked though a pleased smile graced his lips. “You were so worried about Y/N being missing and the nargles taking your things. I thought a funny prank would lighten the mood; I wouldn’t get a chance like that again!” He defended himself.

“You are so dead.” James muttered as Peter (wisely) took off out of the Great Hall with James hot on his heels.

“Alright Y/N.” Sirius started, throwing an arm over your shoulders. “You’ve gotta tell me; how’d you know it was Petey boy?”

A shy sort of pride painted your features and Remus thought it was the most beautiful you ever looked. “Wrackspurts.”

Sirius’ smile fell slightly, but the amusement never left his eyes. “Wrackspurts?”

You nodded in agreement. “Mhm. His head was full of them.” You said simply as you took a piece of cut strawberry from James’ abandoned plate and popped it in your mouth.

Sirius nodded with a look on his face that seemed to say ‘fair enough’. “And how’d you know about this one?” He asked, motioning towards Remus with his head.

“About his affliction, or about his soulmate bond?” You asked as if you were simply talking about the weather.

Sirius cocked his head as he considered you. “Both.”

“His aura...or I suppose Moony’s aura.”

Remus felt his eyebrows recede into his hair line. “Moony has an aura?” He asked you.

You nodded in the affirmative. “I’m assuming you’re right-handed?”

Remus nodded numbly.

“Most of the lunar cycle, Moony’s aura sits around your left shoulder. As the cycle moves closer to the full, he resides on your right. Also, sometimes when I’m near, he tries to come closer. Would you say that’s true?” Your serene tone did nothing to calm the racing of his heart.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Sirius said, interrupting Remus’ internal struggle. “There really was nothing you could do to hide from this witch, huh Moons?”

Remus chuckled self-deprecatingly and looked down into his lap in a little bit of shame. Your smile never faltered, however.

Peter and James returned then; James with a self-satisfied grin on his face, and Peter with his hair, shirt collar, and tie in disarray.

“What’s so funny?” James asked as he sat beside you, smacking a platonic kiss to your cheek as he winked over at Lily from her spot further down the table, whose face turned a shade of red rivaling her hair at having been caught watching James.

“Remus and his last two braincells trying to keep Y/N away from him.” Sirius snickered. Remus kicked at him under the table which caused you to jump. He apparently had missed his mark and had kicked your shin by accident.

“Fuckin’ hells, dove. I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Oh my gods...”

Sirius barked another laugh as Peter whispered a quiet ‘dove?’

“Oi! You really have lost your gobstones! Can’t believe Moony’s the dumbest one out of all of us now.” James said as he checked your shin for injury under the table.

“Remus isn’t dumb.” You defended the dumb bastard.

“Well, you can’t say he’s very smart here, dollface.” Sirius conceded.

You hummed and shooed James away from your leg. “Wisdom was chasing him; Remus was just always faster.”

This time, poor Pete lost his pumpkin juice completely as he sputtered mid-sip. You didn’t even seem to realize you’d said something particularly funny (or devastating) as James nearly fell off the bench in a fit of laughter and Sirius pulled you into his side.

“Oh, for the love of Merlin. Remus, please, can we keep her!?” He said in between bouts of laughter, wiping away a mirthful tear from under his eye.

Remus had no objections.

What Remus hadn’t agreed to was this.

Remus understood that allowing Moony (and...himself) to keep you around meant that he would ultimately have to share you. He knew that he’d have to share you with James, he’d have to (rather unfortunately) share you with Regulus, he’d have to share you with Pete and Sirius who seemed just as enamored with you, and he’d likely eventually have to share you with Lily, Marlene, Mary, and the rest of his friend group.

He was however not in the slightest prepared to have to share you with the likes of Barty Crouch Junior.

Remus had, quite happily, found you studying in the library alone and asked politely if he could join you at your table. The two of you had been studying in companionable silence when Regulus showed up. No matter, Regulus was quiet and diligent in his schoolwork.

Then, Sirius had shown up perturbed that his baby brother and his best mate were hanging out (to which both Regulus and Remus vehemently denied, seeing as they were both here studying with you, not each other), and insisted he be involved. Though Sirius struggled with the whole sitting-still-and-quietly thing, he more or less managed to join the three of you without much fuss.

But then James showed up, which sparked a long and arduous debate between he and Regulus regarding which entity was worse – wrackspurts or nargles – to which you weren’t even a part of save for each of them calling to you in need of an explanation every so often. You would look up from your book and answer them politely before returning to your schoolwork as if you weren’t surrounded by complete idiots.

Remus was lovestruck.

And then Barty showed up.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” Crouch screeched as he ran through the library completely ignoring the shushing from other students and string of curse words following him from the crotchety librarian.

“Hello, Bartemus.” You greeted the banshee serenely.

“Quickly, darling.” He started before promptly dumping a large sack of tumbled rocks and gems in front of you.

“Where’d you get all of these?” Regulus asked incredulously, reaching to pluck a small stone that had rolled over to his open book.

“Never you mind that!” Barty shouted as he swatted his hand away. “Y/N - light of my life, apple of my eye - which of these crystals will help me piss of my dad the most?!”

Once again appearing completely unperturbed by the general chaos around you, you perused the crystals set before you.

“Well, Carnelian can invoke passion.” You said as you plucked a red stone from the pile. “Garnet can invoke intense emotions: jealousy, anger, fear. I recommend pairing it with gold – maybe place it in a gold setting for a necklace or something similar. Dravite will bring up unresolved emotions...” And soon, two red stones and a brown stone sat in your palm as you held them before Barty.

“Pfft, figures.” Barty grumbled. “Red and gold never fail to piss me off either.” He sneered, looking pointedly at the three Gryffindor’s seated at your table. Remus was not necessarily proud of the low growl that the comment elicited from him, but he was proud of the restraint he showed when Moony was screaming in his head to tear the fuckers head clean off his scrawny body.

“Bartemus.” You chided gently, looking up at Barty standing above you like a parent might look at a particularly troublesome child: full of love.

Remus hated it.

“Sorry my sweets.” Barty cooed at you and ran a finger along your cheekbone.

Remus hated that more.

“Mr. Crouch!” The librarian called, finally having caught up to her problem student.

“Well, I must be off.” Barty called casually as if it was completely of his own volition that he now vacate the premises. “Keep the rest, beautiful angel face. Much love!”

And he was gone.

Thank Merlin.

“The friends you keep.” James muttered as he shook his head in disappointment as if he wasn’t one of said friends you keep.

“Oh, Bartemus is not so bad. Perhaps just a little misunderstood, and a little more than maniacal.” You put simply.

James was shushed loudly by the librarian for his laughter.

“I’ll go check on him.” Regulus said as he stood. He barely spared the Gryffindors a glance as he nodded politely at you. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

“Goodbye Regulus.” You sang to him, smiling brightly like he had just been anything more than sort of polite to you.

Remus once again figured that was as much affection as Regulus could ever show.

“You boys are welcome to help yourselves to the crystals. It’s a wonderful idea to take the ones that speak most to you.”

James exclaimed gleefully as he started to browse the many stones in front of you. Sirius’ face piqued in interest as he quickly plucked the most sparkly stone on the table.

“Jamie, you should bring this one to Lily.” You said as you handed him a small, slightly translucent pink stone. James didn’t bother asking questions such as ‘why?’ or ‘what is it?’ or even ‘should I be worried?’ before he accepted it, punctuating his ‘thanks angel’ with a kiss to your hair before he was racing out of the library.

“What stone was that?” Remus asked, unable to quell his curiosity.

“Rose quartz.” You responded simply.

“What’s it do?” Sirius asked.

Your mouth quirked in thought. “Stones don’t really do anything. They just encourage what’s already possible.”

Sirius rolled his eyes earning him a defensive kick in the shin from Remus.

“What does rose quartz encourage, dove?” Remus placated.

“Love and affection.”

Remus nodded and watched as Sirius pocketed two more shiny and sparkly stones before his expression was painted with mischief. “Say, Y/N. What crystals should our dear Moony here have?”

Remus couldn’t even bother shooting his mate an unimpressed glare when your face picked up excitedly and you began sifting through the stones. He watched just as animatedly.

After a few moments, you proudly displayed a small palmful of stones.

Remus placed his hand palm up beside your much smaller one and relished in the intimacy of you gently transferring the stones into his palm; your hands gently brushing in the action.

“What are those stones?” Sirius asked curiously.

Remus swore some bashfulness painted your features as you pointed the stones out in Remus’ palm. He was thankful for the continued contact as you explained them all.

“This is amethyst, which supports calmness; rids the mind of negative thoughts, and promotes dreamless and restful sleep.” You explained, causing Remus to nod his head. That could be helpful.“This is obsidian which helps one process their emotions.” That one earned a snort of laughter from Sirius. “Jasper is supposed to provide support during stressful times. This is moonstone which...well...I suppose that’s self-explanatory.”

Remus hummed but couldn’t help but notice you failed to discuss the last stone sitting in his palm. He wasn’t going to push it, however.

“And the pink one?” Sirius asked sharing no such qualms, lips quirked in a smirk and eyes full of mirth.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, clearly feeling slightly self-conscious, but explained it nonetheless. “Rose quartz to encourage love and trust.”

Remus would usually consider himself a generally skeptical person: but you may have just converted him.

taglist: @hanniejji, @y0urm0m12, @c0nsc10usworld, @aphrcdites, @starsval, @thepunisherfrankcastle, @anuncalledbridge, @unstablereader, @rai-strangebr, @klazina-couch-potato, @cancelledkaley, @fandom-crashlanding, @ttulipwritezz, @boo8008, @daisiesformylove, @frostooo, @myriadmoons, @aremuslupinsimp, @simars3, @stargurl99, @dreamingofts18, @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface, @agent-tempest, @xxrougefangxx, @serenadingtigers, @adhxmoony, @hufflepufffangirlqueen, @thebiggestnaturaldisaster, @urmomw4ntsme, @b4tm4nn, @jamieolivia27, @stqrgirlies-blog, @loving-and-dreaming

661 notes · View notes

luna0713hunter · 8 months

Text

Late night talk

Zoro Roronoa x reader

Summary : late night at Going Merry always makes you feel lonely. Fortunately,your new friend and crew mate is there to keep you company.

Warnings : slightly suggestive (?), mutual pinning and kissing!

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

Nights at Going Merry,are hard to spend alone.

The feeling of gentle waves hitting the wooden surface,the cool breeze giving you a slight shiver as you lean against the railing and rest your head on your folded arms;makes you feel slightly lonely.

Maybe its because you've just recently joined the StrawHats crew;away from your hometown where you spent all your life in. You loved your family and friends,but you just couldn't let this opportunity slide. Not when Luffy extended his hand to you,and treated you like family, like someone who was talented and worth giving a chance.

And you wouldn't let go of that hand. No.

So you joined the StrawHats,in hopes of finding your own meaning of life, and help Luffy and everyone else to the journey of One Piece.

But still, everything was fairly new to you. Spending all your time on a ship with nothing but deep blue around you,with the company of people you just recently met;your captain a sweet guy,but kinda loud. Ussop the same as Luffy. Nami a great girl, but you were kinda shy around her. The new cook,Sanji,the sweetest guy but he was always busy in the kitchen where you didnt even dare to step a foot in. And your last Crew mate-

"what're you doing up so late?"

Zoro Roronoa

The guy you've been tiptoeing around since the very first second you laid your eyes on him. To say you had a crush was an understatement;you were hopelessly in love with the swordsman.

You give him a sheepish smile as you try to look anywhere expect his eyes.

"i- uh, couldn't sleep?"

Zoro merely stares at you before slowly making his way towards where you're standing. There's a bottle of wine in his hand as he adjusts his three swords on his hip and leans against the railing as well. He raises the bottle to his lips and glances at you from the corner of his eye.

"you want some?"

When you shake your head,he only shrugs.

"more for me."

he starts drinking,and you watch as his Adam's apple bob,you immediately look the other way when your heartbeat rises.

There was a damn reason as why you kept avoiding being alone with Zoro in the first place.

You couldn't keep the heat from spreading across your cheeks and neck;and your heart seemingly beating out of your chest.

it was no secret that Zoro wasnt a huge fan of talking either. The number of time where you managed to hold a conversation with the guy without him dozing off, barely reached five fingers. And your massive crush didn't help.

So you just stood there silently, listening to the sound of the ocean and Zoro downing the bottle of wine. The silence was so uncomfortable,you could feel the awkwardness in the air.

You just prayed to gods that Zoro would start a conversation.

"so,what kept you awake tonight?"

And gods seem to have nothing better to do tonight.

You dangle your arm from the side of the ship; watching as small droplets of water slightly soaking your fingers.

"i guess...i just miss my hometown."

At that,Zoro raises a neatly trimmed eyebrow ,and again,offers you the almost empty bottle of wine. At that,you let out a small giggle,cheeks flushing because he looks absolutely adorable.

"i dont wanna drink!"

"But you said you miss your hometown. That sounds like a good enough reason for a drink to me."

You merely shrug and grin at him

"guess im not as alcoholic as you are,oh the greatest swordsman alive."

Zoro rolls his eyes at you,and empties the rest of the wine before throwing the bottle in the ocean. You watch as it vanishes in the dark night,before a faint SPLASH is heard when it hits the water down below.

"Sanji's gonna be mad at you. You know he hates throwing trash in the ocean."

"you have any more trash on you then?"

And you laugh, carefree and happy. For a moment there,you seem to forget how lonely you felt not too long ago.

Because thats how Zoro was;he was a quiet man,but had the biggest heart you knew. He would always stay at the corner,but never once taking his eyes off of his friends.

And you were so damn lucky to have him by your side.

You gently bump your shoulder to his; slowly moving closer to his side.

"so why were you awake?"

He spares you a glance before look at another side.

"no reason."

"Zoro, c'mon. You take every chance you get to take a nap. You cant be awake for no reason."

You hear him huff annoyingly at you;the sound making you grin winder. And you do the best thing you know:

Annoy the shit out of him

You start with poking his bicep;trying not to drool at the way his muscles tense under your touch,before moving up to his cheek and increase the speek of your poking.

But you could only go for long,before suddenly Zoro's grabbing at your wrist,and with a smooth move pulls you toward him.

Where your faces are inches away,and you can feel his breath fanning on your skin

You swallow loudly, trying to pull back and put some distance between yourselves,but he holds on tight;not too tight to hurt,but enough to keep you in your place. He moves his face impossibly closer,and his warm lips brush against your heated cheeks.

"you dont wanna mess with me," he murmurs;his voice raw with something you can't put a finger on, "I'm a dangerous guy."

Maybe its the adrenaline in your veins,or maybe its because its late at night and nights always made you bolder. So you turn your head slightly so your nose in brushing against his cheekbone,and catch his eyes.

"and what if i like to play with danger?"

Zoro lets out a low chuckle;his eyes shifting to your lips and his hand slowly resting on your hip

"Then dont say i didnt warn ya."

And then his lips are on yours.

Your eyes flutter shut as he pulls you close;your hands finding their ways to his hard chest,and then around his neck to pull him in. Zoro lets out a groan,and his hold on you tightens more.

With one hand resting on your hip and the other traveling up and down your spine,he pulls away to let you breath for only a second before diving back in.

Because Zoro was always drunk,but your lips might be his favorite thing to get drunk on from now on

You dont know how much time has passes before you pull away;both of you panting heavily and Zoro places small kisses on your cheeks and temples.

"you didnt answer the question, y'know."

You feel him pause against your skin and you grin.

"what question?"

"why were you awake?"

Zoro groans but when you tug at his hair,he just hides his face in your neck and when he speaks next,you feel his lips touching your sensitive skin.

"saw you space out alot at dinner and then you didnt go to sleep. Didnt want to leave ya alone."

With the confession,your heart flutters and butterflies fill your stomach. You card your fingers through his green locks and move his face so you can plant a loving kiss on his lips.

"thank you,Zoro."

"the pleasure is all mine."

And when he kisses you next,its filled with laughter and happiness.

Nights at Going Merry,are hard to spend alone.

But when you kiss Zoro until the sunrise,you cant help but wish for it to last longer.

If it meant to spend it with your love, you'll gladly wait for skies to turn dark.

#zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #opla x reader #opla zoro x reader #one piece live action x reader

2K notes · View notes

skipper1331 · 30 days

Text

Secret (3) // Alexia Putellas

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 |

You woke up with a pounding in your head, the alcohol showing its aftereffects.

This wasn’t your bedroom… but why was it so familiar? When you slowly sat up, you tried to orientate yourself, only the few rays of sunlight illuminating the room. Angry grumbles filled the room as you did so - that‘s when it hit you.

Alexia,

the woman who grumbled furiously in her sleep when you left her touch. The person who hated it when she couldn’t have at least one arm around you while sleeping - "I need to protect you."

And indeed you were right, Ale was peacefully sleeping next to you, hidden under the duvet, soft snores escaping her mouth.

You looked down your body, you were naked and littered in hickeys - Alexia had done a great job in marking you, her possessiveness apparently taking over.

How did this happen…?

Pulling the duvet back up to cover your exposed body, your eyes fell once again on the sleeping beauty.

You knew you should leave before she woke up, but you couldn't. You were under her spell - you had to stay, at least for a few more minutes. She looked so peaceful, so relaxed.

Your broken heart was healing by just looking at her - you knew it was wrong but what your mind said and heart felt were different pair of shoes.

After a good 10 minutes you were finally able to tear yourself away as you gathered your clothes from the floor and headed out of the bedroom, putting on your clothes.

You couldn’t leave yet though, knowing that her head would hurt as much as yours did at the moment. so you walked into the kitchen, pouring a glass of water, made a sandwich and got some painkillers against the headache - not for yourself but for Alexia.

With breakfast and pills in your hand, you walked back into her bedroom as quietly as possible. You put it down on her nightstand, intending to leave the room when the midfielder turned around, her hand reaching for you.

You froze.

"5 more minutes amor" she mumbled with her eyes closed, "por favor"

Not knowing what to do, you bend down, caressing her cheek and sweetly kissing her forehead "okay" like you always had done it.

"Te amo"

The first thing you did when you arrived at home was laying down on the couch, turning on the tv.

You had the day off, you were hungover - no need to do anything else but relax.

Around afternoon, your door bell rang.

You groaned, annoyed that you had to get up and pause your show in the middle of a thrilling scene.

As you opened the door, you were met with flowers - you couldn’t even the see the person who was holding them, that much flowers in their hands.

"Come in" you took some of the flowers - they looked amazing and smelled like spring - the person grateful for your help. The person followed you to the kitchen, still a bunch of flowers blocking their view.

Arrived in the kitchen, they put them down on the counter, revealing who she was but you knew that already.

Alexia,

was the only person who knew all of your favourite flowers and the only person who ever bought you some.

"hola" she greeted, nervously playing with her fingers.

She hadn’t been here in quite some time.

"Thank you for the breakfast this morning" she said.

Shortly after you had left, the midfielder had woken up, the smell of sandwiches filling the room and the feeling of something - someone - missing, waking her up.

She knew it was you straightaway, not only because of obvious reasons and parts of her memory but also the sandwich gave it away. You were never big fan of taking pills without food in your stomach and you had scowled at Alexia each time when she did so.

You nodded, continuing to put the flowers in vases - just as your body was littered in hickeys, your kitchen island was littered in varieties of flowers, many questions in your head

Why was she her? With flowers? So many of them too? How many were there anyway? Surely not just for a thank you.

"513" she said, almost as if she could read your mind. Somehow she could. She always knew what you thought or what you needed yet she was just too stupid to fulfill the one thing that you actually needed for this relationship to work.

"One for each day where I didn't tell anyone about us plus 20 for the 20€ I offered Alba" she explained, looking directly at you, "I’m sorry- very sorry for- well, for everything. I’m sorry for not taking you out on dates. I’m so sorry for letting you feel like my dirty little secret and for neglecting you outside of our apartments. You did not and do not deserve that because you‘re" subconsciously the corners of her lips turned upwards, her eyes turning into heart eyes, "you are truly amazing and wonderful and pretty and perfect, and the nicest, most caring and loving person I know and so much more" she carried on, "I did not deserve your kindness. I was scared because the feelings you let me feel are so overwhelming and I thought if we- told other people and then broke up, that I wouldn’t recover from that. The thought of the media and fans harassing us scared me too, more than I like to admit. It‘s no excuse, I just wanted to let you know. But the truth is it made no difference whether the people knew about us or not because I am not recovering from my heart break. And that‘s my own fault. You deserve better than me, I know that, but it kills me to imagine you with someone else. I want to do better. I need to do better and fight for us? because you- you are the love of my life. All of your romance books combined wouldn’t be enough to describe the things i feel for you."

You had stopped your movements awhile ago, shocked about everything she was telling you, "even just seeing you with my sister angered the Hulk out of me and we share the same blood" you let out a shaky laugh, the Hulk movie sadly one of the worst Marvel movies you had watched together.

Both of you were silent for a moment, "i‘m-"

"I-"

small giggles escaped the two of you as you started at the same time, "please continue" Ale said, smiling slightly.

"I don‘t know what to say, if I’m being honest" you admitted, overwhelmed by the situation.

"You don‘t have to. I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry and how sorry I truly am. I was never ashamed of you, just scared. You can do whatever you want with that now"

you let her words sink in, hands gripping the kitchen counter while you‘re mind was trying to process everything.

"I‘m hoping that one day, you‘ll be able to forgive me" she inhaled sharply, "and eventually for another chance." it was mumbled, almost inaudible.

She looked so small and vulnerable while she avoided eye contact. Her elegant and strict presence wasn‘t existing anymore, she was just a girl with a broken heart.

"Ale-"

"You don’t- i know- i- I’ll be waiting for you" she muttered, getting up. She walked around the kitchen island, pressing a gentle yet longing and lingering kiss to your temple, tearfully pulling back. She just couldn't stop herself from giving you that little kiss.

Was it the last one forever?

"Lo siento muchísimo"

You let her walk out of the kitchen as she turned around one last time, standing at door the door frame, "i will fight for you unless you say something else"

You were too stunned and shocked to say anything. Everything that happened in the last few minutes played out over and over again in your mind while your eyes followed the midfielder walking out of view.

So many thoughts argued in your head - not one thought clear, nor one gaining the upper hand. Everything was blurry, so confusing. Why couldn't it be easy? Love was so easy for everyone else... why not for you?

You had a good heart - you had to do it.

As usual, your mind was completely against it, but your heart and brain never shared the same opinion. You wanted it - you wanted her. Your heart was practically screaming after her which was why you followed her.

You wouldn’t let her walk through that door, like she had let you.

"Alexia"

She stopped in her tracks, not turning around, expecting you to tell her that there was no point in fighting for you.

Just get over it, please

"Look at me" your voice sounded firm yet caring. She couldn’t predict what your next move was - she was completely clueless, but expected more hurt than just her broken heart which already was one of the worst pains, she had ever suffered from.

Nonetheless she obeyed.

As you looked at her, you realized that your heart wasn‘t able to fight against your brain.

If you forgave her now, it would just show how easy it was to manipulate you.

An apology, no matter how sincere it was and no matter how sweet it was that she had bought you flowers (which had probably cost a lot), wouldn’t heal your wounds. Your pride and pain was still too present. It wouldn't be that easy for her. She had some serious groveling to do.

This time her name wasn’t enough for her to get everything she wanted or had set her mind to.

"Don‘t forgot to drink enough water" you said, internally slapping yourself for that comment.

Your heart wanted to say 'Promise me to try hard enough', so she would know that there was still hope. Because there was. She was your love and your greatest love story. Every part in your body loved her and she loved you, but sometimes love wasn‘t (strong) enough. And even though she didn‘t deserve you at the moment, she deserved the chance to fight for you. She just had to figure that by herself.

You let her walk through that door, like she had let you, hoping that she would try hard enough.

808 notes · View notes