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lilacmingi · 3 months

Text

WHEN YOU’RE ON YOUR PERIOD

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: ATEEZ x fem reader

Total word count: 8,580

Note: I tried to be vague here in terms of sanitary products since I know everyone has different preferences, but pads are mentioned in Mingi’s segment

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𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐆 | 홍중 | w.c. 900

Your eyes snapped open as you were awoken by a wave of painful cramps in your abdomen, the intensity so bad it made you physically react and curl in on yourself, your eyes squeezing shut in response. When that didn't bring any relief, you rolled over on your stomach, then onto your back with your arms resting on either side of your head as you stared at the ceiling.

You tried not to move around too much so as not to disturb your boyfriend, Hongjoong, who was sleeping soundly beside you. No doubt was he up half the night working on music, so you knew he needed his rest.

Quietly, you slipped out of bed to the bathroom and sifted thought your box of sanitary items to get something to put on before sliding back under the covers, silently praying the cramps would ease up enough for you to doze off.

Your fingers curled around the sheets, hands balled into fists as you tried to ignore the pain and go back to sleep. Minutes passed, though it felt like hours, and the cramps were too much to bare, so much that an unconscious, quiet whimper slipped past your lips, your face twisted in agony as you pressed it into your pillow. You didn't realize you had woken up your sleeping boyfriend until he called your name drowsily.

"Y/n? You alright?"

There was no hiding it at this point.

"Just my period. You should go back to sleep."

He ignored your suggestion and propped himself on his elbow, eyes scanning you worriedly. "Are you hurting?"

You nodded.

"Is it bad?"

"Enough to keep me from going back to sleep." You winced as another intense wave of cramps hit your lower abdomen.

"Do you need some medicine?"

"I didn't want to take any unless I absolutely have to."

"I think you need some." He commented, pulling back the covers.

"No." You put your hand out, stopping him from getting up. "You were up late and I'm sure you've got to go to the company and work on music later today."

"I can work on it here just the same as I can at work. I've got all my equipment with me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." He nodded. "I'd rather be here at home to help take care of you anyway."

With that, he got up out of bed and shuffled down the hallway to the kitchen where he grabbed a bottle of water and some pain medication to soothe your cramps.

"Here, love." He handed the bottle to you after returning to the bedroom, which you gratefully took, dropping a couple pills into your hand.

"Thanks." You popped the tablets into your mouth and washed them down with water before placing the bottle on the nightstand and slumping against the headboard with closed eyes.

A frown etched its way into Hongjoong's flawless features as he brought a hand up to brush your hair away from your face. Being a man, he was unsure of the amount of pain you were in or how intense it was. Despite that, he wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as possible during this time. He was fully aware that this was something you'd dealt with for a long time, yet he had a strong desire to care for you and help you through this time of the month. He cared for you too much to watch you suffer.

Your eyes opened to find Hongjoong still standing over you worriedly, his hand resting on top of your head.

"You can lay back down, you know." You chuckled softly.

He stayed in place for a couple seconds before giving in and crawling back into bed with you, his concerned gaze trained on you the entire time.

"Come here." You beckoned him over and he was by your side in an instant.

"Are you going to be okay?" He asked, his hand finding your lower abdomen and rubbing gentle circles over it.

"Of course I will. I just need to give this medicine time to kick in and do it's thing."

"How are your cramps?"

"They still hurt and I'm still uncomfortable, but the little massage feels nice."

"Good." He smiled, applying a little more pressure causing your eyelids to slide closed.

It's true, the massage was enough to lessen the pain, only the tiniest bit, but it was the gesture that counted.

"Are you feeling hot? Or cold? Are you getting chills? Do you need more blankets? If you're too hot I can turn the air conditioner up or bring a fan in here."

"You act like I'm sick or something." You tittered softly at his rambling. "This is just something I have to deal with every month. I'm used to it."

"That doesn't mean I can't take care of you."

"I guess you're right."

"I know I'm right." He grinned. "You still didn't answer my question."

A light chuckle left you. "I'm fine, Joong."

"Alright. I'll stop with the questions now. But if you need anything, and I mean anything, you let me know. If you're craving something specific or need another bottle of water, anything, just say something."

A fond smile graced your features as you brought your hand up to Hongjoong's hair, lovingly running your fingers through it. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"You're just lucky, I guess." He grinned.

𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐖𝐀 | 성화 | w.c. 850

A knock at your front door sounded through your mostly quiet apartment as you lied in bed curled into a ball.

Not fully awake, you didn't register the persistent knocking for quite some time. Only when it got louder did you sit upright, letting out a frustrated groan. You had started your period the day before and your symptoms were terrible. Your cramps were so bad you had to lie down with a hot pack across your abdomen, the heat making you sweat, though every time you took the pack off, you got goosebumps along your skin and felt freezing cold. To make matters worse, there were breakouts on your face, blotting your skin with ugly, discolored spots, all of these things making you feel gross overall. You hoped whoever was at the door wasn't someone important as you went to answer it.

Your heart dropped to your feet when you saw your boyfriend standing outside.

"Seonghwa!" You exclaimed out of surprise, hurrying to cover your face. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to surprise you. Is it a bad time?"

Yes. Is what you wanted to say.

"I..." You trailed off.

"Are you sick?"

"No. I just look terrible right now."

"That doesn't bother me." He chuckled.

You flinched away when you felt his fingers trying to wrap around your wrists.

"No." You groaned, keeping your hands planted firmly on your face. "It's that time of the month and I'm sweaty, my clothes are soaked, my face is covered in breakouts, I'm bloated, and I'm cramping so so badly that I want to cry."

"Hey." He called out softly, pulling your hands away.

You avoided eye contact with him, not wanting him to see you in such a disheveled state.

His gaze softened when he looked at you, a gentle smile gracing his lips.

"You still look beautiful to me."

You wanted to roll your eyes, but you knew Seonghwa was a genuine person and maybe, even though it was hard to believe, you did look beautiful in his eyes.

"Come on. I have an idea." He took your hand, stepping into your apartment and closing the door behind him before leading you to your bathroom.

You weren't sure what he had in mind, but whatever it was he seemed pleased with himself, so you weren't going to stop him.

Once in your bathroom, he let go of your hand and started rummaging through your cabinets.

"Alright, let's see." He muttered to himself, scanning the items in your bathroom closet.

"Hwa, what are you doing?" You finally asked, a light chuckle accompanying your question.

"I'm giving you a spa day."

"A spa day?" You echoed, your heart fluttering slightly.

"Yeah." He pulled a towel and washcloth from the bathroom closet. "You're feeling bad and what better way to help than to have a spa day? Plus, you deserve to be pampered."

You didn't know if it was your period or your overwhelming love and appreciation for Seonghwa, but you felt like crying.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, my love." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "Bath or shower?"

"Shower."

Though a bath would be nice, nothing beat the feeling of hot water hitting your lower abdomen, right where the cramps were.

Seonghwa was nice enough to get the shower running for you, sticking his hand in to check the water temperature and make sure it was hot enough.

You thanked him as he left the room, removing your clothes after the door clicked shut. The warm steam hitting your skin as you stepped into the shower was a welcomed feeling. You managed to get through your usual shower routine, the hot water helping to soothe your persistently painful cramps, at least long enough for you to finish bathing.

Once out of the shower, you changed into the fresh pair of clothes you brought with you and used the feminine product you had laid out.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you found Seonghwa laid out on your bed.

"How was your shower?"

"Wonderful. I even cleansed my face while I was in there. I feel so refreshed."

"Well, we're not done yet." He got up off the bed. "Come on."

Guiding you back into the bathroom, Seonghwa opened up a little cabinet beside your sink where all your skincare products were stored and pulled out a small box of acne patches.

He plucked one of the star-shaped pimple patches off the plastic sheet, gently instructing you to stay still while he placed the patch onto your face, covering one of the blemishes.

"One more." He murmured, pulling off a second one and sticking it to your chin.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He placed a kiss to your forehead. "Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?"

"I'm fine for now. Thank you, though. What I would really like is to cuddle up in bed with you, a heating pad, and something to watch."

"I can arrange that." He smiled happily. "But first, let's get you some pain medicine for those pesky cramps."

"That sounds like a good idea."

𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐎 | 윤호 | w.c. 1,500

Music echoed throughout the practice room as Yunho danced, hitting each move with sharp precision. His facial expressions were intense and full of emotion as if he were putting on an actual performance on stage in front of fans.

You sat in a chair by the wall, watching him with a mesmerized gaze, enraptured by not only him, but his talent and overflowing passion for dancing. Every so often he would glance at you through the mirror, giving you a little smirk before continuing with his routine, knowing the effect he had on you, especially with the sleeves of his t-shirt rolled up to show off his arms.

As you watched, you were suddenly hit with a wave of cramps so painful it caused you to lean forward a bit, almost curling in on yourself. Your face scrunched up in response to the sharp pain.

You had started your period the night before and was expecting to be hit with these terrible cramps sooner or later—it always happened. When you first start, things are light as your body prepares to run its natural cycle, then on the first official day it hits... and it hits hard. Normally, you're woken up in the early morning hours with the most awful cramps, one's that prevent you from sleeping for a while, but on days like this it hits when you're least expecting it.

Rummaging through your bag, you retrieved a small bottle of menstrual pain relief pills, grateful that you carried some with you at all times. Shaking one out into your palm, you grabbed the bottle of water by your chair and used it to take the medication, thankfully going unnoticed by Yunho. Though you wished it would work right away and rid you of this pain and discomfort, you knew that wouldn't happen.

Attempting to ignore the throbbing in your abdomen, you continued watching your boyfriend move across the wooden flooring of the practice room, hoping for a distraction.

Who were you kidding? Nothing could distract you from from the stabbing pain you were experiencing.

The song ended and Yunho moved over to mess with his phone, choosing another song to dance to, his chest heaving up and down as he huffed out short breaths.

"You're doing so good." You praised him, putting on a smile.

"Thanks." He panted. "I think I'm gonna do a couple more songs before I take a break."

"Don't overwork yourself, okay?"

"I know." He smiled softly, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead.

The next song started to play and he moved back to the center of the room to begin the routine. You crossed your legs and wrapped your arms around your midsection, curling in a bit in an attempt to get some relief. It seemed one of the best positions to be in during your monthly was curling up in a ball, of course, you couldn't exactly do that right now as you were sitting in a chair.

Your cramps eased up for a moment only to return a few seconds later, goosebumps rising on your skin as the air in the practice room suddenly felt cooler than it was moments before. At the same time, you felt yourself starting to sweat a bit.

Great. You groaned internally.

These were the worst kind of cramps; the ones where you're hot but you're cold at the same time, unable to find a comfortable temperature.

Halfway through the song, Yunho noticed your behavior. He caught you squeezing your eyes shut every so often, seeing an uncomfortable expression on your face and the stiffness in your posture. His dancing immediately ceased as he headed towards you, turning the music down.

"Are you okay, love? You look a little washed out." He commented, placing his hand on your forehead. "What's going on?"

"I got hit with the worst cramps ever." You groaned, giving up your act as you slumped forward in both defeat and agony.

"Oh, baby." Yunho cooed, crouching on the floor beside you, his hand rubbing your back. "Do you need some medicine?"

"I took some a few minutes ago. Just waiting for it to kick in."

"Why don't I take you home so you can rest."

"No. You need to practice."

"I've been practicing long enough. You need to be somewhere with a heating pad."

"That sounds nice." You sighed, imagining the soothing heat pressed against your aching lower abdomen.

"Let's go."

"I can't help but feel like I'm preventing you from practicing." You murmured after stepping into the elevator.

"You're not." He assured you, grabbing hold of your hand. "I wanted to get a little practice in and I did."

The last thing you wanted was to be a burden. Yunho was a famous K-pop idol whose group had a giant fanbase. He needed to practice hard and spend hours at the company to perfect and improve his dancing and performance skills. Somehow, you felt you were a distraction that would cause your boyfriend to get in trouble with the entertainment company for "slacking off".

Yunho, who could tell by the distant look in your eyes that you were lost in a whirl of troublesome and perhaps even negative thoughts, gave your hand a light squeeze, bringing you back to reality.

"Are you hungry?" He asked. "Dancing really worked up my appetite."

"Yeah." You nodded. "I had a light breakfast so I could definitely go for some food."

"Good. We can go back to the dorm and I'll order us something. You can pick whatever you want. Oh, I have a heating pad too. That should help with your cramps."

"But I don't have any... stuff there." You responded.

You had one or two menstrual items with you in your bag, but that wouldn't be enough to last you a visit at Yunho's.

"Oh. Don't worry about it. I can stop by a store on the way and buy whatever you need."

His offer was so sweet it had you falling for him all over again.

"You don't have to do all that."

"I don't mind." His round eyes sparkled with the genuine desire to help you out in any way he possibly could.

The elevator doors slid open and the both of you headed through the lobby and out onto the sidewalk where Yunho's car was parked on the curb.

At the dorm, Yunho handed you the plastic bag with the feminine products he had purchased for you on the way.

"What would you like to eat? I can go ahead and order it."

After going through a list of things you were craving, you decided on one and let Yunho know.

Just before he left the room to place the order, he stopped at the doorway. "If you want to change into something more comfortable, you have free range of my closet."

As soon as he left the room, you wasted no time scurrying over to his closet and rummaging through his shirts. What you currently had on was comfortable, but there was no way you'd pass up the opportunity to wear Yunho's clothes.

Pulling one of your favorite shirts of his from the closet, you brought it with you to the bathroom where you switched out feminine products and changed into the cozy shirt.

Yunho returned just a couple minutes later to inform you the order had been placed before rummaging through his closet, pulling out a heating pad.

"Come on." He beckoned, pulling back the covers of his bed and nodding towards the empty space.

You slid under the sheets, staring up at Yunho who worked to plug up the pad.

"You should lie down and use this while we wait on the food. Then maybe your cramps will be gone and you can fully enjoy your meal."

Your heart swelled with adoration at his words.

Yunho laid the heating pad across your stomach before resting his hand on top of it.

"How's that feel?" His gentle voice asked.

"So good." You sighed out, closing your eyes. "My cramps eased up a bit on the ride over here, but this heat is doing wonders."

"Good." The smile in Yunho's voice was evident as he leaned in, brushing your hair away from your forehead to place a gentle kiss there.

You peeled your eyes open to see Yunho grabbing his dog-shaped body pillow which he designed for his birthday merchandise.

"Here. You can hold Pudeongie."

You chuckled, taking the pillow from him and hugging it to your side. Though you preferred to cuddle with Yunho, you couldn't exactly do that with the heating pad laying over your lower abdomen.

"Thank you for taking care of me." You hummed.

"You're welcome, beautiful." He combed a hand through your hair. "I need to get a quick shower and wash all this sweat off. Then we can cuddle properly while we wait for our food."

A content smile settled onto your features. "That sounds perfect."

𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐆 | 여상 | w.c. 1,000

Twice. That's how many times you cried over a commercial that day. Why? Well, you were blaming it on your period, especially since grocery store commercials didn't normally tug at your heartstrings on a normal day. I mean, how can you possibly keep it together when there's a commercial about an animated man who's little granddaughter pulls out an old recipe book from his deceased wife that he hadn't opened in years?

You were wiping away tears that were threatening to spill when your phone chimed from its spot beside you on the couch. Flipping the device over, you were met with your boyfriend's contact photo taking up the entirety of your screen. It was a FaceTime call. Your thumb swiped to accept the call, holding the phone up so he could see you.

"Hi, angel." He flashed that heart-melting smile of his, waving to the camera.

Judging by the background, he was at his dorm in his bedroom.

"Hi, Sangie."

His large eyes suddenly became sad, worried even, while his lips stuck into a pout. "Were you crying? Are you okay?"

"Oh." You glanced at yourself in the camera, noticing the slightly glossy look your eyes were currently sporting.

It wasn't super obvious that you had been tearing up, but Yeosang was always so perceptive when it came to you.

"My emotions are all crazy. I got choked up watching a commercial." You chuckled, finding it a bit humorous.

"So you're not sad?" He wanted to be certain that you weren't upset.

"No." You laughed softly. "Just hormonal."

Yeosang's brows raised, his eyes becoming wider in sudden realization. Then came the flood of questions.

"Do you need anything? Are you hurting? Should I pick up some pads? Tampons? Do you have enough pain relievers? Are you drinking lots of water? I heard being active helps cramps. Have you been active? Are you taking vitamins? There are supplements that help ease period symptoms. Should I get you some of those?"

"I'm fine, Yeosang." You cut in before he could continue, chuckling endearingly at his concerned rambling. "I'm not hurting too bad. It's only the third day so my cramps aren't too bad. They come and go, but they're not as severe as they were on day one. Yes I'm drinking water, maybe not enough, but I'm drinking it. And I've been lounging on the couch since I got out of bed."

"Ah. Sorry. I guess I got carried away." That tiny, shy smile of his made its appearance as he rubbed the back of his neck in a sheepish manner. "Have you been eating fruits or something healthy?"

You nearly snorted. "Actually, I've been indulging in some of the cravings I've been having." You lifted a bag of your favorite chips to the camera. "So, what are you up to?"

"I called because I don't have a schedule today and I wanted to see if you'd like to hang out."

Just the thought of spending time with Yeosang made your heart soar with excitement.

"I would love to."

"Since you're on your period, I'll come to your place. If that's okay with you."

"Yeah." You nodded. "That's perfect, actually."

"Okay." He beamed. "I'll start making my way right now."

"I'll be waiting." You waved. "Love you."

"Love you too."

The FaceTime ended and you tossed your phone back to the couch cushion, briefly considering wether or not you should leave your comfortable spot on the sofa and put some makeup on. It didn't take long for you to to completely disregard the idea. After all, you had just FaceTimed him and he saw your makeup-free (and slightly blemished) face so there was no need covering it up.

A gentle knock on your front door sounded just fifteen minutes after your call with Yeosang. You leapt from your seat and scurried to answer the door. The man you had been longing to see stepped inside, wrapping his arms around you in a cozy embrace while he gently rocked the both of you side to side.

"I'm so happy to see you."

"I'm happy to see you too, precious." He pulled away, gazing at you with those sparkly, brown eyes of his. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm cramping, but it's nothing too bad. Not right now, anyway."

"You sure?"

"Mhm."

"What do you feel like doing?"

"Well, I was watching TV on the couch but I'd kind of like to lie down."

"Okay then we'll cuddle in bed and have a movie marathon."

You hummed in agreement and tugged Yeosang further into your home, guiding him to your bedroom where the both of you got comfortable under the covers.

Your boyfriend had barely gotten situated before you were resting your head on his chest and snuggling into his side.

It was a blessing that Yeosang wanted to come over because it's exactly what you needed at that moment. Being cuddled up next to him made your heart swell and provided you with a cozy feeling in your chest.

"What would you like to watch?" He reached for the remote.

"Actually, do you think you could sing to me?"

Yeosang stiffened just the slightest bit, clearly not expecting the request.

"Of course. Any song suggestions?"

"Whatever you want to sing." You murmured, snuggling further into his chest.

A gentle smile graced Yeosang's statuesque features as he began singing a current favorite song of his. His fingers ran through your hair in a gentle and soothing manner, your eyes fluttering closed in response as you listened to his silky voice, which was doing a great job at distracting you from your cramps that were thankfully going away on their own, albeit slowly.

Yeosang's voice was heavenly. From his low register to his faint lisp that could be heard in his singing. It all had your heart doing somersaults in your chest.

"So beautiful." You murmured sleepily, as Yeosang's gentle ministrations were making you drowsy. "Thank you, Yeo."

This was all you needed.

𝐒𝐀𝐍 | 산 | w.c. 1,400

4 AM. That's what time you were finally able to get to sleep the night before. It was that time of the month and your incessant cramps were so bad not even Midol could fix it. You were miserable. Normally, you could ignore any mild cramps that would inconveniently hit just as you were going to bed, but these were the kind that kept you awake, the pain just a little too intense for you to relax, leaving you tossing and turning for hours on end. Between the cramps and having to get up to pee every five minutes, there was no way you could rest.

It was after barely after 4 AM when your cramps eased up just enough for you to relax and finally doze off.

Presently, it was 12 PM, which meant you got a decent eight hours of sleep, even though your body felt like it needed just a smidge more.

You pushed yourself out of bed, giving a brief glance at the fitted sheet wrapped around the mattress to make sure you didn't have any overnight leaks. With no stains in sight, you shuffled to the bathroom where you went through your usual routine and freshened up, which woke you up a bit and made you feel a little less crappy.

You swapped your PJs for some loose-fitting sweats and one of your boyfriend's shirts that he left at your place before heading to the living room to turn on the television. After a few moments of mindless channel surfing, you found a show that grabbed your attention and decided to watch.

It didn't take long for your cramps to start up again. The ache, while annoying, wasn't anything too unbearable, not like last night, anyway. So you ignored it, sinking further into the couch cushions while keeping your eyes locked on the TV.

You made it through the remainder of the episode before the cramps really ramped up, the sudden increase in pain and discomfort causing you to lurch forward.

Your face contorted in agony, the sharp jabs in your abdomen leading you to jump to your feet and make a beeline for the kitchen where the medicine was kept. You tore open the cabinet and located the pain medicine you so desperately needed. Since your cramps were just as bad as they were in the early morning hours, you took two pills, assuring you'd get the minimum amount of pain relief.

With a hot pack laid across your lower abdominal area, you settled back into the couch cushions and proceeded to watch television, doing your best to focus on the show. Sometimes having a distraction helped to take your attention off the wrath Mother Nature was thrusting upon your uterus.

At some point, you unconsciously started rocking back and forth, partially hunched over. The heat paired with the movement seemed to be helping just a little, however now a very thin layer of sweat covered your forehead and on your shirt where the hot pack was pressed against your abdomen was a damp spot. You huffed, pulling off the hot pack to fan your shirt a bit and cool off. That only caused a wave of goosebumps to rise along your skin, the air in your home being a little too cold for your linking. So you laid the hot pack back across your abdomen. This went back and forth for the next ten minutes or so, only adding to your frustration and discomfort.

"Ha. Ha. I love being a woman." You commented dryly to no one at all, wrapping your arms around your midsection.

You probably looked pathetic all crumpled up and curled in on yourself but you were in the privacy of your own home and you were in extreme pain. You'd do whatever it took to get it to go away.

The stabbing cramps had gotten so bad in such a short amount of time. Your brain was in a haze and all you could think about was the pain. Just when you felt you had reached your limit, your phone rang.

Fumbling for the device, you lifted it to see who was calling. It was San, your loving boyfriend whom you were suddenly missing very much. You accepted the call and raised the phone to your ear.

"Hello, gorgeous." His silky voice came through the speaker.

"Hi, Sannie." You did your best to sound cheery, but the greeting came out as a sort of pained grunt.

"Are you okay?" The pout in his voice was evident.

"No. Not really." You answered honestly. "I'm on my period."

A tiny gasp was heard on his end followed by an, "Oh no."

"Yeah."

"You poor thing." He cooed. "Why don't I come take care of you."

"That would be great."

"I'll be over there as soon as I can, baby."

Less than 20 minutes later, there was a knock at your door which had your heart jumping for joy. As soon as you opened the door, San walked in and pulled you into a hug.

"Hi dear." He murmured as he stroked the top of your head. "Are you hurting?"

"Very much so."

"Ah." He nodded knowingly as you parted ways. "I know what I have to do."

He balled his hands into fists, crouching down at bit so he was level with your lower abdomen. Before you had the chance to question what he was doing, he began to punch the area where your uterus was, stopping right in front of it because, well, he would never actually hit you.

"Stop!" He demanded sharply, going in for another punch. "Stop it."

The phrase was uttered during each strike of his fist, his words being punctuated by his actions.

The chuckles that had begun to spill from your lips were now turning into full on laughter as your boyfriend continued punching at your lower abdomen, demanding that it "stop".

"Thank you, Sannie." You giggled.

The both of you made yourselves comfortable on the couch where San immediately wrapped his arms around you and held you close.

"If you need anything, let me know."

"Okay." You tittered softly.

Having San with you provided a good enough distraction to take your mind off the discomfort in your abdominal area. He would make comments about something on TV and ask questions to help keep you occupied with things besides period pains.

At some point, you stood up and excused yourself to go switch feminine products, doing so in just a couple minutes.

It was only when you were returning to the living room that you realized your abdominal cramps had gone away but a persistent, dull ache had become present in your lower back.

Your face twitched slightly as you shuffled towards the couch, catching your always observant boyfriend's attention.

"What is it?" He asked.

"I'm having cramps in my back."

"You have period cramps in your back?" San asked in disbelief.

"Sometimes." You sighed, unconsciously massaging your lower spine.

Your boyfriend was baffled. San knew periods could be a pain and there were lots of symptoms that varied in intensity, but this was crazy. Why would you get pain in other areas? He didn't think that was very fair.

"Come here." San took your hands, leading you to your bedroom where he insisted you lie down on your stomach.

You did as he asked, getting yourself comfortable on the mattress before feeling it dip under San's weight.

"Tell me where it hurts." His hands placed themselves on your spine.

"Lower."

His palms slid further down your back.

"Right there."

San's thumbs rubbed over the muscles a few times, making long upward strokes as he applied pressure on the sore spots. A sigh passed through your slightly parted lips as relief washed over you.

"Is that good?" He inquired tentatively.

"So good."

San hated that this was something you had to deal with every month. Even though that's just how things were and he couldn't do anything about it, it didn't seem fair.

"I'm sorry you're feeling so icky, pretty."

"I'm far from pretty right now." You chuckled.

"Not true."

His ministrations came to a halt as you lifted your head just enough to glance back at him.

"I'm serious." He insisted with a pout.

"You're too sweet." You dropped your head back onto the pillow as he continued massaging.

"Only for you, lovely."

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐈 | 민기 | w.c. 900

If there was one thing about your period, it was that it showed up at the most inconvenient time.

Mingi's body moved with such fluidity that it had you mesmerized—hypnotized, even. His body control was out of this world and never failed to hold your attention. His oversized sleeveless tee hung off his slim figure, the thin fabric swinging about as he danced with rigor and passion. His movements were so intense sometimes that the hem of his shirt would fly up and reveal his tiny waist and smooth stomach. The sight was a small blessing to your eyes and just another perk of watching him get in an extra practice session on his weekend off. His brows were pulled together in concentration, his sharp eyes fixed on his reflection, inspecting his own movements. He had no idea you were practically drooling over him in the corner of the room.

You were having a wonderful time when suddenly you felt it... the gush.

Right away, you sat upright and pushed yourself up from your seat, standing stiffly in place.

This abrupt and unusual reaction caught Mingi's attention almost immediately and had him scrambling to pause the music.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I just need to go to the bathroom." You excused yourself and headed straight for the practice room door, trying your best to walk normally instead of the usual stiff-legged hobble you would be doing if you were at home.

You had started your period the day prior and it was already in full swing, hitting you with all it had. This morning before you left, everything was light, so you assumed this time around you'd ease into it, but you were so very wrong.

In the bathroom, you closed the stall door behind you, making sure to lock it before taking a seat to assess the damage.

"Oh boy." You whispered under your breath, reaching for your bag and rummaging for an extra pad in the inner side zipper. Empty.

Oh no.

Normally, you had extra feminine hygiene products with you, however, it seemed this time you had forgotten to replace them.

Great.

After washing your hands, you returned to the practice room, shifting from one foot to the other. It appeared that Mingi hadn't moved since you left the room, his normally narrow eyes now round with worry.

"Is everything okay?"

"Uh." You rubbed the back of your neck.

Just say it. It's a normal thing, Y/n. You reminded yourself. There's nothing to be embarrassed about.

"I don't have any pads with me." You confessed embarrassedly.

Mingi blinked owlishly a few times, not quite understanding what you meant.

You gave a vague nod down towards your lower half, trying to communicate without saying it outright.

Mingi's eyes became wider in realization.

"Ohh!"

"Yeah." You sighed. "I forgot to put more in my bag and I need one... like right now."

You were about to apologize for needing to leave so abruptly so you could take care of the problem when Mingi spoke up.

"Stay here. I'll go find you one."

"What?" You questioned, your eyes following him as he hurriedly exited the practice room.

Without receiving a response, you dropped down into the chair you occupied before your hasty exit moments earlier, waiting patiently for your boyfriend to return.

Mingi moved down the halls of KQ, searching for any staff that may be nearby. He popped his head into empty offices and meeting rooms, turning corners and scouring the place for any employees wandering about. The entertainment company had many staff members, so it shouldn't be that hard.

He came upon one of the lounges, poking his head into the room to find two female staff members having a quick snack together.

"Excuse me." He spoke timidly, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed to ask for feminine products. "Do either of you happen to have any... pads?"

He was quick to put himself back in place, reminding himself that he was helping you out.

You were his girlfriend and if you needed a pad then gosh darn it he was going to get one for you, embarrassed or not.

"Oh. I'm sorry I don't." One of the women apologized.

"I do, but I left my bag in my office on the next floor." The other responded.

"Ah."

Mingi didn't want to inconvenience the woman, especially since she probably had a busy schedule so he thanked them both and left, continuing his search.

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth while his eyes darted around, reading the labels on each door that lined the hall in search of his next place to check.

After three tries, Mingi was able to get you a pad, which he hoped was enough to sustain you for the duration of his solo practice.

Your boyfriend reentered the practice room, holding up the plastic-wrapped square like it was a trophy.

"I got it."

You plucked the item from his hand, pulling him into a hug.

"You didn't have to do that. I was just gonna go to a nearby store and buy some."

"I knew I could find one quicker by asking around."

You smiled softly. "Thank you."

"Of course." He brushed your hair out of your face. "You feeling alright?"

"For now."

"If you need to go home, just let me know."

"I will. Thanks, Mingi."

𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 | 우영 | w.c. 980

You stepped down the aisle that housed all the feminine products you could ever need, Wooyoung coming to a stop beside you as you eyed the pad and tampon section.

"So what size pu—"

"Don't even finish that sentence." You cut him off, raising your hand to stop him. "I don't want to hear that phrase or that word come out of your mouth."

"Yes ma'am." He saluted.

Huffing, you proceeded further down the aisle until you found what you were looking for.

While scanning the different sizes of products available on the shelves, your ever curious boyfriend wandered up and down the aisle to keep himself busy.

Once you acquired what you were looking for, you turned to see Wooyoung holding a box of tampons, examining the packaging.

"You put these inside you?" He asked in disbelief.

"Woo, put those back."

He did as he was told, his face twisted in either disgust or discomfort, you couldn't tell, as he did so.

"Alright. I've got everything I need." You announced, preparing to head to the register until you realized Wooyoung stayed put, staring with furrowed brows at the plethora of feminine products lining the shelves.

"What is it?"

"Why are there so many?" He asked. "How do you even know what to get?"

"It all depends on what you're comfortable with. Some people prefer tampons, others prefer pads."

"Okay but the pictures on these are different." He pointed to a section of pads.

"Right. Some have wings so the pad stays in place and doesn't squish up and some don't. Again, that's all depending on personal preference. Some pads are thin while others are thick so they can absorb more. They vary in size as well. Some people like longer pads so they don't have a leak while they're sleeping or lying down."

Wooyoung's eyes remained wide, his brows pulled together as he soaked in all this new information, scanning over each plastic package.

"How do you know if you need thin pads or thick ones?"

"That depends on your flow."

"Flow?" He echoed.

You did not expect to be having an in-depth conversation about periods with your boyfriend in the middle of the feminine hygiene aisle but there you were.

Then again, he grew up with brothers. Of course he wouldn't know everything about a woman's menstrual cycle. Also you didn't think that was something that a mother would talk to her son about, especially in detail.

"You know how you can barely turn a faucet on and the water runs just a little, but when you turn it more, a lot of water comes out?"

He nodded.

"That's how it is with periods."

"So you can turn it off?"

"Unfortunately not. That's why we need these things." You gestured to the array of feminine products. "What I mean is, with some people their flow is heavy while others are lighter, so you buy products according to that."

"It's not the same for everyone?"

"Not at all. Some people have very heavy flows. I've even heard of people buying bladder leak pads because they're more absorbent."

"It gets that bad?" Wooyoung gaped.

"Mhm." You nodded.

"And it's the same for the other things too?"

"Tampons."

"Right. That."

"Yes. They've got different sizes according to your flow as well."

"Wow. That's so complicated."

"Not when you've lived with it most of your life." You chuckled. "Let's go."

"Girls get cravings for chocolate when they're on their period, right?" Wooyoung asked as the both of you made your way towards the front of the store.

"It's not always chocolate, but yes. Cravings tend to happen." You responded.

"What do you usually crave?" He asked.

"Usually sweet stuff, but it differs."

"Should I get you some?"

Your expression softened as you looked at him, seeing the genuine care in his eyes.

"Sure."

"Come on then. Let's go see what they have." Wooyoung took hold of your free hand, pulling you towards the snack aisle which was packed with junk food and sweets.

You perused the shelves, trying to figure out what sounded good at the moment.

"Pick whatever you want." Wooyoung told you. "My treat."

That made you stop. "What?"

"Your period stuff, snacks, I'll pay for all of it."

For someone who was making period jokes earlier, he sure was being sweet.

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek, thanking him for his thoughtful offer.

On the way home, you decided to tease Wooyoung since he barely knew anything about periods, curious to see his reaction to a particular prank you'd seen circulating the internet.

"Did you know pads and tampons come in different flavors?"

Wooyoung's eyes widened. "Flavors?"

"Yeah. Didn't you notice the colors and pictures on the packaging?"

"Yes."

"The color is whatever flavor they are. Green is green apple, purple is grape, pink is strawberry and so on."

"Wait really?"

"Yeah."

"Why? What's the point?"

You shrugged, holding back a grin.

"Are you being serious right now? Do they really have flavors?"

"No." You laughed, throwing your head back as you let loose a string of cackles.

"Y/n, that's so mean." Wooyoung pouted. "I almost believed you."

"Sorry." You laughed. "I just wanted to see if I could get by with it."

"I bought you snacks." His full lips were stuck out as he spoke, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I was just teasing, love." You nudged him.

Unable to keep up his act any longer, Wooyoung cracked a small smile.

"That was pretty good, actually."

"I know." You grinned.

"I think you should make it up to me though"

"How?" Your eyes narrowed, wondering what sort of deal he was preparing to strike up.

"Play video games with me when we get home."

A smiled made its way onto your face at his proposal. "I think that can be arranged."

𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎 | 종호 | w.c. 1,050

The sunlight that seeped in through the window hit your closed eyelids, the intrusion pulling you from your sleep just enough to make you aware of it. You rolled over in bed keeping your eyes shut, snuggling further into your plush pillow. As you slowly began to wake, you stretched your arm across the bed, reaching for Jongho only to be met with an empty space, the palm of your hand hitting the sheets that were crumpled from being haphazardly tossed back into place. The lack of his presence made you frown, sitting up on your elbow while searching the room.

All thoughts of your temporarily missing boyfriend flew right out the bedroom window as a sticky and somewhat uncomfortable feeling below caught your attention. The all too familiar heart-stopping feeling was something you knew well. Without wasting another second, you shot up out of bed, jerking back the covers to find an ugly, red stain on the fitted sheet.

"No, no, no, no, no." You murmured the same word over and over again in a panic.

This was Jongho's bed and it was his sheets you'd just ruined.

"Crap." You hissed, rushing to your bag to grab an extra pair of underwear and fresh pants, taking your toiletry bag with you as you slipped into the bathroom to clean yourself up. While in the bathroom, you managed to get most of the bloodstain off your panties thanks to some cold water and hand soap, which seemed to do the trick. The process was repeated for your pajama bottoms.

Once you were finished, you went back to Jongho's room and promptly stripped his bed, wadding your stained underwear and pajama pants up with them.

You weren't sure where Jongho was, but you hoped you could make it to the laundry room without being noticed.

The universe must've been against you because as soon as you stepped out of the bedroom, Jongho was standing there in the hallway.

"Jongho." You uttered his name dumbly.

"Y/n, you're awake." He smiled softly, his eyes dropping down to the crumpled wad of fabric in your arms. "Why do you have the sheets?"

"I sweat pretty bad last night." You lied. "I didn't want to leave your sheets stinky so I'm going to wash them."

"Oh. You don't have to do that. I can wash them."

You pulled the heap away from him just as he reached out to take them from you. "It's okay. I got it. Really."

He held his hands up in surrender. "Alright."

You hurried past him and into the laundry room, lying the sheet across the top of the washer and dryer along with your underwear and pajama bottoms as you rummaged through Jongho's detergent to see if he had a stain stick or something to pretreat the splotch before tossing it into the wash.

You pushed past bleach, fabric softener, and laundry scent crystals, but you couldn't seem to find any stain remover.

Jongho heard your noisy rummaging from the other room, going to check on you and see if you needed any help. When he stepped into the laundry room he saw his sheets laid out, a dark red stain standing out against the gray fabric. Along with it was your panties and the pair of pajama bottoms you had worn to bed the night before, an equally as noticeable stain on them as well.

Your eyes were blown wide like a deer in the headlights as embarrassment and mortification hit you like a massive wave, your entire face set on fire due to the situation.

Not only had Jongho seen the ugly stain you left on his (probably expensive) sheets, but your underwear and pajama bottoms as well.

You should have moved. You should have scrambled to grab your panties and hidden them behind your back, but you were completely frozen in place, unable to move. As if that wasn't bad enough, you could feel what was sure to be a painful series of cramps coming on in your lower abdomen.

Jongho's eyes met yours and you let loose, sputtering what could only be classified as word vomit.

"I'm so sorry I ruined your sheets. I promise I'll get the stain out. I know it's gross and it's embarrassing."

"It's not gross." He responded, his expression showing no disgust whatsoever. "You can't control it."

"What?"

Jongho shrugged. "It's only natural."

You couldn't ignore the way your heart thumped. Of course Jongho wouldn't think something like this was a big deal. You should've known better. Nothing ever phased him.

Jongho's eyes drifted back over to the sheets on the washer where your undergarment was still laid out for him to see.

"Don't look at those." You stepped in front of your unmentionables to block his view.

"Why?" He chuckled amusedly. "It's just underwear. You've seen mine before."

"That's because you don't know how to keep your room clean and they're tossed on the floor."

"Touché. But it's still just underwear. No big deal." He stepped forward, rubbing the top of your head. "You're worrying too much, pretty."

You huffed softly, sticking out your bottom lip in reluctant defeat.

"Now let's take care of these sheets. What were you looking for in here?"

"Something to pretreat the stain."

"Ah." Jongho moved over to his laundry products, pulling out a spray bottle. "I believe this is what you were searching for. This should do the trick. I've used it to get coffee stains out of my clothes plenty of times. Works like a charm."

"Thanks." You took the bottle from him and sprayed the stains on everything before tossing them into the washing machine.

"I'll start the wash." Jongho volunteered, messing with the settings and starting the laundry cycle.

He came up and rubbed your back soothingly.

"You feeling alright?"

"For now. The cramps haven't started up yet, but I'm sure they will."

"If they do, I've got a heating pad you can use."

Your gaze softened while a gentle smile graced your features. "Thank you."

"Of course." He stroked your hair in a caring manner. "Are you hungry? You want anything to eat?"

"Some breakfast sounds nice."

"Alright. I'll make you your favorite." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "You just sit and I'll make it."

★ ────────────────── ★

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leilakisakabiri · 7 months

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Jealousy, Jealousy (Gavi)

Summary: You realize that Gavi never gets jealous when other guys are around you and it makes you question if he still likes you.

Warning(s): None

A/N: Hey! I had some inspiration to write so here I am! I’m trying to release shorter fics while I work on my longer ones. Requests are open!

Word Count: 2.5k+

Masterlist

The first time it happened, you felt relieved that Gavi had decided not to make a scene and instead chose to calmly defuse the situation.

The two of you had been at a club late one night, the high from Barcelona winning hours before pumping through your veins. He had his arms wrapped around you as you both danced to whatever Spanish song the DJ was mixing.

You laughed as he spun you around before pulling you closer, leaning down to whisper in your ear as he moved a strand of hair out of your face.

"I'm going to grab another drink. Want to come?"

His breath was hot against your ear, and even though it felt like a million degrees in the club, and you were sweating through your dress, you still shivered, his voice sending shockwaves through your system no matter how many times you heard it.

You looked up, locking eyes, "I'm good, I'll save our spot."

He kissed the top of your head before letting go, "Ok I'll be back in a second. Try and find the others if you can."

You gave him an awkward thumbs up as he walked away and he chuckled before disappearing into the crowd.

The two of you had been dating for just shy of three weeks.

You had been friends for months before dating, with you initially being introduced to him through his hometown friends. Then there was a three-month period where you both liked each other but were too scared to admit it and ruin the friendship. Finally, Gavi caved after spending two weeks away from you without contact while he playing in the U.S.

Since he admitted his feelings for you that night on the steps of your shitty college house, he had jumped straight into the relationship, inviting you to his games, to hang out with his friends, and private dinners. You on the other hand still felt like an awkward pre-teen girl every time you were with him, he just made you feel giddy inside, and you reacted to things he said so intensely that the only way to cover it up was with strange humor and stupid jokes.

That led you to now. Sometimes being around him was so overwhelming because you were always scared you would say something to embarrass yourself, and although he never made you feel any less worthy you couldn't help but feel like he could be with someone much better than you.

As you stood there contemplating, you felt a body collide with yours, effectively pulling you out of your thoughts.

You stumbled, feeling hands come up to grip your elbows, stabilizing you.

"Shit- my bad."

You looked up seeing the guy holding you sporting a white button-down and an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, those guys just pushed me. Some friends." He said referring to the group of five or so extremely drunk boys behind you.

You shook your head, "No worries, I wasn't paying attention either."

He smiled, leaning a bit closer, hands still on your elbows, "Hey do I know you? You look really familiar.”

You squinted your eyes as you gazed at him, trying to figure out if you knew him.

"Eh I go to Universitat de Barcelona if that helps."

His eyes lit up at your words, and he nodded, "Yeah, that's totally how I know you. I think you're in my biology class."

You groaned, "No way the one at 8 a.m.?", he nodded, "I'm barely awake for that lecture." you muttered.

"Mean either but it's hard not to notice you."

You only heard half his sentence and looked at him confused, "Sorry what?"

His lips tugged up in a smile as he bent down, shifting closer to you, "I said it's hard not to notice you."

You felt your breath stop as you realized what you had gotten yourself into. You made a move to shy away when you heard Gavi call your name.

You lifted your head seeing him approaching as he carried your drink, "Hey who's this?"

You went to interject and tell him it was no one but the guy next to you interrupted, "Hey man, I got to school with her.”

Gavi nodded, accepting his answer as he handed you your drink, "Oh class friend?"

You went to speak but were again cut off by the guy next to you, who had still to let go of your elbow.

"Something like that."

You saw Gavi's posture slightly straighten at his words but he relaxed a second later, "Alright."

The guy turned to you saying something about seeing you in class and then proceeded to give you a hug, his arms wrapping around your lower back.

You noticed Gavi watching the exchange but he made no comment.

You approached him timidly, unsure of if he was going to say anything about the situation, but he paid it no mind, going back to casual conversation with you.

At the time you let out a breath, thankful that he seemed intent on letting you handle your own situation.

That thankfulness soon turned to annoyance and then confusion when similar situations happened time and time again and he made no effort to speak up.

You supposed it was good he never got jealous because you knew it could get very overbearing very fast, and yet, you couldn't help the twinge of defeat you felt every time someone tried to make a move on you and he did nothing to stop them or even show a ounce of emotion.

Slowly it was making you start to question your relationship with Gavi.

Why did he not get jealous? Was it because he didn't see others as a threat? Or didn't feel the need to because you weren't as pretty as the other girls he was seen with? Maybe he simply didn't care? Or perhaps he wasn't the type?

You knew the last one couldn't possibly be true because he was absolutely the type. His entire career was based on his passion, determination, and aggression to get where he wanted. His aggression is what made him so competitive and a loyal player. So if he was so driven and passionate on the field, why was that not carrying over into your relationship?

It wasn't until almost two months later that things came to a boiling point.

It was the last game of the pre-season for Barcelona and spirits were high, everyone hoping they could seal off a great season, and enter a new one, with a win.

The stadium was filled to the brim with fans and reporters. The family section was also full with player's partners and families coming to support them in the final game of the summer.

You were sitting next to Anna, the two of you talking about school, work, and life.

Eventually, the game started and you went into full-on fan mode - cheering along when Barca made impressive plays and booing when they were tackled.

The stadium was abuzz with energy, and you basked in everyone's excitement.

You gripped Anna's hand as you saw Gavi running up the sidelines towards the other team's defense, Joao running parallel to him.

You saw him sidestep, dodging the defender, and suddenly the ball was soaring, perfectly landing at Joao's feet as he placed it into the back of the net.

The two of you jumped up, cheering along with the rest of the crowd. It seemed like Barcelona would have its victory after all.

After the game, you stayed in the family section for a while chatting with Pedri's parents as you waited for the players to make a re-emerge.

You bid goodbye to them when you got a text from Gavi telling you to come down.

You made your way down to the field, waiting behind the barricades for him to appear.

The other team's players appeared first, signing fans t-shirts and taking photos.

"Need something signed?"

You saw a player from the other team approach you, waving a sharpie in his hand.

You pointed at your jersey playfully, "No thanks. I'm a Barca girl if you couldn't tell."

He grinned, "Ahh c'mon what will it take for me to convince you?"

You shrugged your shoulders, "Ride or die sorry."

He clutched his hand to his heart in mock offense, "Ouch. I'm hurt, but I'm not giving up."

You gave him a smile, remaining polite, as you looked over his shoulder for Gavi.

"Oh I know!" he exclaimed, directing your attention back to him.

He wiggled his eyebrows before taking off his shirt, "Here, new jersey for you."

He held it out to you, and you gave him an unimpressed look.

He rolled his eyes playfully, "Alright fine. I'll sign it, but only cause you asked so nicely."

You watched amused as he signed the jersey before offering it to you.

You squinted your eyes at him.

He dangled the jersey in his hands, "C'mon take it. You know a lot of people would pay good money for this."

You reached out to grab it, "Fine, but only because I'm going to sell it later."

He held up his hands in surrender, "It's yours now. Do whatever."

You thought the conversation would end there but he made no effort to leave, "Who are you here with anyway? Someone in Barca?"

You opened your mouth to respond but were cut off.

"Me."

You whipped your head to see that Gavi had silently approached the two of you.

Besides yourself, you felt a tiny part of you waiting with bated breath for him to do something, to finally dig his boots in the ground and say something, but he remained impassive.

"Hey."

"Hey, you ready to go?" Gavi asked.

You nodded your head, unsure of how to leave the situation.

"I can lift you over the barricade if you need." The other player spoke up, and your eyes immediately flitted over to Gavi's to gauge his reaction.

His eyebrows furrowed but he didn't say anything.

You debated for a second, just to get Gavi to react, but quickly decided against it, opting to just walk around the barricade.

You approached the two of them quickly and with a hasty goodbye followed Gavi as he left the pitch. You heard the other player shout a 'see you around', and you waved in response.

You broke the silence first as you walked the empty tunnel, "Great game baby. You did amazing."

"Thanks."

His reply was clipped.

He went to hold your hand and you shifted the jersey last second to your other hand, catching his attention.

"What's that?"

"Oh, that guy gave me his jersey. I'm going to sell it." You explained, telling him how you were expecting to make hundreds.

He listened along till you finished.

"Can I see the jersey?"

You nodded handing it to him.

You swung your joint hands as you walked, talking to him about the game as he examined the jersey.

Abruptly he dropped your hand, mouth set in a firm line.

Your eyebrows stitched together, "What's wrong?"

He cleared his throat before handing you the jersey.

"I think there's something for you on it."

"I forgot something in the locker room, I'll be right back." He continued.

You looked down confused, eyes scanning the text before it clicked.

The jersey had the player's phone number on it.

You lifted your head seeing him already walking away, "Gavi wait. Can you stop for a minute?"

He turned around but continued moving, "Yeah what?"

"Stop moving!” You exclaimed, your frustration building as he continued to not express any interest in the situation.

He finally halted and you closed the distance between the two of you.

"Is there something wrong with me? Do you not like me anymore or something?"

He seemed taken aback by your words and several emotions flitted across his face, "What are you talking about?"

You took a breath, it was now or never.

"I'm not trying to sound conceited, but I'm pretty sure that guy was hitting on me-"

"He was." Gavi confirmed.

You continued, "So then why don't you care? I'm your girlfriend, so why aren't you getting jealous when other guys hit on me?"

"You want me to get jealous?" He asked incredulously.

"I mean I don't want you to become super overprotective or anything, but it would be nice if you at least acknowledged when someone is trying to get with me right in front of you. I know I would get jealous if someone was saying that to you."

"You don't think I get jealous?" His voice had a hard edge to it, and suddenly you felt like you might have read between the lines wrong.

You shrugged your shoulders, unsure, "I mean you don't show it."

"Of course I'm going to notice when some guy is eye fucking my girl one foot away from me, I'm not fucking blind."

"Then why don't you say anything?" You pressed.

“Shit y/n that's cause I don't want to scare you away!"

His admission only confused you further, and you lowered your voice acutely aware that your shouts were probably carrying far in the quiet tunnel,

"Scare me away? Why would that scare me?"

He shook his head, "The press is always making me out to be this bad guy. This kid that doesn't know how to get his temper in check and - mierda y/n - I don't want to get into this right now."

You relented, unwilling to give in, biting the bullet, "Alright so next time someone asks to lift me up, their just being friendly right? Trying to be helpful?"

His eyes blazed, "That's not what I meant and you know it."

You lifted your hands in frustration, "No Gavi actually I don't know that. You act like you don't even care."

"I care! Trust me y/n I care!" He argued.

"Then show me."

His lips were on yours before you had even finished processing what you were saying. His skin felt hot against yours as his fingers sank into your hipbone, crowding you against the wall.

You lost your train of thought as you got lost in the sensation he provided you. One hand went to tangle in his hair, as the other draped around his neck bringing him impossibly closer.

One of his hands slipped under your shirt, as he kissed you senseless. You finally pulled away for a breath but he didn't stop, moving to lay a trail of kisses from the sweet spot behind your ear, down your neck, and onto your collarbone.

You left out a soft moan underneath him, the feeling causing tingles in your spine, and a fluttery feeling in your stomach.

"We should really sto- fuck gavi - so-someone could walk in any moment." You reminded him.

"Just gotta leave a mark." He replied.

You nodded before his words caught up to you and you pushed him off, "What? No marks! I have to meet your parents tonight." You whined.

He grinned, not looking the least bit apologetic, "At least people will know you're mine now."

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bwabys-scenarios · 6 months

Text

I want you to eat well

Vampire!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: Kurapika eats you out while you’re on your period, rough sex, creampie, breeding

A/N: I posted this in my discord months ago, if you want more content come join!! Here’s the link

taglist: @desiray562 @lovelyxkazuha @ashdownunderscorebeloved

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Kurapika was attacked by humans and fled into the forest. He collapses near a cottage he thinks is abandoned, but it’s yours!

You walk out and just panic!! There’s a bleeding man by the treeline!!

You rush out, and all he can think is how easy it would be to pin you down and drain you dry. He assumes you’re there to finish the job, so prepares to strike… that is until he sees you crying.

“Oh my god, are you okay? I’m going to help you, just stay conscious, okay?”

He blinks. Do you see that he has red eyes? Fangs? That he’s cold to the touch and his blood is almost black? No, you don’t. You’re too busy half carrying, half dragging this man into your house.

He doesn’t think he’s ever been treated so gently before, not even when he was human. You sit him down, pushing back his hair to wash off his face with a rag before bandaging his(slowly healing) wounds. He can’t help but sigh dreamily when you tuck him into your bed, humming as you watch over him.

“What is your name, girl?”

You tilt your head. He’s the same age as you, you think, why is he calling you a girl. “Oh, I’m (Name).”

“(Name)? That’s beautiful.”

You can’t help your cheeks heating up, going about your task of preparing a meal. He’s very handsome, almost alluring.

Over the next few days, your guest doesn’t eat a single bite of food, and you notice he seems to be getting weaker. He still hasn’t given you his name, you’ve started calling him “dear”.

“Hello, dear. Are you feeling hungry today?”

He’s sitting up in bed, a bandage wrapped around his head. He gives you that pretty smile, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “I’m sorry, (Name), but I cannot eat anything you make me.”

That’s what he says every time. You pout, sitting on the bed next to him. “Come on, there has to be something I can make you! I’m no stranger to cooking!”

He sighs. You’re sweet, awfully kind to a man that had planned to end your life before he got to know you. “No, what I need is something you cannot provide.”

You leave after changing his bandages, cooing softly. “Aww, you’re almost healed! You’ve been such a nice guest, I’ll miss you when you leave…”

The mentioning of him leaving makes him tense. This brief time with you has been some of the best of his life.

The next few days pass by, and you come in that morning with a grimace on your face. “Hello, dear. Sorry I’m late, I’m… unwell.”

“Unwell?”

Your guest seems worried, his hand lifting to cup your cheek. “What is it that ails you, (Name)?”

And before you can answer, a heavenly aroma fills the air.

Blood.

Kurapika feels his fangs dig into his lip as he holds himself back from pouncing on you.

“Well… um…” you seem flustered, and he finds it cute how you fidget with your pajama shirt, glancing up at him. “It’s my time of the month.”

Instead of looking disgusted or embarrassed he seems… intrigued.

He gestures for you to sit with with. “You mean… you’re currently bleeding?”

You’re embarrassed to be talking about this to basically a stranger, but you nod.

He hums, red eyes taking your form in hungrily. Kurapika was a virgin, a man that had lived far away from society since he was turned into a vampire at the age of 23. He hadn’t been around a woman in a long time, and he had to admit, he had been feeling some… urges.

He places a hand on your thigh, eyes half lidded as he stares at you. “You know, (Name), I do find you… quite gorgeous.”

Your face heats up, your legs rubbing against each other. He smirks, knowing women are more sensitive during their menstrual cycle.

“O-oh. That’s sweet of you to say.”

You pat his hand, giving him that pretty smile of yours. You get up to move, but his iron grip on your thigh keeps you still.

“This may sound a bit forward of me, but I have to ask. Have you ever lain with a man before?”

You stare at him slack jawed, face hot. “L-lain… do you mean sex?”

He nods, tilting his head. “Your answer?”

“N-no. I have not.”

He hums, eyes staring in between your legs so intensely you cross them.

“Would you like to?”

He’s having trouble controlling himself, the blanket falling down around him as he crawls towards you, those pretty red eyes staring into yours. It’s hard to look away, especially when he’s inching closer and closer to your lips.

“You’re cute, and such a sweet girl. Would you mind if I… tasted you?”

His cheeks are pink, eyes half lidded as he sniffs your neck, before leaning back and placing a kiss on your lips.

He’s gentle, lips cold against yours as he pins you with ease. You don’t complain, wrapping your arms around him as he shoves his tongue into your mouth.

“At least… at least tell me your name before this goes any further…”

You pout up at him, the man almost cooing with how cute you are.

“It’s Kurapika. I hope you’ll remember it, (Name).”

You nod. “Kurapika… that’s such a pretty name, I’ve never heard one like it before.”

He pulls your shirt over your head, eyes on your bare chest. “It’s a cultural name, one from a clan long forgotten.”

He kneads your breasts, marveling at the softness of them. “Soft, and so warm…”

You hiss slightly as his cold hands slip down your body, until they’re pulling down your pajama pants. “H-hey! Wait! I’m-“

“I know, (Name). You being on your menstrual cycle is the exact reason I want this.”

He pulls off your pants and panties in one go, cooing at the sight in front of him.

“How delicious.”

You squeeze your legs shut, eyes gone wide. “D-delicious? How could this b…”

He glances up at you with those red eyes, resting his chin against your knee. “You know, I find your innocence rather adorable, but I’ll clue you in, angel.”

He extends his fangs, a little confused when instead of reacting with fear, you react with acceptance. “Ahhh, okay, that makes sense.”

He doesn’t question your strange statement, now prying open your legs with ease.

“Now that you know, will you let me feed? This could really help me feel better, (Name).”

He kisses your thigh, his red eyes boring into yours. You pout a little, but cup his cheek. He leans into your touch, surprised at his own actions. “I guess… if it’ll help you feel better…”

You don’t need to say another word, he’s already burying his face between your legs.

At first he devours any blood he can get his tongue on. When he runs out, he realizes he’ll need to really put in the effort to make you secrete more.

He glances up to watch for your reaction when he swirls his tongue around your clit, earning a gasp. Kurapika blinks when your hands bury themselves in his hair, pulling him in the right direction. “K-Kurapika!”

He purrs against you, pumping a finger in and out of your bloody cunt as he sucks on your clit. “Like that, angel?”

He’s almost embarrassed at how hard he’s gotten from hearing your moans and feeling your fingers tug at his hair. “Yes! More please!”

And he gives you more, inserting another finger. “You’re delicious, (Name). If I knew a woman’s menstrual blood tasted this good, I would have done this much sooner…”

You whimper, pouting down at him. “W-well I’m glad it’s with me first…”

“Oh, (Name)…”

He pulls his fingers from your cunt, licking them clean. “I intend for you to be the only woman I ever feed from like this.”

This makes both your pussy and heart thump. “Really? Hahh!”

You don’t have much time to think, his tongue is already inside of you again. Now he’s tongue fucking you as he rubs circles into your clit.

“Those pretty little sounds of yours have my body reacting in such embarrassing ways, (Name)…”

He looks up at you again, blood dripping down his chin. “Would it be alright if I took your virginity, (Name)? I’m a creature of the night, would you lay with me, knowing that?”

You nod, running your fingers through his hair. “Yes… you may be a vampire, b-but I-“

You gasp, feeling his tongue wiggle inside of you. “I know you’re a- hnn… a good man!”

He almost feels his undead heart thump against his chest. You’re making him swoon, and it’s not just your sweet blood he’s craving.

He has you cumming on his tongue, surprised on how much he enjoys the taste of your cum mixed with blood.

He wipes the blood from his chin, crawling on top of you. “My sweet girl, so warm…”

You feel his cock prod against you, your hips bucking against him. “P-put it in please! Need you!”

You’re so needy, tears beading at the corners of your eyes as he coos. “Shhh, shh, you’ll have what you want soon. You’ve been such a good girl, allowing me to feed to my hearts content. I’ll take care of you, alright?”

You nod, the blonde satisfied with your obedience. He prods his cock against your cunt, delighting in the fact that your blood makes it easier for him to slide in.

You gasp when he bottoms out, legs wrapping around his waist. He stays like that for just a moment before pulling all the way out and slamming back in.

He takes you like an animal, pounding into your pussy until you see stars. He tries so hard to be gentle, but his head has gone fuzzy with pleasure.

You don’t seem to mind though, you pull him into a kiss, causing him to come back to reality and melt into your embrace, his hips smacking against yours.

He glances down, dipping a finger to your cunt, lapping up the blood that collected on his finger.

“So so pretty, angel. So pretty when I fuck into you like this…”

His fangs brush against your neck, but he doesn’t bite you. No no no, he won’t do that. Not to his now mate. No, he’ll only drink from your pussy, a taste he would soon become addicted to.

When he cums inside you, he doesn’t pull out for a while. He’s not sure if he’s still able to produce children, but if he can, he wishes to get you pregnant, and soon. Though, he’ll be upset when his favorite snack isn’t available for nine months.

Kurapika pulls you into his arms, keeping you plugged up with his cock. “Tonight, I will take you again and again, so rest for now, my love.”

He plants kisses on your neck, before resting his chin on your head.

He’s so sweet, waking up and cooking you a healthy, iron rich meal. It’s not JUST because he wants you to produce as much blood for him as possible. No, Kurapika has fallen in love, and he’s not letting you go anytime soon.

You’re his now, his mate, his lover, his.

“Kurapika…”

You stumble into the kitchen, body weak and tired from his rough thrusting. He rushes over to settle you down into a chair, cupping your cheek. “What is it my love? Was I too rough? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head. “No, no I’m just really hungry, that smells amazing!”

He sighs. “I’m glad you are alright. I may not be able to eat human food, but cooking is something I am efficient with.”

He sets an omelette in front of you, paired with rice. “It’s a spinach omelette. Enjoy, angel.”

He watches you eat from across the table, absolutely smitten.

He follows you around throughout the day, watching as you do various chores. Now that he’s… fed from you, he has more energy to help, though he can’t go outside due to the sun.

“My love, is it strange that I am excited for night to come? I must admit I am desperate for another taste of you…”

He has you sat in his lap, nose brushing against your neck. He seems to enjoy your scent, constantly shoving his nose into your neck.

“No, it’s okay, I want you to eat well. I care about you.”

His leg bounces, his excitement evident. “Truly? It is not wrong for me to feel this way? To want you in this way?”

He doesn’t seem to have noticed that he’s bouncing you on his leg, causing your face to heat up.

He nuzzles into your neck again placing sweet kisses. “I love you, I apologize for not saying it sooner, but I feared your rejection. You’re a beautiful woman, and I feel I may now need you.”

You can barely hear him, breasts bouncing slightly at the intensity of his movements. “Hhhnn, Kurapika.”

He sniffs the air, tilting his head. “You’re aroused? Why?”

He glances down to see his leg is between your legs, knee pressing against your pussy as he bounces you up and down. “Oh.”

He grins against your neck, the feeling of his fangs brushing against your skin making you mewl. “Oh? Is my angel too needy to wait for tonight?”

Kurapika’s head stays between your legs for the next few hours, being thoroughly fed by his precious mate!

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sebsbarnes · 3 months

Text

phantom pain || pietro maximoff

pietro maximoff x reader

summary: i'm jealous of the rain that falls upon your skin, it's closer than my hands have been

warnings: insecurities, none really?? (i think)

word count: 2.9k+ ; angst, comfort

masterlist

a/n: this is a rewrite of a bucky fic i wrote 6 years ago but now much longer, better, and for pietro. sorry for grammar/editing mistakes that are prob here but still enjoy

pietro knew you had been hiding something. he had known you for three years and had been dating you for almost two. over the course of the months and weeks spent with the other he had grown accustomed to your silent cues. the silence that would consume you when tony's party carried on too late and you desperately wished to exit or when you performed poorly during training and steve berated you with tips. but mostly the silence that would linger around you when you were alone. not all the time, no, but there were times when pietro could feel and see the physical shift in your body language.

he never wanted to pry not as a friend or a boyfriend. pietro understood that every avenger has a past life, one that the others are unaware of. though he loved playing back the memories of his childhood and his parents, he too would shift into a silent shell of a person and he would want nothing more than to be left alone and not questioned. pietro loved the abilities he had but some days he wondered whether the extreme heat of his body or the slow-moving world around him actually made him sad. life was no longer normal, his body was no longer normal, nothing was normal.

this is exactly how you felt. the tragedies in your life were sometimes unbearable and if you could disappear you would but you had so much to be thankful for. if it wasn't for the accident you wouldn't be an avenger, you wouldn't have the friends you have, you wouldn't experience even half of what you've had now, and you wouldn't have pietro, the love of your life. at the end of the day you were alive and more than often, incredibly happy.

but there were those times you fell into silence over your newfound life, mainly the consequences of the accident. your memory still struggled, you were weak for a very long time, and when the weather got too cold you could feel the ache in your bones. you weren't like the rest of the avengers who possessed special abilities or were highly skilled in combat. three and a half years ago you were a normal person. you had a normal life, job, family, and friends, up until the accident. and every day the phantom pain reminds you of what was taken.

it was winter when you first met all the avengers. they all lived together and after you recovered from the accident, tony wanted you here, to live here. you protested the idea for a while claiming that tony's generosity was far too much. he had already saved you from the accident and offering a space to live and a job was incredulous, but after much debate you agreed. that first day you silently sat in the corner of the room while all the avengers had a meeting. you swayed back and forth in the rolling chair, taking in the information and occasionally stealing glances at a silver-haired man.

"and this is (y/n)!," tony exclaimed, "our newest friend here so please for the love of god be kind during the acclamation period. i'm already prematurely greying and i don't need anymore."

the meeting was over and one by one the avengers came to greet you, offering their names and welcomes and soon the silver-haired man approached you.

pietro stuck his hand out to shake yours. he found it odd that despite the room being almost swelteringly hot from the heater, you still had your gloves on.

"i'm pietro."

it was about three weeks later you found yourself sitting with pietro, clint, steve, and natasha. everyone was sitting on the couch talking about whatever topic you possibly could conjure up. there was a lull in conversation before clint spoke up.

"hey," he said turning towards you, "why do you have gloves on?"

it was as if clint never spoke and without missing a beat you stood up, looking down at pietro, "wanna help me finish building my desk?"

pietro hesitated a moment, eyes flickering over to clint, "of course."

pietro had come to learn not to question why you covered your hands in those first few months. any mention of you hiding them was never met with an answer. he was protective of you and he felt himself falling for you each day, and you the same. the two of you did a lot together, you cooked, clean, went out, watched movies, almost everything together and you loved it. it felt like home here and pietro felt like home.

it was a big dinner, the night you finally took your gloves off. there was no special reason why, to be frank, you just decided to no longer be embarrassed.

"c'mon kid we all got something weird about us. i play in a suit all day, cap runs around in tights, pietro is faster than the speed of light, and parker shoots webs... from his hands!" tony ranted on.

you sighed, "i know. i just feel weird on top of this because i am still new here."

"we all have been new," tony started, inspecting your hands one final time, "no one will judge you, kid, but take it at your own pace. you don't owe anyone nothing. well, maybe except me," he winked.

only two hours later you were all seated at the big table with everyone to eat. from tony, to pietro, to thor, to natasha, to sam, everyone was here. next to you was tony and rhodey, pietro across from you pulling funny faces while the food was served out. you fidgeted with your fingers in your lap trying to stall picking up the fork and knife. everyone had started eating and chatting amongst the group when you finally lifted your arms to the table and started cutting into the chicken.

pietro watched as you shifted in your seat, your forearms coming to rest on the white cloth and your fingers wrapping around the fork and knife. the first time he has ever seen your hands.

your metal hands.

after that night there were murmurs throughout the crew about the state of your hands. people were confused why someone who led a normal life ended up with metal hands, similar to bucky's arm. the word accident had floated through the air but you never commented on it.

winter had turned into spring that ended all too quickly and now it was the dead of summer. the day was slow and pietro was bored and craving movement. his head was hanging over the arm of the couch, his silver hair hung to the floor.

"want to get ice cream?" he asked.

"it's like you read my mind," you grinned swiping your wallet off the counter.

you and pietro wandered around town aimlessly before stopping at the ice cream shop. he admired the way you threw your head back in laughter and the way you covered your mouth when he said something outlandish. even though pietro's body ran warm he could feel the increasing heat spread throughout his cheeks each time you shot him a smile and his name rolled off your lips.

in an instant, he thought he ruined it all when he reached out and wrapped his fingers in yours. he felt your fingers twitching and the way you misstepped.

"i'm sorry," accent thick as he retracted his hand.

you smiled softly at him before gently grabbing his hand, "don't be."

it was that day over a hot fudge sundae that you told pietro what had happened. it was a horrible car accident early in the winter before you met the avengers. there were several cars and buses involved. not only did you lose your hands that day but your family. tony was also in this accident, his car had actually collided with yours, though his vehicle wasn't the one that caused your injuries. he had rushed to help you and immediately took on a parental role when he observed the condition of everyone else in the car. you were bruised and bloody with several fractured bones, but mainly, every bone in both your hands were shattered beyond repair. tony took you to his doctors where you all came to the difficult decision that your hands had to go, but tony offered you a solution. to replace the once skin and bones with metal.

pietro listened the entire time letting you go on and on to which you apologized for being boring. 'no dragă' he would whisper and you continued on with his thumb running over your knuckles. the gesture comforted you but the voice in the back of your head nagged that it was out of pity.

the months began to fly past faster than you could imagine. you and pietro were inseparable. anytime the members walked past the two of you they'd fake gag or pretend to cry. once wanda had muttered under her breath how she never thought pietro would actually date someone. you would only get shy over it and pietro found it amusing and would pinch at your cheeks. it was only when the two of you officially started dating when pietro would notice the different type of silence you'd fall into.

he would sometimes catch you sitting on the edge of your bed staring at your hands the features on your face contorted with disgust.

"what is the matter?" he questioned.

"oh nothing," you sighed with a fake smile, placing your hands beside you.

or the times pietro noticed the way you hesitated before touching him.

"am i that scary dragă?" pietro joked with a sickly smile.

your features would soften and the lines between your brows disappeared, "the most terrifying," you winked.

or the times pietro saw the way you gazed at other people's hands when they came into contact with pietro.

"doesn't his hair look good like this?" wanda asked you as she finished braiding her brother's hair. the two of them looking at you in the mirror.

you didn't respond right away. you were too distracted watching the way her fingers weaved their way through his silver hair and grazed his scalp while pulling hair into its pattern. with the most pitiful smile, you responded.

"amazing."

pietro knew that eventually, you would confide in him over the way you viewed your hands. he didn't want to overstep, that wasn't the relationship the two of you had. the late nights pietro spent shaking under the blankets from nightmares, you never asked him. you held him close to you and hummed a small tune to calm him down and you did that every night without fail. one day over breakfast he finally confided in you over the terrors that haunted his dreams.

what pietro didn't expect was that today on your second anniversary was the day you would finally scream your frustrations out. the two of you weren't doing anything special and nor did you want to. all the avengers insisted you at least leave home and do something for a little while. that's why you found yourselves lazily walking around a park, hand-in-hand, arms swinging and shoulders bumping. the sound of laughter echoed through the park and you swore the leaves shook. you were happy, beyond happy. pietro and you were madly in love and there wasn't one thing you could wish for, maybe.

suddenly the wind picked up and the dark clouds rolled above and unleashed raindrops that were nearly the size of baseballs.

"oh my god!" you squealed.

"it is so cold!" pietro laughed loudly.

you were squinting through the pouring rain, your hair and clothes plastered to your skin, pietro was dancing around in a circle with his tongue out in hopes of catching the water. pietro grabbed onto your forearms pulling you into him.

"you look so cute right now," he yelled over the thunderous rain.

"don't be silly! i look like a mess!" you giggled slightly swatting at his chest.

pietro leaned in and kissed you on the cheek. his smile growing wider as if his mouth was a plant and the rain was helping it grow. his fingers brushed the hair out of your face and kissed you once more on the forehead.

"there's so many droplets on your lashes!" you exclaimed. pietro watched your lips pull into a smile. the sun wasn't out but he could've been fooled by the way your eyes shined at him. he watched as you lifted your hand to brush the droplets off, and then suddenly, it all changed.

pietro watched as your smile dropped into parted lips of disgust and shame, your eyebrows pulled together in the middle, and rain was no longer the only thing running down your face. you faltered in your step backward and pietro reached out to steady you but you pulled back further. it was like you were a toy and your batteries had just run out you were so still.

"b-baby what is wrong?" the worried etched onto his face was almost painful.

"i'm jealous," you cried, your bottom lip shaking violently.

pietro shook his head, "my love what is going on? you are worrying me."

you lifted your hands in front of your face, your eyes trailed down every finger and across your palm to the back of your hand. the small metal panels almost mocking you as you could see your eyes reflect back at you. at this moment pietro started to piece together all the instances in the past.

"i can't feel you," you wallowed, "i can't feel your skin, pietro. my hands!" he watched as you stretched your arms out to show him your hands as if he'd never seen them before.

"i'm envious of everything that can feel you! the rain, your clothes, everyone else, but not me, i can't! do you know how badly i want to feel the texture of your hair or the tears you cry or-or the skin on your lips and i can't! i crave the feeling of you and i'll never get to know that. i want to feel the plastic of a pen or grass between my fingers or the calluses of training too hard and i'll never get that again. the phantom pain i have will never be as painful as never being able to hold you with my real hands."

as your cries grew louder the storm cleared up to let you have the stage. you stood in front of pietro as the shell of the person he would see those times you were alone silently observing your hands. even though he wasn't the one yelling, he felt as if his own vocal chords were being shredded, he could feel the chambers in his heart slowly start to shut down one by one, and the burn in his eyes was almost blinding.

he slowly stepped towards you cautious not to make you jerk backwards again. the tears in each of your eyes seemed to sync up and roll down together. pietro gently grabbed your hand, grateful that you let him, and held it to his cheek.

"this, my love, this is me. this is the me that only you will know and no one else. it is not the same as everyone else but different much like us," he said gently, his other hand gesturing between your bodies, "if i could do anything in the world, no matter the cost, to help with your hands i would and i am so sorry i cannot," pietro was now holding your face in his hands.

"but i want you to know i love you for everything that you are and i always will. no matter what the future has in store for us, in my heart, you will always be first. and- and i know there are other reasons why you dislike your hands but i never want to be the reason that you dislike something about yourself. maybe i can talk to mr. stark, yeah?" he pondered nodding his head rapidly, "maybe we can figure something out and give your hands an upgrade. maybe he knows someone?"

you sniffled, looking lovingly at pietro who was trying to think of any possibility even though you both had discussed in the past that there was nothing that could be done for your hands. that day tony saved you was the best opportunity you could get to help your hands and nothing in the world could beat it.

"i love you so much pietro, you are everything i could ask for in a boyfriend and more," you spoke, resting your face further into his hands.

pietro ran his hands across your shoulders and down your arms to hold onto your wrists. he brought your hand up to his face and placed a delicate kiss to your fingertips until all ten were loved. pietro pulled you into a hug, one palm resting flat against your spine and the other holding the back of your head. you leaned into his chest and let your ear listen to the thump of his heart. the two of you stood there motionless. minutes passed by and neither of you dared to move. to an unobservant eye, you two could've passed as a statue. two lovers forever memorialized in the dusk of the sky, the rain puddles collecting at your feet, and a love story forever admired over.

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chosos-mascara · 1 year

Text

you shouldn't

𝙩𝙤𝙟𝙞 𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙤 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - arriving at toji's home after a break-up, you decide to finally make a move.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - age gap (reader is mid-20s, toji is late 40s), sex, some angst but resolved, fingering, teasing, petnames, no mentions of birth control, dom!toji, dilf!toji

minors + ageless dni 4k words

"What're ya doing here, kid?" Toji was dishevelled, a bath robe tied loosely around his waist, chest open to reveal a few scars behind the silk. Your eyes were puffy, swollen from tears, lips bloated and peeling, a few marks from where you'd bitten the soft skin a little too much. A state you hadn't wanted him to see, but one he'd answered the door to nonetheless, much to your embarrassment.

"He broke up with me." The sentence left you with reluctance, eyes unable to meet his, instead trailing down to meet the indentations of pink painted on his skin, a mark you knew had been the result of a previous job. Toji sighed and stepped back, opening his door wider to accommodate you, though not before shooting you a disapproving look. "Told ya it wouldn't last." He couldn't help but to scold you for mistakes, no matter how much you'd been hurt in the process. Though, this was new - you hadn't turned up to his home through tears before.

"I trusted him," A sob racked over you as you'd explained, the warmth inside his hall kissing your cold cheeks. "I don't know why. They're all the same." The final words were quieter as you sniffled back another cry, shaking your head. "You keep lettin' these guys fuck with ya. 's your own fault." His voice was a little muffled; you'd understood he had been bringing a cigarette to lips and lighting it with the way the sentence had left the curve of a half open mouth. "Thought he was different, Toj'." You glanced up to him, sporting the usual puppy-dog eyes - the sole reason Toji couldn't turn you away. His social battery was lower than most, though when it'd come to you, his tolerance had increased. There was something about the way you'd looked at him, your mannerisms, and the fact he'd known you'd needed him. Even if you hadn't explicitly told him, Toji understood he was a big part of your life.

He'd been your father's friend - not that you'd spent much time with the man himself; a business partner. Toji hadn't thought himself as a good dad, often leaving Megumi for extended periods of time, but when he'd met an eighteen-year-old you over dinner with the old man, he'd realised his parenting had been award-winning compared to his associate's. Your relationship with Toji had been purely business related at first, beginning a career under the family's sector as his secretary, and through pity, the black-haired male had taken time out of his day to look out for you. You'd play back, and he'd appreciate your witty responses, eventually looking forward to the grin greeting him before he'd step into his office. It had been a number of years ago now, and something had bloomed between the pair of you.

Toji had assumed you'd seen him as a parental figure - he'd been in his late forties while you still in the midst of twenties, a large age gap according to him. Though after a few drinks at the work's Christmas party he'd been dragged to, he'd been met with a confession from yourself - "I used to have a pretty big crush on you." One he found himself remembering late at night, pondering over what would have happened if in that moment, he would've made a move. But, that had been a year ago, and you'd seen multiple people within that time frame - all of which Toji had hated.

Though, he needn't worry about them because after a month or so, they'd drop like flies. You hadn't been able to figure out why, though indulging in the positiveness Toji would offer to you after break-ups, spilling gossip to him in the break-room and basking in the odd compliment of your character he'd fish out in an attempt to aid your sadness. He'd figured out long ago that the reason had been down to your mental state, and the damage caused over the years by your environment. The male had figured that the men looking for a fling hadn't the emotional capacity to support you, and at times, he wasn't sure he'd be able to either.

"Can we watch a movie, or something?" You questioned, bringing the back of your hand to rub away the tears that had accumulated over your face, glancing back to the male. Toji nodded, exhaling smoke and gesturing to his attire - or lack thereof. "Ain't doing shit in this, let me get dressed." The male moved toward the wooden staircase in the hall beside you, placing a foot on the first step before turning back to add to the previous sentence. "Wanna change? Get somethin' comfy on - I don't know what girls like to wear 'n shit."

A laugh escaped tired lips, appreciating the thought he'd had, a gracious nod followed by eager footsteps. Following the male upstairs, you waited outside of the door you'd understood had belonged to his bedroom, listening to the muted noises of movement as he'd rummaged through drawers, pulling a cotton tee and a pair of pyjama bottoms up to study. They'd looked a little too large for you, but with the draw-string, he was sure they'd be good enough. The new outfit had been thrown over his half-bent arm while he'd met you back at the door-frame, stretching the limb out to offer you the fabric. Reaching forward and wrapping fingers around the garments, your skin grazed the silk of his dressing-gown, warmth radiating through the thin attire to bestow heat onto your hand. You'd lingered a little longer than needed, feeling an emptiness once more as his presence left you.

You brought the clothing with you into his bathroom, sliding-door closed behind you for privacy. It had only taken a few moments to change, the newly acquired outfit smelling just like the man you'd taken it from - it had been likely the garments had been left unwashed after he'd worn them last. A large mirror sat above the sink, one you'd glanced over to admire the clothes over your body. The old tee-shirt was baggy, trousers too, hiding your figure in a slightly unflattering way, yet your chest had still tightened as fingers traced over the creases, a warmth within you knowing these had been worn by him.

Toji had been sat wide-legged on the old couch, eyes lingering over you as you'd entered the room. The sensation he'd felt rising through him had been unusual, a fluttering within his stomach, one he'd attempted to push away as he'd removed his gaze from you, hoping the thoughts at the forefront of his mind would subside so he could get through the evening without initiating something the pair of you would come to regret.

"You looked at me funny." The timid voice coming from beside him as you'd seated yourself had caused a strained sigh to leave his lips. He'd wished you'd push your curiosity aside and ignore the tension between the pair of you, something you'd seemingly done with ease when you'd been dating your last fling. Toji was a little too old for you - not to mention a business associate with your father. If the asshole found out he'd fucked his daughter, it'd be over. "Nah, I didn't." Denial, that was something Toji had done often.

"Do I look that bad?" You'd laughed while asking, though there had been a twang of pain with the question. It was easy to understand he wouldn't appreciate you in the state you'd arrived in, though you'd hoped there was a chance he'd see a natural beauty through the midst of tears, or now, in clothing two sizes too big. "You look pretty." The response had his cheeks warming up, face tilting away from your line of sight after the last word had left his mouth. The man beside you hadn't been affectionate, and wouldn't start now.

The compliment had caused a grin to spread eagerly across lips, though with Toji's line of sight aimed at the television before you, he hadn't noticed the consequence of the sheepish words he'd spoken. A late night talk show had been showcased before you, the host talking with an A-list celebrity, though it had been difficult to focus on the screen. With Toji's legs spread apart, his right knee had rested against yours, back slumped against the cushions behind him. His face ahd been painted with his usual tired scowl, eyes half open.

It was possible your heightened emotions following the conflict you'd faced earlier had caused a small misjudgement, though you'd been aware of the feelings you'd had toward the male, finally feeling a surge of confidence. There had been some contemplation with your actions before you'd executed the desire, a question of whether the activity soon to follow Toji zoning out before the television had been appropriate - it hadn't. Yet, the fight within your mind hadn't been able to stop you leaning forward, wrapping fingers idly under the hairs kissing his neck, pressing his lips to yours.

You held your lips against his for a moment, awaiting a reaction before continuing. Initially, there had been a jolt of surprise, his palm meeting your shoulder, but following the small movements he'd remained still. There was a weak push, causing you to shift backward, breaking the kiss. Eyes fluttering open, heart beating, you looked at the man wide eyed, the taste of ciagrettes on your lips.

"What're you doing?" His questioning tone had been gruff, eyebrows furrowed with annoyance, yet you could tell from his body language he'd wanted to continue. "I-" You inhaled, face only inches from his, breath fanning over wettened lips. "I really like you." The child-like confession was spoken as a whisper, imagining the scolding words that were about to leave his lips, because even if Toji had felt the same way, there would be an inner-conflict on whether he'd felt he deserved it.

"You shouldn't." He was quiet, soft timbre from his throat, dismissing the admission. Though as his features moved closer to yours, he'd allowed his actions to counteract his head, closing the gap between you to taste you once more. The motions against one another had been gentle, as if testing the waters.

Toji's tongue slid along yours, exploring your mouth while he'd kissed you, hands caressing your body before settling over your hips. He'd squeezed over the fat as he pulled you toward him, your legs widening to allow yourself room to straddle his lap. Breathing heavy, you maintained the slurry of sloppiness against him, fingers clutching tightly over the hairs at the back of his head, a groan tumbling from him to show appreciation to the action.

Your hand fell to the waistband of the jogging-bottoms he'd been wearing, fingers hooking the hem to pull lightly at the fabric, an indication of what you'd wanted. Pushing his hips upward, he'd allowed the movement, hard dick freed from the confides of the cloth prison. Mirroring the display, the pyjama bottoms he'd gifted you had been removed, cock lined at your dripping cunt before you'd sunk down, a gasp as you'd felt yourself stretch over his size. Toji hissed, throwing his head back while tightening his hands over your sides, as if to offer some stability.

"Fuck, baby." The voice erupting from the male's chest had been one you'd dreamed of, so breathless and hoarse, a demonstration of the pleasure he'd felt through the movement of your hips. "Feels s' good." You uttered words of appraisal, hands on each of his shoulders to aid in the bobbing movement, messy sounds gushing from between the pair for your thighs. Toji pushed upward, pulling you down in order to bottom out, a whimper falling from your lips at the fullness. Both chests rising and falling at an increased rate, hums cascading from parted lips, Toji brought his head forward, eyes watching intently while you'd bounced on his cock. The way he'd fixated his gaze on you had felt invasive, stare hardened, pupils blown-out from lust. His attention sent a throb between your legs, swollen clit making friction upon his waist with each languish movement.

"Wanted to do this f'r so long-" The deceleration had barely been articulated through whines, thighs shaking from the strenuous activity. You were sure he'd feel the tremble as his hands dropped to sit on your legs, though if he had, he'd been unfazed, simply appreciating the effort. A squeeze of his grip, jolt of his hips followed by a groan had signalled his release, eyes squeezing closed. Toji hadn't often looked at peace, weighed down by the stress of running a business, and having a teenage son, yet during this moment, his expression relaxing through post-orgasm bliss, he had looked calm.

You leaned forward, placing a haphazard kiss against his forehead, hands embracing both sides of his face. Green eyes peered up to your fatigued expression, guilt painted over his countenance, though the nervousness his appearance had given you was pushed down with the hopes of what was to come from the encounter.

"I don't think this should happen again." After holding you close and eventually making your way to his bedroom, the words Toji had spoken while gripping his morning coffee had been the last you'd wished to hear. He took a sip, allowing the statement to brew within your unexpectant mind, panic setting across you. Grimacing, he tore his sight from the kitchen floor to the mug, a reluctant swallow of the liquid before inspecting the coffee machine responsible for the beverage. A large hand flicked the switch on the side, displaying his realisation the machine had been set to cold, pouring the unwanted coffee into the sink before placing the cup back down, whirring filling the thick atmosphere as a second drink had been prepared for him. A situation that, before he'd spoken the short sentence, would have been comical to watch. Now, it had only felt uncomfortable to sit through, pitying the old man's display.

"Why?" You questioned desperately, dropping your gaze to the granite breakfast bar you'd been propped up against, hands holding your chin for support. An attempt to remain calm through the encounter had you consciously breathing in, and out, controlling the amount of oxygen entering your lungs, though with this manual movement, you'd felt more breathless than if you'd allowed your body's natural response. "It's not right." Toji spoke, morning voice still low, eyes drooping from fatigue. You'd wodnered if he'd slept at all by the state before you, the man's conscience had been worst than most - odd considering the fact he'd come across as egotistical and blunt. When involving friends and family, there had been something deep-rooted within him, most likely due to a past encounter that had been unknown to you. Pride, and loyalty, had been meaningful.

"Look, kid." He began, an elongated exhale had signified his lack of desire for debate, mug now placed on the counter beside him, fingers instead pressing to his temple. "I'm old enough to be your dad. I know your old man ain't shit, but I don't wanna defy him either. Imagine he finds out we're foolin' around." Green eyes failed to meet you as he looked to the other corner of the kitchen, and you were left to wonder if he'd shared feelings with you, or had been unable to accept them.

The thought of either hadn't been comforting. Toji had been the person you'd trusted for the last handful-or-so of years, a person you'd consider a friend. His rejection would mean an alteration in the dynamic you'd shared, something you'd been unprepared for. "So, you just used me?" The accusation fell from your mouth, anger bubbling through the anxieties you'd felt, thinking back to the night you'd shared, a vulnerability you'd allowed him to see. "What're you talkin' about? You came onto me-" His voice was raised, hand slamming against the counter beside him as his face contorted in annoyance. "You could've said no!" Matching the tone he'd served to you, you stood, the chair once housing you now pushed backward with the momentum that indignation had brought you. "I've loved you for years, Toji." His name had your voice breaking, frown trembling with emotion, vision blurring through tears. The fact he'd been like every other male you'd been involved with over the past few years had broken your heart deeper than any pain you'd felt, disappointment in the cracks of your mind.

"Told ya last night - you shouldn't." There was a pain across his features, one that had been difficult to interpret through your own emotion. "Because, you're scared?" The question was faint, voice soft as you stepped toward him. His arms crossed over his chest, eyes rolling at the behaviour you'd conducted, unwilling to confront how he'd truly felt. "I ain't scared - god, you're such a brat." Another strained sigh had escaped his chest, Toji shaking his head. "I haven't dated since-" He paused, eyes leaving yours to flicker up to the ceiling in thought, reminiscing on the past. "Since Megumi's mother. I'm not fit to be a boyfriend or whatever shit you've got planned." The admission had your eyes tearing up, a stray tear rolling down your heated cheeks. Reaching a hand forward, you met his face, brushing over the stubble protruding his skin, prickling your finger-tips. Though, you ignored the roughness to bring his face closer to yours, a kiss planted on his parted lips. When it had come to Toji, you were willing to stand up to him, understanding the defence mechanism he'd developed of pushing those he'd cared of away, as if to protect them.

"I just want you." The four words spoken had been enough consolation. Toji pressed forward, bringing his hands to cup both cheeks as he pushed into you, an increase in passion as your lips danced with one another. A kiss unlike the ones shared the night before - years of friendship, of guidance, support, transferred between the pair of you as a reminder of the moments you'd shared.

Hands moved to cup one another's bodies, his gliding beneath the fabric of the shirt he'd given you to feel the curves beneath, lifting the hem to slide fingers against bare skin. His touch had been electric, a euphoric affection he'd gifted to you through the grazing of his tongue to yours. The way in which each of you had slotted against one another had been mesmerising, a feat of fulfilment you had felt with no other being. Two flames fighting for dominance; after last night's events, Toji had wanted to take the lead. "Bedroom." The noun had been uttered between kisses, the male eventually pulling back to take your wrist into hand, pulling you toward the staircase.

The ascent was quick, a silent journey taken with haste, and once through the door you hadn't a chance to look over the room, instantly being drawn to him as large digits encased cotton, his loose tee being removed from your body. With a moment taken for adoration of the woman before him, Toji leaned forward, attaching himself back to you, your own hands undressing bottom half before being ushered to the double bed showcased within the middle of his bedroom. Somewhere between your arrival and the male placing himself between your spread thighs, he'd disregarded his own trousers, though instead of using his hardened member to fuck into you with, he'd caressed sodden lips with his fingers, ghosting over your clit before dipping a digit into you.

With a gasp, he was encouraged on, adding his ring finger to middle, sliding them into your opening before beckoning them back out. Your back arched, mouth open and static as your body focused on the sensation his fingers brought to you, a smirk on his lips from the lack of your ability to multitask. "So wet already." His statement was condescending, a rough kiss against your cheek, though despite the cruel action, you'd tightened around him in pleasure. "Like that, baby?" The deep voice tickled your ear, another sloppy press of his lips against neck. Lewd sounds penetrated the atmosphere, a squelching from your increasing arousal. His presence had changed, less conflicted over his actions, allowing himself to take authority over you. "Listen to yourself, so fucking dirty." Using the hand he had free, Toji wrapped his fingers around your chin, forcing head still to be locked into his gaze. Biting your lip, you challenged his superiority, allowing eyes to meet his.

"Tell me what you want." The demand had been evidence to Toji's desires, wishing to take things further, yet wanting to appear unanimous. He scissored the fingers apart slightly while plunging them in and out of you, a moan being forced from you at the motion. "Y-your cock, please." The act of begging hadn't been one that had appealed to you previously, though with Toji working you up, you'd understood what it had truly meant to ache for dick. The need to feel his member within your walls, the understanding that his pleasure was as heightened as yours, was all you were able to picture through the haze you'd fell within.

Toji fulfilled the request without hesitation, moving the digits to grip at your side as he'd pushed himself into you, thumb moving to rub circles across your clit as he'd fucked himself deep into you. The gradual build up to this predicament had meant an inability to keep quiet, moans exiting you with each roll of the swollen bud, eyes squeezing shut and mouth wide. He laughed, though through your own sounds it had been difficult to tell.

"So fucking tight." His praise wasn't lost on you despite the noise, a faint smile forming over your lips, another clench around the thick cock that had been fucking into you. "You best be thankin' me when you cum all over my cock, pretty girl." Toji's words echoed through your ears, back arching while you'd fallen closer to climaxing, squeezing and pulsing over him. He'd grunted, eyes threatening to close, though forcing them open as he'd refused to miss a moment of witnessing you writhing in his sheets, moments from creaming over him. He could feel your orgasm approaching, walls spasming, desperate gasps for air. "What'd I say?" Toji reinforced his request, to wish you'd mumbled out the words;

"Thank you, thank you, thank-" Rendered speechless, only a scream had been able to replace the words you'd spoken, eyes rolling back to reveal only white to the male bullying into you. Toji watched you contort under him, succumbing to the high you'd reached, clamping over his cock. The tight squeeze had him groaning, milking his seed to flush within your walls, a unison of pleasure.

Toji didn't pull out for a few moments, instead basking within the fog of his mind, running hands over the bare body under him. You'd felt cool air when he'd eventually vacated you, opening your eyes when he'd placed hands beneath you, manoeuvring you to lay beneath the sheets, head hitting pillow. He'd joined you, mattress sinking as his weight had been added. You'd wanted to remind him it'd been morning, and protest a nap so early within the day, though as if he'd known the sentence your lips had been about to form, Toji raised a hand. "Jus' get some more sleep." With his arm resting over you, head residing in the gap between your own and your shoulder, you did as he'd requested, closing eyes to rest beside him once more.

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zepskies · 6 months

Text

Assistant Hottie

Pairing: Jason Teague x F. Reader (implied Jason T. x Lana Lang)

Summary: Jason Teague, Assistant Football Coach, meets you in the faculty break lounge at Smallville High. He tries to kick you out, thinking you’re a student. Technically, you are. Turns out, you both go to the same university.

AN: So I know it’s about 20 years late, but I’ve been wanting to write some Jason Teague for a while now. There’s a very dated reference to iPods (remember this show was circa early 2000s).

Word Count: 2,600 Tags/Warnings: Implied love triangle (quadrangle?), fluff, tinge of angst, and a meet cute.

“Hey, Coach T!”

Jason turns his head, shooting Clark Kent a smile that’s just a little bit forced. He slows down in the busy hallway so the younger man can catch up.

Clark’s friends, Chloe Sullivan and Lana Lang keep walking, though the brunette glances his way. Her hazel eyes catch his.

But Jason focuses on Clark, who’s coming at him with all six feet and three inches of farm boy earnestness.

Jason has City Boy Charm in his arsenal.

“What’s up, man?”

Clark smiles. “Real quick, just wanted to ask you about the drills we’re running today…”

Eighth period is about to start, meaning just another hour until school ends, and another day of practice begins on the football field. Clark takes all five minutes between classes to ask his questions about how he can better move the ball, his throwing technique, how to better communicate on plays with the rest of the guys.

As always, Jason gives Clark the best advice he has to offer. Even a few months into this job, he’s still feeling a bit of imposter syndrome. He’s only a couple of years older than the guys he’s coaching, and Clark is looking at him like he’s got all the answers.

Newsflash, champ. I don’t. Jason smiles though.

Because Clark is something else. He’s a starting quarterback of a game he’s never played before in his life. Head Coach Quigley thought it was steroids at first, but Jason had a gut feeling about the guy.

“He’s not a cheater,” he’d told Quigley. The other man had scoffed, rubbing his chin.

“Okay, Teague. If you think so,” he said. “…Make him piss in a cup anyway.”

Since then, Clark hasn’t given Jason a reason to doubt him, at least on the field.

No, his reasons for still being wary of Clark are more…personal.

“All right, we’ll workshop the rest later on the field,” Jason says, as the starting bell rings. “You’re gonna be late for class.”

“Okay, see ya later.” Clark nods and holds up a hand in goodbye. To tell the truth, Jason is a little relieved to see him go.

Instead of heading to his office, he makes a pitstop at the faculty break lounge for a cup of coffee. He could use a little pick-me-up, even if it is from a watery K-cup.

When he pushes open the door, he’s greeted by the familiar smell of stale roasted hazelnut and microwaved fish. Along with the wall-to-wall countertop and refrigerator down the end, there’s a small round table fitted with just three chairs.

Uh oh, he thinks.

You’re sitting there with a pair of earbuds in, nodding to your music while you make notes with a red pen. The contents of your messenger bag are half-strewn across the table, displaying a couple of notebooks and binders, different colored highlighters, pens, and a post-it pad.

Your back is facing him, so he has to walk around the table to get your attention. He hesitates, before he taps your shoulder. He’s never had to do this before, and he’s actually a bit nervous.

“Hey there,” he says. His lips quirk when you jolt a little. You stare up at him with wide eyes and the top of your pen resting against your lower lip.

“Uh…” You remove your ear buds and hit pause on your iPod.

“Did you get lost on the way to study hall, or you just here for the coffee?” Jason gestures to the Keurig machine on the counter. “Hate to break it to you, but that stuff’s not exactly quality joe.”

You blinked at him. “What? Um…I mean yeah, the coffee’s ass. But it is free, I guess.”

Jason tries to reign in his smile. He cards a hand through his blonde hair and taps his free hand on the table.

“Uh, are you ditching class or something?” he asks. “If it’s history, I get it. Snooze fest.”

He makes a flatlining motion with his hand. Your brows knit together in confusion…but then you brighten.

“Oh, I’m not a student,” you laugh. “But good on you for trying to lay down the law, Coach Teague.”

Now it’s Jason’s turn to be confused. “How did you know—”

You point with your red pen, over to the yellow patch emblazoned on his red polo that says: Crows Football and Assistant Coach.

“Pretty sure you’re the one the cheerleaders are calling Assistant Hottie,” you say. Your gaze is wry and a hint playful.

He lets himself smile, albeit with some embarrassment. He points at you.

“And you’re…”

“Part-time teacher’s aid,” you reply. Your hands make a frame around the stack of papers in front of you, that Jason now realizes you’re grading.

Great. His face warms a bit.

“Sorry,” he chuckles, and points to the coffee maker. “Let me just mind my business.”

He doesn’t know it, but you subtly watch him with a small smile while he goes about said business. The Keurig eventually spits out more roasted hazelnut into his Styrofoam cup.

With his prize in hand, he means to leave you in peace to head for his office, but your voice stops him.

“You can sit if you want. I need a break anyway.”

Jason can admit, at least to himself, that he’s curious. (About you.) He goes over to the table and sits down across from you. His eyes unconsciously dart over the splayed contents of your bag, and you don’t miss it.

“Sorry,” you say, as you try to reign in the mess and corral things back into your bag. “I’m kind of an organized chaos kind of girl.”

“No worries. I dabble in that philosophy myself,” he says with a grin. “I’m Jason, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” you reply, giving him your name in return.

You like his smile. His long fingers are wrapped around the steaming cup. Meanwhile, the afternoon sun is pouring in from the windows behind him. It shines golden on his hair and broad shoulders, and makes his green eyes look warm.

Those eyes glance down and focus on a familiar badge sticking out of your bag. His brows furrow.

“No way. You go to Kansas A&M?” he asks. “So do I.”

You blink at him. “What, you’re still in college?”

He laughs and leans back in his chair, blowing out a breath.

“Okay, wow! A bit rude," he says. "Just how old do you think I am?”

You bite your lip in embarrassment.

“Second thought, don’t answer that,” he quips.

“I’m sorry,” you say, through a bit of laughter. “I guess we’re both reading each other wrong today.”

Jason shakes his head and crosses his arms.

“No, no. It’s fine,” he says airily. “Lest I be any more presumptuous, can I ask what year you’re in? Major?”

You concede with a nod, but you’re still smiling too hard.

“Secondary Education. Junior year,” you say. Jason’s brows raise with his grin still in place.

“Okay, a future teacher on our hands.” He leans forward. “As it turns out, I’m actually a sophomore.”

A year below you. You bury your reddened face in your hands, though a giggle still bubbles up.

He doesn’t let you stew in your misery for long though.

“Eh, it’s okay. Don’t feel too bad,” he says. You hear the smile in his voice, and you peek out at him from between your fingers. “I’m technically a year behind. Transferred from another school so I could take this job.”

Once again, your eyes widen as your hands fall away from your face.

“Oh, yeah? I assume you play football, but I’ve never seen you on the team…”

Jason’s smile turns playfully cocky.

“I don’t play anymore, but I’ll have you know, I was on track for the NFL.”

Yeah, for about a minute, comes a dull reminder in his brain.

You rest your chin in your hand as you meet his smile. “Okay. You definitely have the face of a guy who almost went pro.”

Your voice lowers at the end there, impersonating every “dude bro” you’ve ever met who thought he could throw a ball across a field.

“I’m serious.” Jason laughs, but then his eyes dim a bit. “I played for Metropolis U. Tore my rotator cuff, and uh…that’s it. Scrubbed. Had to start over.”

You dim along with him. “That sucks ass. I’m sorry.”

He snorts, almost spilling his coffee. “You’ve certainly got a way with words.”

“But you feel better for me calling you old, don’t you?” Your pen taps on your lip, and his eyes are drawn to the gesture.

He also notices your eyes, the shape of your face, the shade of your hair, the black Fleetwood Mac shirt (with a ripped V hinting at cleavage). It doesn’t exactly scream T.A., but you’re pretty.

Beautiful, really.

He tries not to notice that too much.

“Maybe a little,” he allows. He smiles behind a sip of his drink. It’s getting cold, as he forgets to actually drink it.

“My parents sent me to college to be a lawyer,” you confess. It perks his interest with raised brows. “Like my mom, and my uncle, and his father before him, and so on.”

Jason’s smile is back. You consider that a small triumph.

“I sat in one class. Intro to Business Law.” You shudder at the memory. “Jason, I wanted to bludgeon myself with the textbook. And it wouldn’t have taken long. That thing was the size of a Dostoyevsky novel.”

Jason laughs, even though he doesn’t know who Dostoyevsky is. It does unearth a distant memory of his 12th grade English class (he barely passed that one).

“So, I decided to disappoint them,” you say ruefully.

That, he understands all too well. He raises a finger at you. “Hey, a teacher’s respectable. But I happen to be an expert at disappointed parents, so you’re in good company.”

You smile, small but genuine. Jason counts that as a win.

“What’s your major now?” you ask.

“Sports medicine,” he replies, but you both hear the lack of enthusiasm in his voice.

Your head tilts, and your eyes soften. Not with pity, he thinks. Maybe with understanding.

“You could find something else you’re actually passionate about,” you say.

Jason bites the inside of his lip, sets his cup back on the table.

“Sure,” he says.

His lackluster answer is telling, and he can’t even think of a joke to inject into this moment to lighten the mood. (He even disappoints himself there.)

“Look, I get it,” you say at last. “You probably ate, slept, breathed that game. Like that’s what you were put on this earth to do. And I know you must’ve been good. Because the fact that this school hired you while you’re still in college is amazing.”

He meets your gaze steadily.

Your smile brightens. “But I’m sure football’s not all there is to you.”

That touches him. Warms him even, though he’s reluctant to let it.

“We just met, and you’re already sure about that?” he remarks.

You shrug, gesturing at his cup. “Well, I’m sure that you probably have crappy taste in coffee. I’m broke as hell, and even I don’t drink from a Keurig.”

Jason laughs. If you only knew that he’d spent his summer in Paris, sampling some of the best restaurants and cafés in the world without even looking at the bill…until his dad cut him off. Needless to say, he’s had to refine his tastes.

“What kind of teacher do you want to be?” he asks, instead of getting to all that.

Your brow arches. “You mean what subject?”

“Yeah. What, like physics or something?”

“Ew. God, no!”

“What’s wrong with physics?”

“Too much math. I’m shit at that shit,” you reply.

“Okay. No to the sciences.” He laughs and rubs his chin, squinting at you. “Let me see if I can guess.”

You gesture widely. Go ahead.

“Not economics, I’m thinking. Too close to business,” he teases.

“Business law,” you correct. “But you’re actually right about that.”

“Hmm, history?”

“It's interesting, but it’s also rigged,” you say. “Only the victors in society get to dictate what gets remembered. Just look at Columbus Day. What a sham that is.”

Jason allows that with a nod and a smile. “All right, what then? Algebra? Geometry?”

“That’s math, remember?” you reply, with furrowed brows. “Besides, I don’t like mixing letters and numbers. It’s not sanitary.”

He chortles at that. You’re a little ridiculous, but he kind of likes that.

“Okay, how about English?” he says.

Your gaze flicks up to his. A small, growing smile.

“What makes you say that?” you ask.

“Process of elimination?” he says. His smile curves. He saw your little reaction. “But I don’t know. I get the feeling you’re a hell of a lot smarter than me. The way you’re talking, all quick as a whip… Like I said, you’ve got a way with words.”

You laugh a little. “Oh, do I?”

Jason’s brows raise expectantly as he leans back in his seat again.

Well, then? that move says. “Am I right?”

Your head tilts, and you answer the unspoken challenge in his eyes. You raise a finger and pull out one of your notebooks and you take up your red pen. You tap the top of it on your lip, in what seems to be your habit, and you begin to write on a clean piece of paper.

Your hand moves with purpose on each word. Jason watches you in curiosity. Though when you realize he’s staring hard at your paper, your free hand forms a wall against his probing eyes.

“No cheating,” you reproach.

He scoffs, but he waits for you to finish.

Finally, you tear off the piece of notebook paper, fold it up neatly, and you slide it over to him.

“What, are we passing notes now?” Jason can’t help but joke, even as he opens the little gift. “I thought we weren’t in class, Professor.”

You shake your head. “Just read it.”

He starts to, and his smile grows. He glances back up at you. “You wrote me a poem?”

“Just a little haiku.” You gesture at him to keep reading while you start to pack up your things. The alarm bell just tolled for the end of class, and you have another job to get to.

Jason’s eyes lower back down to the looping scrawl of your handwriting. His smile deepens into a smirk.

Assistant Hottie

You flatter me, see through me

Smarter than he thinks.

He stares at your words for a while. He rereads the last line a few times.

By the time he looks back up, your bag is packed and you’re standing, ready to go. You smile at him.

“See you on campus,” you say. “I also work at the Writing Center, if you ever need a spruce up on your essays.”

“Can I get you to rewrite my history paper?” he teases.

“Make an appointment,” you counter, still with that smile. “And we’ll see.”

You leave the faculty lounge, and Jason feels a suspicious jolt in his heart.

Something he immediately feels guilty about.

Because the real reason he came back to Kansas is to continue his summer fling with Lana Lang, a senior at Smallville High.

Well, to him, it’s not a fling. He used to think it was as close to love as he’s ever been. Recently though, he’s been getting the sense that she’s still hung up on her not quite ex, Clark Kent.

That’s not even the most complicated part.

She’s 18, and Jason’s barely 20, but their relationship could still one day be the reason he loses his job…

And maybe, any chance he might have of being friends with someone like you.

AN: Lol no shade to my sciences, history, and math people! Just creating a character. Let me know what you think! 😉

And if you liked this...

Read the Sequel!

Check out "Miss Professor" to continue reading. ❤️

Smallville Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Jason Tag List:

(Includes "Everything" tags + "JT" tags.)

@sleepyqueerenergy @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28

@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester @jc-winchester @fromcaintodean @deanbrainrotwritings @jackles010378 @akshi8278 @rachiem4-blog @waters-2567 @jessjad @sweettimelady @iprobablyshipit91 @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @lokigirl666 @xiphoidbones

#Assistant Hottie #Jason Teague #jason teague x reader #jason teague x female reader #jason teague x you #jason teague fics #smallville #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles #lana lang #smallville clark kent #clark kent #zepskies writes

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rin-fukuroi · 4 months

Text

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬 [𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: Jing Yuan x fem!reader

Warnings: just cute fluff

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. Taemin - Pretty boy

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

Maybe the new year is already over, but it's never too late to just feel the warm and loving and caring atmosphere of the holiday

— Well, well, don't be naughty, I'm almost done! — you playfully scratch behind your big soft ear.

Mimi has been spinning around underfoot for several minutes, poking his big nose at your dangling heel in the air. No wonder, because his owner hasn't been home for several days, he misses him as much as you do. It's a pity that you can't explain to him that everything is fine, it's just that someone decided to postpone all work until the end of the year, so Mrs. Fu Xuan now doesn't let the General out of the office until there is not a single scroll left on his desk. Harsh, but Jing Yuan deserved it.

In any case, this is a good opportunity to finish the gift that you have been hiding with extreme care from your curious husband for several months. Let the General not appear at home as often as you would like, this man is as clingy as a person can imagine. Are you cooking something? He'll happily steal a couple of slices of vegetables from the chopping board and put his arm around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder until you shoo him to the table. Are you reading? It's time to take a nap on your lap — the softest and most comfortable pillow according to General Lofu Xianzhou. Going to bed? Great, he's just tired and will gladly squeeze you in his warm, almost suffocating embrace. And it's incredibly sweet, but not when there were only a few days left before the New Year so that you could finish his gift.

Leo raises his head with some puzzlement, watching you vigorously weave thick threads with knitting needles, periodically leaning back in an armchair opposite the fireplace to evaluate the preliminary result of your painstaking work. You're really bad at needlework. If someone had told you a few years ago that you would be sitting and knitting with a serious look, you would have laughed a lot at the person who voiced such a funny joke. The desire to step over yourself, learn something new, become better for another person is also part of the relationship that you got involved in as unexpectedly as you decided to make a gift with your own hands.

The firewood crackles softly in the fireplace, and the dancing flames cast a soft shadow on the carpet under your feet and a half-asleep Mimi threatening to crush your ankle when the lion settles his huge fluffy head on it. The same atmosphere, the same warmth and the same thrill as the day when Jing Yuan proposed to you so simply and casually in this very place. You've always been like this. Carefree, just enjoying each other's company. Perhaps, from the outside, your banter with each other, lightness and carelessness are seen by others as the relationship of two good friends, but isn't that the whole point? You always think that Jing Yuan is really your closest and irreplaceable friend, with a smile on your lips, inexpressibly happy that you are so lucky to have him.

Therefore, even what you are doing clumsily now, snorting irritably under your breath when the drawing slides to the side and the threads get tangled in your hands, in some way brings you pleasure. It is unlikely that Jing Yuan will wear this, as there is an extremely low probability that you will take up knitting needles again, but you pass all those warm feelings that have been lurking in your heart all these years through your fingers holding metal sticks in your hands in the hope that the General will be able to feel them on his own body.

— Oh, well, your owner will owe me when I give him this gift, — you chuckle softly, glancing at the lion, whose ear twitches as soon as it catches the sound of your voice.

A soft sigh leaves your chest as you lean back in your chair, reaching for a mug of cocoa with tiny marshmallows on the coffee table. The hot sweetness spreads in your mouth, and you calm down a little, once again looking at the sweater on your lap.

— Do you think it doesn't look too lame? — you "try on" a sweater by applying it to your chest, and you meet Mimi's sleepy gaze, snorting softly before turning away in the opposite direction from you. — Is it that bad?!

— What's wrong, dear? — the heavy weight of Jing Yuan's body abruptly falls on your shoulders, making you shudder when he suddenly sneaks up from behind, wrapping his big hands around your shoulders.

Mimi instantly takes her head off your leg and happily wags her tail, like a dog waiting for its owner. Perhaps Jing Yuan was right in calling him his pet cat.

— Aeons, you're going to give me a heart attack! — you put your hand to your chest in fright before realizing that the sweater you tied is still pressed against it, and you hurriedly crumple it up, stuffing it under your side. — Have you finished your work yet?

— Mmm, not really,— the General almost purrs, burying his nose in the curve of your neck.

— Not really?

— Aren't you glad to see me at all? It would be a shame to celebrate the New Year separately.

You roll your eyes, but gently wrap your arms around your husband's forearm, sighing in resignation.

— Okay, I'll set the table now.

You are about to get out of the warm embrace of Jing Yuan, when Mimi stops you, insistently poking his nose into your thigh, under which lies what you have been hiding from your husband for so long.

— What is it, Mimi? Did you find something? — The General's hands are leaving your shoulders, and you can almost feel cold sweat rolling down your forehead.

Jing Yuan strokes the lion's head, but he completely ignores the owner's touch, continuing to snort and try to seep between your hip and the chair.

— Y/N, are you hiding something from me? — The General squints, smiling playfully and leaning towards your face.

— N-no! I guess I just spilled some cocoa… HEY! — you scream when your husband silently crouches, grabbing your legs and throwing you over his shoulder. You squirm, frantically slapping him on the back when you feel Jing Yuan leaning into the chair. — STOP! Let me go, there's nothing interesting there!

— Really? Then why did you hide it? — The General chuckles softly, and you drop your hands in despair, noticing the sneaky lion sitting behind his master and wagging his tail contentedly. — This is…

— It's not finished yet, — you mutter unhappily, propping your chin with your fist behind your husband's back.

Jing Yuan gently holds you with one hand, with the other unfolding a soft sweater over the seat of the chair. The red threads are intertwined in neat chains, and in the center of the gift there is an embroidered lion, slightly uneven, but seemingly insanely charming to the General.

— Is that Mimi?

— Y-yes… Or what should have been him.

The man gently puts you down on the floor, and you awkwardly look away, feeling embarrassment tingle your cheeks.

— It looks ready, can I try it on?

— I told you… — you started to speak, but stopped, noticing with what trepidation Jing Yuan lifts the sweater from the chair, leaning it against his muscular chest. — Oh… All that remains is to cut the thread.

You take scissors from the table, carefully cutting the red thread, and take the sweater from Jing Yuan's hands while he hurriedly throws off his uniform, presenting himself half naked in front of you and forcing you to frantically squeeze your gift in your hand, checking whether it is too prickly to put it on a bare body.

— Y/N, — Jing Yuan smiles, holding out his hands.

— Okay, okay… — you sigh, finally giving the sweater back.

Your husband carefully pulls on his sweater, smoothing out the bound image of Mimi on his chest. He looks so happy when he looks at the thing that is bound with your own hands, and he can almost feel how your love, care and efforts are woven into these soft threads to see a smile on his face.

— Why only Mimi?" Where is my beloved wife? — The General grins, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to his warm body.

— A sweater with me wouldn't be so cute, — you giggle, burrowing into Jing Yuan's chest. So softly.

— Who told you that? — your husband's fingertips are placed under your chin, forcing you to look at him. — You are the sweetest woman in the world.

The man's amber eyes sparkle in the soft light of the fireplace, and you can't help but smile, rising on tiptoe to leave a short kiss on the General's cheek.

— Flatterer, do you think this will save you from being punished for ruining the whole surprise?

— I hope so, — The General rubs the tip of his nose against yours, loosely closing his eyes and pressing you closer to his body. — Thank you, my love.

P.S. Mimi's credibility was undermined after this incident!

#headcanons #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai:star rail #honkai:star rail x reader #hsr drabbles #jing yuan #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan fluff #fluff #happy new year

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daisyblog · 6 months

Text

Surprise

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN and Harry see their baby for the first time and tell their closest family the news.

It had been a busy week for YN and Harry. They had travelled home at the beginning of the week from Manchester, where they had spent two evenings with Anne.

They had arranged an appointment with a midwife, as they were still none the wiser of how many weeks pregnant YN was. YN’s symptoms had calmed this week, she felt like her energy levels were slowly increasing, she no longer felt nauseous or had headaches.

It was Tuesday morning, and they had scheduled their midwife appointment for late morning. YN was a tad nervous, she wasn’t sure what to expect from this appointment but she prayed for a healthy baby.

Since they found out about the little one, Harry’s hand always found it's way to rest on YN’s tummy. When they were lying in bed in the night, his hand would be on her tummy as her back cuddled into his chest. Or when they were cuddled up on the sofa in the evenings, he couldn’t help but hold where their baby was.

So when Harry cuddled her from behind, as she stirred their cups of tea, YN wasn’t surprised when his hand landed on her tummy.

“Morning.” Harry left a peck on YN’s neck as he cuddled her.

“G’morning baby.” YN continued to stir the milk into the mugs that sat on the counter.

“How are my favourite people this morning?” YN’s heart warmed at his words, a smile appearing on her face, as his hand gently stroked at the skin on her tummy.

YN turned in his arms. “I can’t believe we’re going to have a little person, who’s half of me and half of you.”.

“I hope they have your blue eyes.” Harry had always loved her blues, the first thing he noticed all those years ago.

“I hope they have your kindness.” Harry didn’t reply, he simply pressed his lips to YN’s.

---

They had found themselves in the waiting room of the hospital. The room was white, and very clinical, the walls were covered in posters aimed at expecting parents.

YN was picking at the skin around her fingers, anxiety surrounding her as she waited for her name to be called. Harry noticed when she had responded as he spoke, so he slipped his fingers between hers knowing that would help her to calm a little.

“YN Tomlinson!” A woman, around the same age as YN and Harry called. Which made Harry a little worried that she may recognise them.

They both followed the midwife down the corridor and into a small side room. After they all took a seat, the midwife who they had now learnt her name was Cara.

After Cara had asked YN a few personal details about her date of birth, how she was feeling and her medical history, Cara began to look through the file that was on the table in front of them.

“Okay…so from what I can see here in your notes, you’re not really sure how far along you are…is that right?” Cara asked YN with a friendly smile.

“Uh yeah…my periods have been a bit irregular lately because we’ve been travelling, so some months I’ve had one and others I haven’t.” YN explained, as she glanced to her side where Harry was sitting.

Cara nodded at the new information and wrote something in the file. “That’s understandable, so what we’ll do today is send you for a scan and then we can measure how far along you are.”.

YN was instructed to sit back in the waiting room and drink water before her scan, so her bladder would be full for them to perform the scan.

Harry and YN were talking about how nervous but excited they were that they would hopefully see their little one for the first time today, depending on how many weeks YN is.

The couple waited an hour until they were called into another room, where a sonographer introduced herself and explained what would happen during the scan.

As instructed, YN laid down on the bed and pulled her jumper up and wiggled her leggings down a tad, so her tummy was exposed. Harry was sat on the edge of the seat next to her, trying to hide the anxious nerves that he felt right now.

“This is going to be cold.” Georgia, the sonographer, explained as she squirted the gel onto YN’s tummy. Causing YN to flinch at the sensation. “Sorry darling.”.

The room was silent as Georgia rubbed the gel over YN’s tummy with the probe. Harry watched carefully but he could see YN take a deep breath to calm herself, so gently he held her hand, that laid beside her on the bed, and rubbed circles with his thumb to let her know that everything was going to be okay and he was right by her side.

“Ohh!”. Georgia broke the silence of the room.

“Is everything alright?” YN panicked, causing Harry to sit up straighter in the chair.

The sonographer smiled as her eyes still focused on the screen in front of her, and her hand continued to move the probe around. “Everything is almost perfect, I was just surprised to see a baby and not a small blob.”.

“What does that mean?” Harry was quick to ask, not understanding what was happening.

“It means that you’re a lot further along than you may think.” Georgia spoke to both YN and Harry. “You’re actually fourteen weeks and three days.”.

“Fourteen weeks!” YN was in disbelief. “ Are you sure?.”

Georgia turned the screen, to face them. “Very sure” she laughed. “Here’s your baby’s head, tummy, arms and legs.”.

And there in front of them was their little baby, arms and legs wiggling around. How could they love someone so much that they hadn’t met?

YN squeezed Harry’s hand that still held hers, as the tears were running down her face. But as she looked to her side, she could see that Harry was wiping away his own.

“M’sorry…it’s..it’s just made me all emotional.”. Harry apologised, as he used his hand to wipe away a tear.

“You don’t need to be sorry…that’s our baby, it’s going to be emotional.” YN reassured him that it was okay to cry.

Georgia interrupted the moment. “The partners usually cry more than the Mums…it’s a natural reaction.”.

After a few more checks, YN and Harry were able to leave the hospital with multiple different scan photos, ready to share with all their family.

---

As soon as Harry and YN arrived home, they broke the news to Teddy. But Teddy lifted his head from where he was cuddled up, to the sound of their excited voices to only pop his head back down and proceed with his doggy nap,

Deciding to tell someone who would be more than interested in their news, Harry FaceTimed him Mum.

“Hello my darlings!” Anne spoke as her face popped up on the screen.

“Hi Mum.”

“How are my favourite people?” Anne asked, eager to know how their appointment went.

“Do you want to see your grandbaby?” Harry asked, knowing how excited he and YN was to share their news.

“Of course…could you see a lot then?”

YN held the scan photo up to the camera and Anne’s reaction was just how they imagined.

“OHH…wait that’s an actual baby.” YN and Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “I was expecting like a little dot or something.”.

“We thought the same Mum.” Harry agreed. “YN’s actually fourteen weeks and-“.

“FOURTEEN WEEKS!”. Anne couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Sorry..I’m just in shock!”.

---

Next was Louis. Louis managed to find a quiet room in the arena to FaceTime YN, as he was playing a show in Brighton that evening.

“‘Ello love.” Louis spoke as YN accepted the call.

“Hi Lou!” YN greeted her brother. “I’m sad that we’re not coming tonight.” YN’s grandparents and Daisy were heading to the show this evening, and she was a little jealous.

“I know…but you’re coming on Friday.”. Louis was so excited to be playing the O2 on Friday evening. “So let’s see my niece or nephew then.”.

YN held the scan photo up for Louis to see. “I’m fourteen weeks and three days.”.

“Fookin’ ‘ell…I wasn’t expecting you to be that far along…I thought you were going to five or six weeks.”.

“I know…we were so shocked…I still can’t process it.” YN admitted.

“Hang on…the Away From Home Festival was fourteen weeks ago.” Louis thought out loud.

“Yeah…okay I’ve got to go…love you bye.” YN couldn’t end the FaceTime quick enough at the idea of her brother working out when they had conceived their baby.

---

A pregnant Gemma came around to their house on Thursday morning, as she hadn’t seen them properly for a while as she was trying her hardest to hide her own pregnancy. YN had just made them all a cup of tea, and Harry and YN had left their scan photos out on purpose to see if Gemma would notice.

They all chatted about what they had missed in each others lives over the last few weeks, until Gemma noticed the ultrasound on the side table in the living area.

“Is this Phoebe’s?” Gemma asked, knowing that YN’s sister was expecting.

“No…it’s mine.” YN casually said as she took a sip from her mug.

Gemma’s eyes found Harry’s, almost looking for confirmation. When Harry smiled, Gemma screamed with excitement. “I’m gonna be an auntie…our babies are gonna be besties!”. After she had calmed down, Gemma hugged YN and congratulated her. “Thank you so much…I’m so excited.”.

Harry sarcastically coughed when he heard Gemma’s words. “What about me?”.

“You’re not growing a baby…you had the easy job.” Gemma playfully dismissed her brother.

---

YN and Harry were planning on telling YN’s grandparents and siblings the news on Friday, before Louis show as they were all going to Lottie’s house for breakfast. But two special little people wouldn’t be there, so they had to settle for FaceTime.

“Hello my babies.” YN greeted her youngest siblings as they both appeared on the screen.

“Harry!” Ernest got excited to see Harry was FaceTiming with his sister too.

“Hey little dude.”

After Doris and Ernest had told them both about their days in school and what they had planned for the weekend, YN slowly started to tell them their news.

“We’ve got a question to ask you both.” YN managed to keep their attention. “You know how you’re an auntie and uncle to Lucky and soon Phoebe’s baby?”. When they both nodded, YN continued. “How do you feel about being an auntie and uncle again…but to mine and Harry’s baby?”.

It took a moment for the news to sink in. “You’re having a baby?” Doris was the first to speak.

“Yes…I’ve got a baby in my tummy.” YN showed them both the photo.

“Is it a boy or girl?” Ernest asked, obviously excited to know if there was another boy or girl coming into the family.

“We’re don’t know yet.” Harry explained.

“Are you both excited?” YN asked.

“Yes…I can’t wait.”

---

On Friday morning, Lottie and Lewis had invited everyone for breakfast at their house, ahead of Louis show. Louis couldn’t make it due to having to be at the venue.

After the group had eaten their breakfast and were lounging in the living room. YN had discreetly given Lucky a copy of her ultrasound.

Lucky toddled around and kept a tight hold of the photo. “What have you got Lucky?”. Lottie was quick to notice that Lucky had picked something up. “Aw Pheebs is this-“. But as she looked at it, she could see that it had YN’s name on it. “Are you?”.

YN nodded with a smile, from her place where she stood in front of Harry as he had an arm wrapped around her.

“What’s going on?” Daisy asked, as she looked between her two sisters, which caught everyone’s attention.

“YN’s pregnant!” Lottie announced, as she tried to let the words sink in herself.

All eyes were now on YN and Harry. “Surprise!”.

“I knew it” Jen stood from her seat, as she went to give the couple a cuddle. “I said last week there was something different about you…congratulations my loves.”.

Lottie was still screaming with excitement. “I’m going to be an auntie again!”. She was absolutely thrilled that another baby was joining the family.

Phoebe hugged YN as best as she could with her bump being in the way, but as their tummy’s were toughing “Meet your new little bestie.”. YN couldn’t describe the feeling of sharing a pregnancy with her sister.

“Well I guess that leaves me to be the only Tomlinson to use contraception.” Daisy joked, knowing that everyone would find her joke funny.

And before Harry and YN knew it, they were surrounded by love, hugs and congratulations. It was in that moment they realised how much love their baby had already.

Tag List: @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour @bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream

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crushedsweets · 8 months

Note

Do you have any headcanons of Lyra and Toby’s relationship?

this has been in my inbox for like over a week by now because this is a big task in my head. i will focus more on the family itself, but obviously the siblings r there.

ROGERS FAMILY HCS UNDER THE CUT... tw for abuse and addiction, of course

ok. WE'RE GETTING PERSONAL HERE. im the eldest daughter of 3 so the way in which i project into older siblings is insane. ive also had an addict father(no where near like frank though let me clarify) so in general . . the story.. makes me feel very...... basically their relationship is very personal to me.

lyra is about 2-3 years older than toby.

frank's dad was in the vietnam war, his grandparents were in wwii, his grandparents in wwi, etc. so he went into military service right after marrying connie. for a long while, he was SUPER military strict. those kids were up, made their bed, and down for chores by 6am everyday. he made them do military time rather than civilian time. he was incredibly traditional, expected a perfectly clean household, a polite soft daughter, a strong bold son, perfect wife. he wanted the 1950s nuclear family model. so toby and lyra grew up in a very clean, strict, traditional household.

in my au, frank wasnt outright abusive until the kids were around 8-11. it was after he developed his addictions and lost his job. the kids really didnt understand what was changing at first, and legitimately were like 'omg dad isnt making us wake up at 5am everyday..... this is so cool'.

theyd start having sleepovers in eachothers room, slacking a bit on chores, going to sleep late, sleeping in. toby didnt develop his tourettes until he was around 7, so lyra and toby would walk home from their elementary school together. sometimes, theyd walk another friend home first, stop at convenience stores to get candy, pet a cat, etc. frank didnt say a thing for the first few months, just drunken grumbles along connies worried 'WHERE HAVE U BEEN'. if they weren't walking around the area, they were in the backyard playing soccer.

eventually the abuse began, and all of those little freedoms were quickly stripped from the kids.

toby developing tourrettes around this time was a painful coincidence, because not only did he experience abuse at home, but awful bullying at school. he was promptly pulled out after completing 3rd grade. he was only 8.

lyra would practically run home from school everyday, as fast as a 12 year old girl with a backpack could manage, just because she spent all 7 hours in school worrying about toby at home. connie had to start working to pay bills, so..

when toby was around 11 and lyra was around 13, toby started kinda just. being more distant. he was kind of a dick to lyra for a period of time, half because of everything he was going through, half because puberty is rough. his room started getting messy, lyra had to start picking up chores he was slacking on , etc. lyra isnt perfect and began to resent toby for this, and eventually, the two were kinda at eachothers throats for like 6 months. which isnt a lot, but for kids, its an eternity.

when franks abuse evolved from ''just'' verbal abuse, to shoves, to slaps, to full on beatings, toby started egging frank on. just to get him off of lyra and connie. obviously he couldnt feel it, and while it sure took a fucking mental toll, it was so much easier to just wait it out rather than listen to the girls cry.

lyra didnt even realize toby was doing this for a while, she just thought it was all part of him going through his little hormonal asshole phase, until one day frank made a fucked up comment about 'youre lucky that boy is always causing trouble. was supposed to be you'. then it kinda clicked and she very quickly tried to fix their relationship back to what it was.

frank eventually scared connie so badly that there'd be periods of time where she'd take the kids in the middle of the night, and run off to either her parents place, or even a random hotel in another city. she'd use cash, force the kids to keep their phones at home, leave literally everything behind and often make the kids pick out new toothbrushes at a random walmart. etc. it would only last a few days each time, and lyra fought so hard to stay strong while her mom cried and toby closed himself off.

she'd try to get toby to come to the hotel pools with her, try to get him to watch tv with her, try to get him to just fucking talk to her. he was often catatonic during these little runaways, once the confusion adrenaline and fear wore off

it wasnt until they went around a month without seeing their father, and frank had some weird fucking. 'those are MY kids too' thing and went to connie's parents house while all the adults were out, and forced the kids back home. this was the first time lyra was full on sobbing and begging and pleading in years. that was what shifted something in toby, too.

now tobys 13, lyras 15, and theyre on better footing. theyre starting to understand eachother. tobys back on keeping up with chores, knowing that either him lyra or connie was going to get beat if they were missed. sometimes he'd just silently come into lyras room and lay down and watch tv with her. they'd talk about books, about school, their trust was built right back up and toby ended up being the first to know about lyras school drama, gossip, boys, etc.

toby wasn't really socialized properly, since he's been homeschooled for 6 years by now. all the time, he'd hear lyras stories, and wish he could go to school. his mom would be horrified anytime toby asked, because all she could remember was her sweet boy coming home and crying into her arms after a day of being mocked and pushed around by peers.

so he began to live through lyra, in a sense ? he almost became a diary for lyra, and he kinda loved it. she was like a sitcom to him.

frank wasnt a good father by any means during this period, he was still awful, but he wasn't constantly looking for trouble. the kids kept to themselves, connie did everything she was expected to, he didnt give a shit about their grades or social lives. he couldn't even recgonize when lyra was coming home late.

lyra got her license the second she turned 16. the house had two cars, and its not like frank was ever going anywhere, so she was always going everywhere. she adored the freedom, and took toby wherever he'd let her. he only really left the house if he was going grocery shopping with his mom or something, so it was kinda weird now that he was just. going to malls. going to restaurants. going to parks. just Hanging Out. every now and again he'd stick around when Lyra was with her friends, but he didn't like them so it was rare.

sometimes theyd just drive together for a long time. at night, she was the one to take him to every hospital visit, she even got him to volunteer at a pet shelter she worked at for a bit. 3 years and they become so close again, and lyra is tobys best friend. she's his entire world because who else does he have ? he loves his mom, but she's married to the man he hates more than anything

toby was 16 and lyra was 18 when frank strangled toby till he passed out. thats finally when connie kicked frank out, forcing frank to go live on his moms couch. lyra was mortified and started spending an absurd amount of time with toby. she took online community college courses just so she could spend even more time with toby, and it didnt hurt to do so since frank wasnt there anymore. things were getting better for the family, frank was gone, lyra was in college, connie was working, toby was volunteering at shelters and even had a few acquaintances he'd talk to now and again.

lyra picked toby up from the shelter he volunteered at when the accident happened.

lyra and connie had matching silver necklaces with a circle pendant that had their initials. toby didnt cuz frank would get pissed if toby tried wearing jewelry, but when lyra died, toby immediately clung to it. he wears it religiously. the only time he takes it off is if he knows he's going to kill someone that day. otherwise, its always on him.

lyra died and was buried in colorado. toby lives in alabama now. so he really doesnt visit her grave often. only on her birthday, he'll scramble together some money and get brian, tim, and kate to agree to cover his uh. 'shifts' with slenderman, and take a few loooonnnggg train rides over to colorado.

he'll leave two bouquets of flowers. one for lyra, one for connie.

connie just feels in her heart that its toby. she has no reason to believe it, they've never bumped into eachother (toby's visiting at like 2am and falls asleep near the grave for a few hours), but she knows nobody else whos visiting lyras grave and leaving two sets of the same flowers.

toby and lyras childhood home was put on sale shortly after it was reconstructed from the fire, and connie moved in with her sister. lyras bedroom door was the only one that was shut and left unscathed after the fire (legitimately keep your doors shut if you ever have a housefire it can save entire bedrooms and even lives). the rest of the house was ruined, but not lyras room. connie kept every single one of her belongings, but she's put some photos out on the grave. tobys taken them, and connie believes it was him. again, she has no reason to believe it other than the flowers and 'why would someone take a photo of my dead daughter.'

anyway hi. in tears. i love them. sorry. i just retell their story over and over and get sad everytime

#asks #chatterbox #creeped #hcs #ticci toby #toby rogers #connie rogers #lyra rogers #creepypasta fanart #creepypasta art #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #ticci toby headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #tw abuse #tw addiction #ty if u read everything

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queenshelby · 28 days

Text

The Law Student (Rewritten)

Part Three: Confrontation

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (20) & Reader (30)

Note: This plays in 1996, just before Cillian drops out of law school.

Over the next few days, you and Cillian carried on with your usual routine, but there was a noticeable distance between the two of you. In class, he would sit as far away from you as possible, and his answers in seminars were brief and to the point. You couldn't help but wonder if you had hurt his feelings, but exhaustion eventually set in. You were going through a demanding period at work, and you had to remind yourself that you had made the right decision.

You knew that Cillian was a mere distraction, a fleeting moment of desire that you couldn't afford to indulge in. As a professor, you were always conscious of the power dynamic that existed between you and your students.

You knew that your position meant that you were in a position of authority, and that opening yourself up to a romantic relationship was not only inappropriate but also risky.

You knew that you had to maintain your professionalism, no matter how difficult it might be.

And so, you carried on, putting your attraction to Cillian to the side as you focused on your work.

Your days were long and demanding. Not only were you busy with work, but you were also going through an ugly separation and divorce.

One evening, you left the campus late, feeling drained and exhausted and decided to call into a bar nearby. You knew that there was live music playing and thinking that some music might help to lift your spirits, you decided that it would be the perfect remedy to an otherwise exhausting day.

The busy bar was crowded with people, most of whom were students, their laughter and chatter filling the room.

Just as you ordered a glass of wine though, someone tapped you on the shoulder. Surprised, you turned around to find the man you were still married to standing there. James and you had been separated for months but the way things had ended were rather unfortunate for you both. He had been unfaithful to you , his infidelity leaving you heartbroken, angry, and insidiously doubtful about yourself, despite your professional achievements and your generally charmed life.

You had been trying hard to avoid him at university where he worked as a professor in a different faculty and seeing him here, tonight, hit you like a ton of bricks, your heart pounding heavily and sweat starting to gather on your brow.

His lips quirked into a half-smile and you struggled not to let him see how much his unexpected presence unnerved you.

"James," you said, managing a pleasant but measured tone. "I didn't expect to run into you here. Bars like these aren't usually your scene."

"I know," he replied, his eyes scanning your face. "But you took pretty much everything I owned, so I'm kind of short on cash these days and the drinks here are cheap," he mused, but you immediately felt irritated.

"Everything you owned?" you chuckled bitterly. "You mean everything I paid for from the money I had inherited when my grandmother passed away?" you said, your voice tight with anger. You hated that he could still get under your skin, but you refused to let him see that he affected you.

"I made a mistake and I apologised, but clearly that wasn't good enough. You just went right ahead and filed for seperation," James said, his tone turning defensive, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes at his victim mentality, that and his somewhat warped sense of reality. "You put me out on the street and then you avoided me. You keep your distance at work and you don't pick up my calls. It's not fucking fair that, after five years, the only person I get to talk to now is your fucking attorney," he snapped, and you could see a tick forming in his jaw.

You took a deep breath, trying to rein in your temper. "Look, James, I'm not doing this again. I'm sorry that our separation has been hard on you, but that's not my problem anymore. You made your bed, now lie in it," you said firmly, trying to put an end to the conversation.

But James wasn't done yet. "You know why I cheated on you Y/N?" he asked , taking a step closer to you, and the anger bubbling within you threatened to boil over. But you instead focused on the words needed to be said.

"James, I really don't want to have this discussion with you right now," you responded, taking a step back, but he followed, closing in on you and invading your personal space.

"No, but I think you should hear it," he said, a hint of malice in his voice. "I cheated on you because you simply weren't enough for me Y/N. You became boring and predictable which, really, was a shame because it all started off so well."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and it took all your strength not to react. Leaving your almost full glass of wine standing there, you reached for your coat and bag, needing air. You needed to escape the stifling atmosphere and the suffocating weight of James's words.

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, refusing to show any weakness.

"I gotta go," you muttered, still fumbling to loop your arms through your coat sleeves.

James moved to grab your arm, but you jerked it away, taking a hasty step back. "Don't fucking touch me," you hissed, your voice barely above a whisper, knowing that the entire bar's patrons looked at both of you.

"Come on, Y/N, don't be like that," James pleaded, holding his hands up defensively. "I didn't mean—,"

"No, you meant every single word. And that's fine, James. I moved on and it's time for you to let go, too."

You turned to leave, but James's voice stopped you in your tracks.

"You're just going to run away again? Just like you always do when things get tough?"

You spun on your heel to face him, anger flashing in your eyes. "No, James. I'm not running away. I'm taking care of myself. I'm moving on, and you should too.

I wish you all the best, James, I really do." You said the words coldly, all the warmth and love you once felt for him gone. You had given him your best, and he had tossed it aside for something fleeting and temporary. You would not let him make you feel small and insignificant; you were stronger than that but, just as you stormed out of the bar, you collided with yet another familiar face.

This time, it was Cillian. He had been at a table near the entrance, nursing a beer, but his attention had been fixated on you.

Seeing you clash with James had stirred something inside of him and, as seen through his eyes, you looked resolute, yet hurt. The pain in your expression was almost unbearable to watch, and there was an overwhelming urge to reach out to you and offer comfort, except he was unsure how to proceed as you tried hard to ignore his presence.

"Hey, Miss Y/LN. Just wait a sec," Cillian called out to you as you tried to slip past him, not wanting to deal with him right now. Your emotions were already running high, and you didn't think you could handle another run-in with someone who had a hold on you. However, before you knew it, Cillian's hand was on your arm, gently tugging you back towards him. "Are you okay?" he wanted to know before making a rather blunt statement. "I couldn't help but notice your disagreement or something with Professor Douchbag over there," Cillian trailed off delicately, gesturing subtly towards James, his expression filled with concern.

You couldn't help but chuckle, a bitter sound that vaguely resembled amusement. "He is actually my ex-husband," you corrected him matter-of-factly, rubbing your temple with the tips of your fingers.

Cillian looked at you, a number of emotions playing across his features before curiosity edged out the others. "Your ex-husband? Really?" Cillian asked, baffled. "You were married to that guy?" he ought to confirm and you nodded solemnly, a sad smile forming on your lips. "Unfortunately that is a yes," you said as you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. "I think it's best if I head home," you stated, glancing past Cillian towards the street, the crisp air lightly brushing against your skin.

However, Cillian was not about to let you leave just like that. Not after having seen the sour turn of events that had unfolded before his very eyes.

He noticed the distress plastered across your face, the tears threatening to spill over, and before he could think twice about it, he found himself speaking up, his voice firm and clear.

"I don't know what he did or say to you, but I can tell you this - you can do so much better than this guy. He seems like a real self-important jerk at uni and you are beautiful and smart, so, uhm...I don't know..." Cillian said, honesty and sincerity etched onto every syllable he uttered. "You just deserve more than that."

His voice cracked ever so slightly, revealing the hidden depth of his protectiveness and concern for you. A wave of gratitude washed over you as you turned to look at him, really look at him, for the first time in what felt like ages. Your shield of indifference faltered as you met Cillian's tender regard. Your vision blurred as you tried to prevent your oncoming tears from falling. He reached out tentatively, his warm fingers gently wiping away an escaped tear from your cheek.

You sniffled, trying to collect yourself, and managed a feeble smile. "Thank you, Cillian. That is probably the sweetest thing anyone has said to me in a long time," you breathed, leaning into his touch for the briefest moment before collecting yourself. "And I appreciate your kindness, but I should really be heading home now."

Despite this, Cillian couldn't seem to shake this newfound curiosity about you. Perhaps it was the vulnerable, broken woman he had witnessed earlier, the unmistakable pain in her voice and the tears in her eyes, all thanks to James' vicious words. Or perhaps it was the courage you showed as you confronted him, your strength a stark contrast to the fragility he had just witnessed.

"Let me walk you home. It's late , and I don't want you wandering around alone," Cillian offered softly, remnants of his charming smile lingering. An unfamiliar sense of vulnerability rose within you. Normally, you brushed off such advances with ease, but Cillian was different. He was young, sincere, and impossible to ignore.

"I think that would be really improper, seeing that you are my student and all," you reminded him but, this time around, Cillian ought to argue.

"How so? I am just walking you home to make sure you get there safely. Besides, isn't it our university's policy to keep an eye out for each other, especially when it comes to safety?" Cillian reasoned sheepishly. "You even said so yourself in one of your lectures," he added, hoping you would relent and allow him to accompany you.

"Alright , that creeps me out a bit but I guess you do have a point there," you joked nervously, finally abandoning your tough exterior as you let out soft laughter, still in shock about this unexpected turn of events, but wary and distrustful at the same time. Stepping out of the cozy pub, you were greeted by a plateau of darkness interrupted by intermittent pools of yellowish light emanating from surrounding street lamps; illuminating swatches of the narrow sidewalk and foggy pavement in oblong shapes.

" Where do you live, Miss. Y/LN?" Cillian asked, briefly breaking the silence enveloping them since they left the pub. The brisk wind whistling softly around them launched a shower of gold and red-colored leaves above.

"Not far from here. Just a few blocks away, off College Road," you revealed, adjusting the lapels of your trench coat against the onslaught of the cool evening breeze. "How about you Cillian? Do you live on Campus?" you inquired, looking at him as you both kept walking. The crunching sound of dried leaves with every step punctuated the silence between you.

"Nah, I can't afford that. I still live with my parents in Douglas," Cillian replied, sounding a little embarrassed. You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. Being an ambitious young man, Cillian was no stranger to working odd jobs to support himself while studying but you knew yourself that working here and there didn't really pay enough.

As you walked side by side, the quiet, tense energy between you simmered underneath the surface. You kept stealing glances at him, and each time your eyes met, Cillian would quickly look away, his cheeks flushed.

You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, even though you knew it was inappropriate.

There was just something about him that drew you in, despite all the reasons you shouldn't feel this way.

As you neared your apartment building, a sudden silence fell between you.

You both knew what was coming next, and neither of you was quite sure how to handle it.

Finally, you reached your building, and you turned to face him.

"Well, this is me," you said, your voice hesitant. You don't know why, but you didn't want this moment to end, didn't want to say goodnight and go your separate ways.

Cillian looked up at your building, towering above you both, then back at you. "Right," he said, his voice low. He paused for a moment, and you could see the gears turning in his head. You wondered what he was thinking, what was going on behind those deep blue eyes of his. Finally, he seemed to make a decision, and he looked at you again, his expression serious.

"Can I ask you something, Miss Y/LN?" he said, addressing you with a formality that was endearing in its earnestness.

"Of course, Cillian," you replied, mirroring his formality but unable to suppress the slight tremble in your voice.

You could feel your heart beating faster as you waited for his question, unsure of where this conversation was headed.

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feelbokkie · 3 months

Text

Things He’d Write in His Planner for You

❤︎ January 14th: Diary Day ❤︎

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

Couples swap cutesy yearly planners/diaries where they write important dates for each other to remember.

genre: fluff headcanon

pov: 2nd person

description: some of the little dates that skz would add to their planner for you

pairing: bf!skz x reader

warnings: none

word count: 1,087

Love Day! Masterlist

방 찬 (Bang Chan)

His days off and vacation days

You already knew what Chan was like when you started dating him. His work always seemed to be a priority. His late nights at the studio. His long practices. Promotion periods. It always seemed like he was too busy for you. You almost didn’t date him because of it. And while Chan has been trying his best to make time for you, you felt like he was overworking himself more to be with you. You were just worried that he was spreading himself thin. So when Diary Day came around, you were surprised that he had time to make one for you. You didn’t even think about making him one, not wanting to add to his stressful schedule. You were even more surprised to find every single one of his days off and vacations written and highlighted.

“Here, that way it’s easier to plan dates. Although, I’ll always make time for you, m'kay?”

이 민 호 (Lee Know)

His work schedule

When you told him that you wanted to swap planners for diary day, he looked at you confused at first. He just stood there and blinked at you at first. "What, are you planning on forgetting my birthday or our anniversary?" He was mostly teasing you. He wasn't sure what to put at first, so he just did the basics like birthdays (including your step-cats' birthdays) and anniversaries. He left it like that for a little bit, nearly blank with a few days. Until he got his schedule for the first half of the year. He knew you were going to ask anyway and he thought it'd be easier for you two to plan around dates. He mostly just put in interviews and when he would be out of the country or when he would be MCing. But then he added in all of the recording sessions, dance practices, and other practices. He even put in little notes reminding you that you could go sit in on practices if you wanted, definitely not because he wants you there.

"You have no excuse, I better see you at every event."

서 창 빈 (Changbin)

Anniversaries

He’s going overboard. He’s not just writing the anniversary of when you two started dating. He’s writing in the day that he first saw you. The day he knew he was in love with you. The first time you two held hands. First kissed. First ‘I love you.’ The day you two had your first fight. All the little firsts in your relationship and other important memories that you didn’t even think of to put in your diary for him.

“These days are important! We have to remember them so we can tell our kids about them one day.”

황 현 진 (Hyunjin)

Sketches

He started by writing quotes for each month since he didn't know what else to put. And then he decided to decorate the planner a bit to make it look nicer since it was pretty plain before. Was inspired by his favorite picture you posted online. Did the one sketch and then figured that he could just do that. Little things like the cup of coffee he's drinking or your favorite flower. At one point, he was picking up the planner more than his sketchbook. A few times, on the days he missed you most, he would sketch you.

"A picture is worth a thousand words, right?"

한 지 성 (Han)

Songs & lyrics

Started with writing songs that he listened to that day that made him think of you. Or a lyric that reminded him of you. And then, eventually, when he started writing songs about you, he would put in the lyrics he came up with. He could be minding his own business on the phone with you but the second inspiration hit, he'd put it in the planner with the exact date and time of when he came up with it. Sometimes, he'd give you little descriptions of why the thought that sound reminded him of you or what he was thinking about when he writing.

"See, I told you that you're my muse."

이 용 복 (Felix)

All the times he thought of you

Fair warning, it's a lot. You were confused at first when you got the planner. Besides all of the regular dates and when he gave you the planner. What confused you even more was all the little hearts written next to every date. You asked him and he explained that these were all the times he thought about you. spoiler alert, all 365 (366 if it's a leap year) has a little heart by it. Doesn't really give much of an explanation of it. There seemed to be a color code that you have no idea how to decipher. Every time you ask Felix, he just says he didn't have any other color available. Seungmin blurted it out by accident and now you know all of the meanings.

"You're just constantly running through my mind and I wanted you to know that."

김 승 민 (Seungmin)

Important dates from your relationship so far

Similar to Changbin, he adds in a bunch of dates for random little things, with one difference. In the weekly sections of the planner, he wrote down little stories or thoughts he had on those days. Sometimes, he's put quotes of what he wrote about that day in his journal. Any little memento that he kept like ticket stubs, receipts, and pictures that he took went into the diary as well. It was more like you were reading Seungmin's journal than a planner. Much more sentimental than you thought he would be.

"See, I do pay attention to you."

양 정 인 (I.N)

Small moments he wanted to share with you

He wasn't sure what to write at first. Filled in all the basic information and was pretty much done. Almost asked the other guys for advice but he knew that they'd only end up teasing him. And then one day, something funny happened but he couldn't tell you at that moment. It was later and he didn't want to wake you up by calling or texting you. He wrote it in his notes app at first, knowing he'd see it later and remember to tell you about it. And then one day he came up with the idea to just put them in the planner. Wrote them in the weekly section of the planner. Would write things like, Changbin hyung fell off a swing today, saw a duck and it reminded me of you (with the best drawing he can do of said duck), this city is so pretty, i'm going to bring you here one day, or i missed so i got your favorite ice cream while i was out with the guys.

"Stop reading them out loud!"

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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vastill · 1 year

Text

It's better this way

Melissa Schemmenti/fem!reader

warnings: hurt/comfort, swearing, one pet name, let me know if there are more

words: 1400+

My requests are open!!

English is not my first language!!

A/N: i don't know what to think about this one but i wanted to try some hurt/comfort fic. i hope you like it! and let me know what you think!!

Melissa was avoiding you.

All of a sudden she started to come to school later, not spending mornings in the break room. On lunches, she always went out with Barbara, not inviting you anymore. When you were together in the room she wasn’t looking at you, always doing something on her phone.

You were the new librarian at Abbott, working from the beginning of the school year and soon the new semester was starting. You didn’t know anyone at school until Melissa approached you and asked about some books for her kids. From that, your friendship started.

The lunch breaks were spent together, during her free periods she came to the library to sit with you. Leading to her inviting you to her house for homemade dinner. After a while, you started to stay for a movie and another bottle of wine. She even insisted on you staying over weekends, a little sleepover as she called it.

And now, she wasn’t even talking to you. A complete 180 from how she behaved the past weekend.

Like your cooking and movie dates meant nothing. Four months of talking, bantering, and all that time went to shit. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, she was your only true friend at Abbott.

If the word ‘friend’ was a good description of what you had. In the last month, the barrier started to fog a little. The flirting started and it wasn’t so innocent. The soft touches that she offered. Even her hugs felt different.

You wanted to talk to her, ask what happened but how? You didn’t know how to approach her, how to ask if you did something wrong.

Maybe she has a bad time in her life right now. From what you know about her, she doesn’t want to bother others with her problems. She is a tough cookie at least she is presenting herself like this. But you know better than others, she needs a daily dose of hugs and snuggles. She doesn't like to cook only for her that's why she always brings something with her to share. She cares about her kids more than anyone you have met, she wants them to have the best experience with her and the school. She will do anything for her family and her close ones even when she says she hates them.

Overall she is the biggest softie but with a hard shell that is even harder to crack.

But now you were doubting yourself. You didn’t know her enough for her to tell you what was going on in her mind.

You decided to give her time, wait for her to come around. You didn’t want to pressure her into anything.

So you started to ignore everyone, spending your free time in your library only, going out earlier, and never coming to the break room. You wanted to make things easier for her, even when your heart was breaking. She has her friends and even family here at school, so you will take a step back.

That’s how two and a half weeks passed. The staff noticed that something happened between you and Melissa. They don't bring it up, too scared of how she will react. But the looks they give you when they are in the library are full of curiosity and pity.

You were exhausted by now, you wanted your friend back.

It was Friday night when you decided to go to her house. You need to talk to her and explain everything. You can’t live like that any longer.

The lights in her house are on so you are not too late. Thank God. You knock three times and wait for her to open. The minutes dragged on like never before as you waited.

She appeared at the opened door with a glass of wine in hand. She was shocked to see you there but quickly changed her expression to stoic.

“What are you doing here?” She asked her tone having an edge to it, you didn’t know what to think.

“Hi, um I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure.” She said letting you in and going straight to the kitchen. Her safe space, you thought.

“What’s going on?”

“I think I should be asking that question. You’ve been ignoring me the past couple of weeks, Melissa.” You answered you were tired and just wanted to know if it was something you did.

“Nothing is going on, Y/N. I wasn’t ignoring you, it just happened.”

“Don’t give me this bullshit, Schemmenti. I won’t believe that. Was it something I did? Please, talk to me because I feel like I’m going crazy wondering if I said something to upset you or maybe I did something. I don’t know Melissa and I need you to tell me.” You said, your voice wavering.

“No, no hon. It’s nothing you did. There is nothing wrong that you could say or do. It’s just I don’t know. I think it's better this way. It’s better for you.” She said not looking at you, her eyes on wine in her glass.

“What do you mean? Better for me? Melissa, you are my only friend at Abbott. What in you ignoring me is for better?” You don’t understand what she is saying, did she not see how much joy she brings into your life?

“That's exactly what I mean. Friend.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are young, you should go out and meet new people. People your age. Not spending your evenings with me, cooking and watching some crap TV. You have so much more ahead of you.” She looked at you saying that, her face tired. You never saw her like that.

“And still, I’m here. Doesn’t that say something? I choose to be here with you. Please stop pushing me away. I can’t do that anymore.” You said walking over to her. “I'm not going anywhere. I’m choosing to stay if you let me.”

Melissa looked at you, her eyes softening. She put her glass down, taking your hand in hers.

“I’m sorry. I just, fuck, I don’t know, Y/N. It’s just so scary.” She said, eyes shining with tears.

You hugged her tightly, feeling her body relax in your arms. You missed her so much, Her hugs, her warmth.

“What is so scary?” You whispered near her ear, not wanting to let her go just yet.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” She quietly said if you weren’t this close to her you wouldn’t hear her. But you did. And your heart exploded.

You couldn't believe what you just heard. Melissa was in love with you. It was a shock but also a relief to finally understand what was going on.

You pulled away from her to look into her eyes. Her face was so close your noses nearly touched. She looked so small and scared. Your heart breaks for her, she thinks you won’t reciprocate her feelings.

“Melissa, I had no idea. I didn't know.” You said softly. She looked at you, a mix of emotions on her face.

“I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore. I will just step-.” And she didn’t get to finish her sentence.

You cut her off by pressing your lips to hers. It was a soft kiss but full of love and affection. You wanted to show her that you felt the same way. She kissed you back eagerly, her arms wrapping around your neck, deepening the kiss. You both pulled away, panting.

“I’m falling in love with you too, Melissa Schemmenti.” You said with a big smile on your face. “But do something like that ever again and you will regret it.”

“Yeah, I will.” She said, kissing you again. “Please don’t leave, stay with me.” And you knew she wasn’t only asking about tonight.

“I’m not going anywhere. I will stay as long as you have me.” You said, thumbs stroking her cheeks.

You both smiled, feeling happy for the first time in a while.

You knew that it was going to be hard, that it was going to be a bumpy road, but you were willing to go through it with her. You were going to be there for her, no matter what.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary #vastill #wlw fiction #wlw post #lisa ann walter x reader #lisa ann walter

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delopsia · 1 year

Text

Whispers In The Dark | Bob x Reader x Rhett

Word Count: 8,777 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, Fem!Reader, poly relationships, unprotected sex, playful bickering, a dash of hurt comfort, threesomes, oral (reader giving and receiving) Rhett and Bob both going down on you at once, thigh fucking, sex in the back of Rhett's truck, not so subtle plotting, a toy car crash, and some pointless fluff.

Vacation.

As your Google search defines it, a vacation is 'an extended period of leisure and recreation, especially one spent away from home or traveling.' A time to escape from work, enjoy yourself and spend a couple of days forgetting all of your work-related worries. Going to bed and waking up late, exploring the world around you, and buying souvenirs you don't need.

A vacation is not the time or place for waking up by yourself because Royal Abbott cannot stand to let your boyfriends spend the weekend without working them half to death. Nobody wants to hear a mid-fifties woman ask if you're sure the clothes you're wearing are appropriate for men to see you in. And as much as you love Amy, nobody wants to spend their vacation babysitting her while her father and grandparents fuck off to God knows where.

With a melodic tune, your phone lights up. Natasha's name flickers across the screen. You're better off getting a hotel up by Grand Teton like you were originally planning.

Even as your fingers dance across the screen, typing out a response, you can't figure out how you wound up here. Visiting Rhett's parents and picking up the last of his belongings was only meant to be an overnight thing. But Royal had a ranch hand quit, and so Bob and Rhett agreed to stay and help for one day.

You've been here for fucking three, going on four. Leaving a little over a week to maybe visit Grand Teton, like you've been planning for the past six months. It's hard to get Bob away from the Navy for a weekend, never mind two whole weeks. You and Rhett had to fight with your workplaces to get the green light, and now, all of that effort has added up to this.

A big waste of fucking time.

I'd hate to ask them to leave if they're not ready to go themselves. The pleasant send-tone is drowned out by Cecelia's raised, shrill voice echoing up the stairs. Quickly blanketed by Royal's heavier one, booming throughout the hallways, rattling the doors. Another day, another argument.

You nearly miss the next notification tone. Too busy shoving your head beneath what smells like Rhett's pillow. The next time you visit the Abbott ranch, you're bringing earplugs. You say this as if Bob hasn't yabbered my ear off about Grand 'Talon' for the past six months.

The doorframe trembles as Royal's voice tears through the silence. Always one to remind you of where you are. Sincerely, you hope he permanently loses his voice.

Rolling to face the wall, you pull the covers up a little higher, burying your face beneath them. Rhett and Bob should have been back by now, but as the room grows darker, you wonder if they're going to come back at all. Maybe Royal's already worked them to death in the fields.

At least these sheets smell like them. Rhett's soft, woodsy musk and remnants of Bob's warm, expensive cologne clinging to the fabric. But the bed's not as warm as it usually is with them in it; there aren't a myriad of arms and legs tangled with yours. Bob's cold nose isn't pressed into the crook of your neck; Rhett's cheek isn't smushed against your forehead.

These sheets can only do so much.

You can almost feel Bob's arms winding around your waist, strong and confident as they secure you to his chest, nuzzling his face wherever he can comfortably fit. But that puff of breath against your sensitive neck...

feels a little too real.

"'s just me, sweetie," Bob murmurs, winding his arm around you. Deft fingers curl between your waist and the mattress, pulling your back flush to his chest. You don't remember feeling the bed dip or the old oak door squeal open, but he's here. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Completely bypassing the customary 'are you okay's and 'how are you feeling?'s. If there's one thing about Robert Floyd, it's that he doesn't see the point in asking pointless questions that only eat up time.

"I don't know," squirming until your legs can comfortably tangle with his, still damp from a shower. How long has he been back?

The bedroom door squeaks, and those heavy footsteps that follow can only belong to one person. "What's goin' on?" Drawers slide open and closed; the metal handles rattling against the old painted wood.

"Somethin's got our baby upset," vaguely, you can feel Bob tilting his head to look behind himself, the lack of warm breath against your neck leaving your skin unusually cold.

Abruptly, a drawer shuts, the floor creaking as Rhett comes over to the bed. It's the first time you've seen him all day, wearing nothing but a pair of old jeans; water drips from the curls peeking out from beneath his ears, fresh out of the shower.

The mattress sinks as he crawls up to join you, settling between you and the wall. His lips find your forehead in silent hello. Chapped and bitten, an old habit that rears its ugly head every time he comes back here. Words are hard to come by; the room so quiet that you can hear when Rhett scratches at his jaw, disturbing the stubble there.

"Can we...?" you wish Rhett were closer, so you could hide your face in his chest while you speak. "...maybe not spend our entire vacation here?"

"Baby, we never canceled our plans," Bob's voice vibrates against your spine, rattling all the way down to the tips of your toes, "what made you think we weren't going?"

"Well, we haven't exactly stuck to our original plans," it comes out a little rushed. Like you only have a few fleeting moments to say what you want, "and now I've hardly seen you two for the past...what? Two? Three days?"

Rhett's eyes flicker, looking toward Bob; you can only assume it's a shared look because you can't exactly turn to see for yourself. The corners of his lips downturn, "I'm sorry," and you can practically feel the frown when he kisses your forehead again, "we can still go, yeah?"

The end of that is more directed toward Bob than it is toward you. Visible in how he slightly lifts his head to look at the man curled against your back. All of a sudden, Bob's letting go of you, bare feet audibly hitting the floor.

"The hell you doin'?" Eyebrows knitting together, Rhett sits up a bit, prompting you to roll onto your back to see what's going on with your own eyes.

You hadn't been expecting to lay eyes on Bob's boxer-clad ass, but who are you to complain?

"Looking for this...ah," he produces a laptop from the suitcase he's rummaging through, tucked safely between the neatly folded clothes. One of these days, you and Rhett really need to talk him into getting a proper computer bag.

It's open before he's even sat down again, the fan roaring to life so loudly that you think it may take flight. A stray arm ventures out across your belly, securing itself around you as Rhett squirms closer until his cheekbone is pressed against your shoulder.

"Grand Talon, right?" You're glad Bob's double-checking because something is amiss here.

"Teton," there's a strain in Rhett's tone, carrying the burden of months worth of gentle corrections that never stick. You're starting to think that it could be a great excuse to buy trinkets you don't need and place them around Bob's little office space.

Give it five minutes, and he'll start calling it Talon again.

Fingers dance across the keys, a blur right before your very eyes. Pausing for the piss poor Abbott wifi to work, tapping impatiently on the edge of the screen. The screen changes. Click. Tapping again.

"Is the internet that bad?" You ask with a yawn. To be fair, you've yet to try asking Cecelia for the password; mobile data has been enough to get you by as of late.

"I get better reception when I'm a couple thousand feet in the air," as he says that, the page loads in.

With prior context, you already assumed he was doing something related to your original trip, but you're still surprised to see that familiar lodge homepage. The same one you've looked at so, so many times over the past few months. All three of you are supposed to have been there by now; you should be laid up on an unfamiliar mattress, wasting time.

But here you are, laying in Rhett's barely functioning childhood bed, listening to Royal and Cecelia's argument burn out.

"Do you think we could make it if I got a last-minute room for tomorrow?" Eyes never leaving the screen, darting back and forth.

Rhett yawns, breath tickling your shoulder, "if it's as close as I remember it bein', then yeah."

Click.

Click click. Screen flash. Lightning-quick typing.

Click.

Click click. A grin wires its way across Bob's face as he turns the laptop to face you.

He's placed a room reservation for tomorrow.

"Not sure how thrilled Cecelia's fixin' to be," he chirps, turning it back toward himself, "pretty sure she was makin' plans for us."

"Yeah, well, I'll tell her it's because her lounge pants were too scandalous," curse your quick tongue and its innate ability to spit words out before you're sure if you should say them.

Rhett sits up. Bob grabs him by the hair.

"I told you I heard her makin' them goddamn remarks again," Rhett hisses through clenched teeth, squirming as he's led back onto the mattress. It never fails to amaze you how easy it is to control him once you've got a hand in those pretty curls.

"And the last thing our baby probably wants to hear right now," cautiously, Bob releases him, "is another argument."

Melodramatic, Rhett huffs, but he doesn't make to move again. A storm brews behind those dark blue eyes, raging seas that threaten to drown you if you peer into them for too long. The same cannot be said for Bob, always has been better at controlling those eyes of his. But his clenched jaw gives him away, that small, telltale vein in his neck bulging.

"You're horrible at hiding that vein." Leave it to Rhett to leave it up.

"At least I don't look like I'm about to commit a homicide."

For a moment, you're afraid Rhett's going to jump clear across you and tackle him to the ground like he has so many times. You don't need any magical ability to know that's exactly what's flickering through his mind.

"Now that I've dug myself a grave," turning his affections towards you, Bob reaches out to graze his knuckles against your temple, gently stroking, "what do you two say we get out of here for a little while?"

You're unsure of what he means by that, but you nod anyway, "where are we going?"

"Walmart," together, in perfect unison.

They've been planning this.

A trip to fucking Walmart.

"Bunch of small-town losers, the whole lot of you," but even with your half-hearted complaint, you find yourself getting out of bed to pull on some clothes.

It's not necessarily cold out, Wabang is quite comfortable on summer nights like these, but you still reach out and steal Rhett's big, comfy black hoodie that's been sitting on your suitcase.

Bob's eyes flicker with the slightest complaint.

Rhett reaches over and snatches that US Navy jacket from him. The black zip-up, with 'Navy' written across the left arm in big white letters. "Problem solved," absolutely beaming as he wriggles into it.

"You two are something else," but there's a fond smile on Bob's face as he slips his glasses on, careful to mind the lenses.

Out in the hallway, you're met with a blanket of darkness that never seems to end. Rhett steps past you, taking your hand on his way, and with remarkable ease, guides you through it. You're not sure where you're going, but it's easy to fall in tandem with his step. A soft left and you're looking at the staircase.

On the living room couch, Royal's completely knocked out. Snoring, still dressed, his hat laying discarded on the floor. Laying the wrong way, the brim flat on the floor threatens to warp its shape, but Rhett makes no move to fix it, so neither will you.

Keys jingle. Bob opens his mouth.

"Absolutely not," Rhett's quicker. "You drive like an old lady."

His old ranch truck looks so out of place compared to Bob's. That little old '01 GMC Sierra looks cute until it's placed right next to a monster of a Toyota Tundra. It's going to look even stranger next to Rhett's current vehicle once you get it back home.

"I've missed this old thing," its scrap value probably isn't worth the gas and time it took to drive here, but you can hardly complain. The cowboy practically has heart eyes as he clambers into that old driver's seat.

"I'm convinced you'd marry this truck before you marry us," you can't help but tease as you settle into the middle. Bench seats need to make a comeback, so couples like you can equally sit up front and not fuss over who winds up in the back.

The engine roars to life just as any other vehicle would, refusing to show her true age. "Those rich assholes won't even let me marry both of you," that big hand of his lands on your knee, squeezing it. Like clockwork, Bob's hand lands on your other one, doing much of the same.

Always evening things out.

You don't remember there being a Walmart nearby, but in the year since you've last been to Wabang, they've built one along the outskirts of town. Bordering a flourishing uppity town that's been getting a lot of business due to a newly constructed highway.

It's strange to see so many cars over here; nice ones too. Modern vehicles that look like they couldn't be more than five years old, big, glistening trucks that Rhett so lovingly refers to as Pavement Princesses. For it being ten o'clock at night, this store is pretty busy.

"Both of you," already, you know what Bob's about to ask; hasn't even let you fully get out of the truck yet. "Hands. Now."

You're rolling your eyes, but you hold your hand out for him to take anyway. Rhett, however, fusses like a small child, whining as Bob laces their fingers together.

"Why do you do this to me?" He grumbles, but there's a smile fighting its way across his pouting lips.

"Because keepin' you two together in a store is like herdin' cats," you hate that he's got a point. Store runs have been nothing but chaotic until Bob practically started leashing you.

Someone inevitably wanders off for one thing and gets distracted. Someone else picks up the things you need by memory, only to learn that they've already been put in the cart. Someone, cough, Bob, winds up with the list, wondering where the hell you and Rhett went.

The hand-holding only lasts so long. Carts are always necessary with these two men, and like a pair of kids, you've got to have a hand on it at all times.

"I don't wander," Rhett grumbles, and you can already see his eyes skittering about the signs, looking for his favorite aisle.

You'd beg to differ. "We've found you in the toy section three trips in a row."

Admittedly, Bob's not much better. Their mutual toy car collection is truly something else, with Bob's Matchboxes and Rhett's Hot Wheels. Almost every store visit ends in a new member being added to the family. Nerds.

"Can I convince you two to get snacks first?" You can see the chip aisle from where you're standing, and you can hardly tear your eyes off it. Something, anything, sounds good compared to Cecelia's stale veggie straws and off-brand cheese crackers.

Two pairs of blue eyes land on you.

And they're both silently telling you 'yes.'

These aisles are massive, never seeming to end, even when you're standing dead in the center of them. You don't recall the last time you've seen this many variations of chips, spicy, extra spicy, toasted, odd flavor combinations that no sane man comes up with. Bob's already found his beloved barbeque chips, Rhett's...staring at Bob, eyebrows knitted. Flicking over to you, then back to him.

All these variations, and yet no matter where you look, you can't find your favorite. They're not where you'd usually expect them to be; they should be at the very end, alongside the rest of the brand. What if...

oh.

There's a slot for them on the bottom shelf. Completely empty.

"Of course," leave it to you to want the one thing they don't—

"You know," Bob's staring at the cart, expressionless, "I have no memory of doin' it, but evidently, I picked you up a bag and put it in here already."

Because there they are. Evidently, the last bag and Bob's impulsively grabbed them for you without thinking twice.

"Y'have a hell of an autopilot system, Playboy," Rhett's absolutely grinning as that nickname rolls off his tongue; he's finally picked what he wants. Jalapeño Cheetos. Go figure. It was either that or pork rinds.

"I am beggin' you to quit callin' me that."

"Then you best get on your knees because you're doing a shit job at beggin' so far."

You really, truly, cannot take them anywhere.

The toy aisle is where you assume you'll go next, but they completely bypass it. You're all talking, commenting on the different things you pass by; Rhett lays eyes on toddler cowboy boots and absolutely loses his mind over the size difference, but neither of them explains where they're off to. They see the aisles, you know they do because Bob comments on the silly shelf of plushies called Living On The Veg, but they don't stop.

And the only place they seem to be headed is toward...camping gear?

"What are we doing?" Context clues aren't enough; you can't figure this one out.

"Looking for an air mattress," Bob says as if it's plain as day; why wouldn't they be looking for an air mattress?

...did he book a hotel or a camping ground?

Rhett's several steps ahead of you, already halfway down the aisle, by the time you step foot into it. Arms folded across his chest, peering up at the top shelf. Eyes scanning, searching, knows exactly what he's looking for, just doesn't know where it is.

"Found it," standing on his tip-toes, he takes down a box you hadn't initially noticed.

An air mattress designed for truck beds.

"Am I missing something?" You don't...what?

And this time, when two sets of blue eyes, one pair a sweet baby blue, the other so dark that they look black, it hits you.

They're planning something.

"This feels like a plot to kill me."

"It is."

"It's not," Rhett groans, running his hands through his hair, "what about watching the stars in the bed of my truck screams 'I'm going to kill you tonight' anyway?"

Bob's chuckling is the only thing sound you can hear in this quiet, neglected little field. You suppose Rhett was the only one who cared for this part of the pasture because it doesn't look like anyone's touched it since he moved out. Wild shrubs, briar patches that you've narrowly avoided stepping in.

"Without context, you two taking me out into a field at midnight, and insisting I get on an air mattress that you shoved in your truck bed, is a little strange," but while you speak, you're trying to figure out how the hell to get up here.

Rhett hopped up just fine, but you're not sure how to make the jump.

"Hold on, hold on," Bob's glasses fall low on his nose as he bends down to pick you up, "I've got you, sweetie."

No matter how many times they do it, it still feels strange to be swept off your feet as if you weigh nothing. He places you right on top of the air mattress, careful eyes watching as you squirm up to sit next to Rhett. As soon as you're settled, he hops up, moving with such ease. Muscles flexing with the effort, the veins in his hands so fucking prominent that you might start drooling like a dog.

"How long have you two been planning this?" The back of the truck is hard against your back, the window pane digging into your shoulders, but you don't have a single complaint. You physically can't, not with them snuggling up to you the way they are. Rhett's head coming down to rest against yours, Bob's arm sliding around your shoulders.

"Since we got here," Bob's confession is so faint that it's nearly lost in the breeze.

Rhett's head tilts, eyelashes fluttering against your cheek. "Y'get a lot of time to brainstorm in these fields."

Funny, it's been hard to hold a single train of thought cooped up in the old Abbott home. Someone's always needing a favor, Cecelia's constantly got things to say, and you've got to hear those things whether you like it or not.

"I think they offered to give Rhett his truck back so they could get free labor out of us," there's more Bob's trying to say, but his sentence is punctured by a yawn that he can't talk through. Jaw nearly unhinging, eyes scrunching shut; you've no recollection of when his hand wound up on your knee, but it loosens, falling further between your legs.

Involuntarily, you shiver.

"Someone's sensitive," Rhett muses; his eyes flicker up to you, watching carefully as a devilish hand slips between your legs. Even with pants on, you can feel it clear as day; the heat radiating off their big palms like two blazing infernos.

"Subtle," you grumble, "real subtle."

But again, it's impossible to truly complain. because Bob's pressing a kiss to your cheek, sleepy-eyed and so utterly fond. As soon as you've turned your head, he's dipping down and stealing a proper one from your lips. Once, twice, until he's hooked, can't bring himself to draw away for a third time.

It's only been an hour since the last time he kissed you, but it feels like it's been centuries since the last time you felt these soft lips dance with your own. So long since the last time you've found the taste of that peppermint chapstick on your tongue. Can't remember the last time you've felt the cold metal of his wire frames bump into your cheek.

A second pair of lips brush at your exposed neck, familiar stubble tickling you, sending you gasping. Such a faint noise that shouldn't be audible, but Rhett's chuckle tells you otherwise, brushing his scruffy jaw against your skin just to get another rise out of you.

Blindly, you feel around, searching for and tangling your fingers in those messy curls. Merely serves as an incentive for him to move closer, swinging his leg over to straddle your thigh as he nibbles at the soft spot just below your ear. A burning tongue soothes over it when he's done, making you squirm, unintentionally pushing up into his groin.

"Oh."

Such a sudden little noise has you and Bob breaking away, mouths agape as you turn your attention to the cowboy perched on your thigh. You've made a mess of his hair. What usually stays tucked behind his ears now cascades against his cheeks.

He's yet to notice that you're looking at him, eyes closed, lips agape as he tentatively grinds against your leg, eager for some sort of contact. Even as you lean forward, he doesn't notice. Not until your lips are brushing against his, and those eyes flutter open for a fleeting moment, snapping shut once more when you close the gap.

"Didn't expect for you to be the first one to crack, shug," there's a soft clack as Bob sets his glasses down on the roof of the truck, the only place they're safe from being smushed.

There's the faintest of grunts against your lips, Rhett's determination to express his annoyance easily overtaken by the sudden attention he's being given. Nose bumping into yours as you lazily tangle together, kiss after kiss, never lasting longer than a few seconds before a new one is started.

Curious, your hand wanders up to feel how much he's worked himself up. Only expecting to find him semi-hard, but he's solid as a rock under your palm, eagerly pushing up into it. "Jesus, Rhett."

"Don't 'Jesus, Rhett', me," he fusses, jolting as you squeeze the outline of him through his jeans, "maybe you two have been fine, but I've been hard all fuckin' week."

You truly believe that if there were an actual scale to measure sex drives, Rhett would break it every time.

Such an unfortunate thing for him, but fuck if a few days without getting off doesn't make him the most pliant thing you've ever seen. It's so easy to push him back until he's off your leg and you're able to sit up on your knees properly. There's only a small gap between your back and the truck window, but Bob fits into it just fine, his arms winding around your waist.

One wandering hand cups you between your legs, and all of a sudden, you're the one who's gasping.

You're thankful Rhett's not wearing a belt for once, makes it so much easier for you to pop open his button and yank down the zipper. And he's falling right into your open hand, nothing else there to restain that heavy, dripping cock of his.

"Didn't," licking his lips, "didn't intend to wear those jeans for more than a few minutes."

There's an uncomfortable coldness as Bob takes his hand away from you, bringing his hand up to Rhett's agape mouth and hooking a thumb inside. You're sure Rhett would gripe about it if not for the visible pressure being applied to his tongue.

Just as he's closing his lips around it, Bob's pulling away, skin absolutely glistening with saliva. Reaches right down to encase your hand that's already wrapped around Rhett's cock. Wickedly, that wet thumb finds his sensitive, plush head and starts to rub circles into it.

Rhett's mouth opens with a surprised gasp. Not a sound comes out at first.

And then you find yourself blessed with the sweetest, whiniest wail you've ever heard from him. Left leg thumping against the air mattress as Bob draws spiral after spiral. It's been a while since the last time you've seen his head tilt back like that, so overwhelmed that his eyes have bolted shut, can do nothing more than take it.

Shaky hands reach down, batting all of your offending hands away."Mean." There's no venom to it. He tries, but there's none there to give.

"Like a damn faucet," only when Bob mentions it do you realize that his thumb is absolutely soaked. Only able to look at it for so long because now, that same hand is pushing past your waistband. Dripping, pre-cum covered thumb to your clit.

Slower than how he assaulted Rhett, but those short, tight spirals against that swollen little bud are downright menacing.

"Absolutely fucking mean," you find yourself grumbling, "God, shit, Bob!" Squeezing your legs together does nothing.

"What?" Chill as a fucking cucumber.

You don't realize you're making noise until Rhett's quieting you with his mouth, swallowing down those faint sounds that ripple out of your throat. Impossible to stifle, always finding a way to slip past your futile resistance. Your hips are squirming on their own accord, but you can't make Bob move a damn millimeter.

Circle after tantalizing circle, unrelenting. You've still got your pants on, and he's already playing one of his best cards.

"Stop, stop," and he comes to a screeching halt; even Rhett freezes. You are going to lose your goddamn mind, need a moment to catch your breath. "Not like this."

"No?" Bob's composure may be perfectly maintained, but no amount of self-control can hide the hardness resting against the curve of your ass, twitching when you grind against it, "you wantin' somethin' else?"

"Want more," cut short by a curious, momentary pressure on your clit, "at least get my pants off first."

Fingers hook into the brim of your pants before you're even done talking. You have to get off your knees in order for Rhett to slide the garment past; he goes to toss them, but Bob catches them, neatly folding them. Midway through tucking them off to the side, he freezes, whites of his eyes flashing.

"Fuck, of all the days that you could be wearin' those panties," and it takes you until the end of the sentence to realize that Rhett's lips aren't moving.

You hadn't thought much about it when you put them on, but now that you think about it, you remember that they're Bob's favorite. Pale pink, with little white polka dots and the tiniest of bows at the top. Rhett bought them for you at random a few months ago, and you fear a second pair may be enough to give Bob a heart attack.

"Swearin' sounds good on you," Rhett teases, "Playboy."

What you don't expect is for both of them to make a move to get between your legs. Rhett on your left, Bob on your right, both equally surprised by the actions of the other. Neither yields.

Two pairs of eyes ask you to cast the winning vote.

"I..." you're grasping for straws here. Bob is the one who ate you out last, but he keeps looking down at your panties, where his hand is toying with that little bow. But Rhett's practically drooling like a dog, merely held back by a thin, invisible leash that could snap at any time.

Fuck, how are you meant to decide when they're looking up at you like that? Pleading, hopeful, like you've just hung the moon and the stars in the sky, and they want you to hang their paper stars up too.

"I can't decide."

They look at each other. Words are shared, but their mouths never open.

Then, slowly, as if a sudden movement too fast will shatter the moment, they lean down. A pair of lips find each thigh. One is soft and leaves faint, peppermint-flavored imprints, the other chapped, the cracked skin tickling your sensitive thigh.

Your back smacks into the sharp edge of the truck. It should hurt, there'll likely be a bruise in the morning, but you can't feel a goddamn thing. All you know is that kisses slowly trail up your overwhelmed thighs, leaving little marks behind to keep them from getting lost in you.

That is...

that sight is fucking something.

They hardly fit; the higher they reach, the closer they have to squirm. By the time their combined breath tickles you through that thin polka-dot fabric, they've got hardly any room. Cheeks squished together, Bob's unable to fight his dopey grin, and it's leaking over onto Rhett.

It's Bob who moves forward, dragging his hot tongue up the fabric that separates him from you, but only once. Impatience seeps through the seams as he pulls them to the side, tentatively kitten-licking your clit.

Rhett's staring him down. He's aware of it, peeking off to the side. As if one more lick is going to result in a surprise wrestling match right here and now. When Rhett doesn't move, those eyes finally close, at peace enough to use the rest of his tongue. Broad, flat strokes that leave you wanting more, to reach down, grab him by the hair, keep him right there.

Slow as molasses, Rhett leans down and attaches his lips to Bob's vulnerable neck, sparking a little, surprised whimper. You can't see it, but the tremble in Bob's tongue tells you that Rhett's sucking on the little vein that pokes out behind his ear, the sensitive one that always begs to be left littered with marks.

One, two, three audible kisses are pressed to it before Bob twitches away from you with a gasp.

They switch.

Where Bob was careful, Rhett's absolutely fucking messy. Sloppily lapping at your quivering entrance, his tongue is short, but he fucks it into you anyhow, giving you something to clench around. From that alone, he's panting as hard as you are, drenching you in his hot breath when he works himself up to give your swollen little bud some attention too.

His focus gives Bob the opportunity to return the favor. But even when he has reason to assault those weak points where Rhett's collarbone meets his neck, he doesn't. Instead, pressing soft kisses that lead from beneath his ear down to the juncture of his neck. Gentle, offering warning before he starts to shower that lovely, scar-mottled collarbone with attention.

Rhett's eyes flicker up at you, fluttering. You don't know if it's from his desire to eat you out or the love being peppered into his neck, but he's absolutely drooling into your pussy. Saliva runs down his chin, each swirl of his tongue around your clit marked by a faint wet noise. Enough for Bob to collect on his fingers, using it as a lubricant when he eases a finger into you.

"Fuck," is that you who's talking? It sure doesn't sound like it. "You two are something else." The synchrony of amused chuckles you receive is pretty enough to count as a melody.

Bob's fingers are thicker than Rhett's; you can already feel the stretch as a second one eases inside. You don't know what you did, but Bob's already sensed that slight discomfort. Distraction comes in the form of a familiar 'come hither' motion, massaging a familiar bundle of nerves that sends you jolting up into Rhett's mouth.

"Please hurry up," on a normal day, you'd beat around the bush about it, but the heat blossoming between your legs is enough to have you bypass that completely. "Please, before I lose my ever-loving mind."

Rhett pulls away and reaches into his back pocket, revealing a quarter. Had that been there this whole time? Not that you're complaining, but couldn't he have flipped that damn thing before?

He flips it with his thumb, the small piece of metal dancing through the air, then dropping onto your unsuspecting belly with a soft thunk.

Tails.

On reflex, Bob falls to his haunches, sending you and Rhett bouncing. Damn air mattress. "'ve got condoms in the—"

"Don't need 'em," Rhett's already got his shirt halfway over his head, revealing that wonderfully sculpted chest built from years of hard, manual labor on the ranch. He pauses and looks up at you, having spoken too fast; you shake your head no.

Bob's the one to tug your panties down, careful to place them somewhere safe. Somewhere between that and you rolling over onto your belly, you catch the faint murmur beneath his breath, "uncouth."

"I don't know what that means," Rhett hums, tracing his blunt nails up your ass, "so it can't hurt me."

"You two are going to be bickering, even when we're six feet under in our separate graves, aren't you?" When you went into this, you knew what you were walking into, but even now, you're amazed that they manage to keep it up. Even as Rhett's cock is gently slapping against your wet cunt, seconds away from opening you up with it.

"I'll make sure you get buried with earplugs," Bob says as he settles between you and the truck's rear window. An awkward squeeze at first, but once you're situated, it's perfect. His lap perfectly comfortable to rest your head in, barely concealed bulge right there for you to run your palm over.

A retort burns on your tongue, but it slips away when you feel a plush cockhead press into you. The stretch normally burns a bit without lubricant; Rhett's too goddamn thick for his own good, but your wetness is already drenched in his saliva, makes the initial slide easy. Manages to sink a good inch or two inside before you feel that uncomfortable stretch again.

"Bobby—"

"Catch," Bob's already heard, understood, and acted before Rhett's gotten more than a word out. A packet audibly tears as he pulls out of you, audibly slicking himself before sliding right back in.

Rhett's nails trace up your spine, tickling. "Better?"

"Better," you breathe.

It's hard to think as he eases into you, inch by slow, careful inch, splitting you wide. Can hardly focus on popping open the button on Bob's jeans, and how the hell are you meant to? Rhett knows the angle his hips need to be at in order to hit all those nerves on his first pass in, distracting you with idle tracings of invisible shapes.

"Here, sweetie," Bob's even gentle when he bats your fumbling hands away. He's quick to undo his jeans, never one to insist that you give him attention while Rhett's fucking you, but always willing to let you if that's what you want.

And here you think Rhett's the monster of the relationship.

It never truly hits you until you watch him slide out from his confines. How long it takes him to get all the way out. You'd swear at the sight, but you're distracted by the comforting sensation of Rhett's hips coming flush with yours, bottoming out.

Rhett whistles, "and here you two say I'm the pain in the ass."

Your hand looks remarkably tiny as you take hold of him, incapable of standing up to all nine inches of him. His usually light-pink tip is now an angry red, completely neglected up until now. Bob's pleased grunt is lost to your own gasp, taken aback by the teasing thrust into you.

"Rhett," your warning is anything but.

"'m sorry," another short thrust, hardly enough for it to count as one, but the strokes gradually become longer and longer, "strugglin' to hold myself back with this little pussy of yours."

Lubricant dribbles over your hand, Bob gently taking hold of it to guide up and down his length, coating himself. Where the slightest breeze has Rhett dripping precum like a leaky faucet, Robert needs a little outside assistance, or else he'll rub himself raw.

Rhett's hands slide across your hips, taking hold of them; your only warning before he really draws back. It's still not enough to count as a long stroke, but it has you whimpering anyway. So thick that he drags against that bundle of nerves without any effort at all.

"So good for me," he groans, already pulling back again, "y'gonna take care of Robby while I fuck your little pussy, hm?"

His sentence is punctuated by a hard thrust, sending you jumping forward, the sound of your skin smacking echoing through this deserted field. Your cheek presses against Bob's lower belly, mouth opening to suckle at his head, whimpering around him. Every thrust has the truck rocking, sending you fluttering around Rhett's cock like a goddamn butterfly.

"Jesus," grunting above you, Bob curls his hand around the back of your head, holding onto you, "usin' me like a damn—hah! Pacifier."

Rhett's working up a rhythm, and it's the worst possible one he could be going for. Each snap of his hips punches a noise out of your throat, hips angled to drag his thick, dripping head against the gooey spot inside your cunt, never once letting it escape the attention. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you can't think straight.

The hands gripping your hips leave you no room to squirm or writhe; you've no choice but to arch your back and take what he gives you. Can feel the truck moving with each heavy thrust into your dripping pussy, unrelenting. Stimulating that sweet spot of yours like it's his fucking job, offers you no time to recover.

"This what you needed, hm?" He grunts, swallowing down a uniquely pitchy groan, "you been missin' gettin' filled up by us?"

Your only response is to hum around Bob's cock, trying your damnest to properly suck him off, tongue caressing the underside, cheeks hollowing. Labored breathing through your nose with every inward thrust because there's not enough room in you for air and both of their cocks.

"Just like that, sweetie," Bob's voice is raspy, unnaturally so, "shit, baby, just like that."

Rhett drops down to curl his big body around yours, muscled chest against your back, cheek resting on your shoulder. One arm wraps around you, the other dipping down between your legs, calloused fingers finding your neglected clit. So sensitive that you quiver around him, eliciting a gruff noise that vibrates around your ear.

"'m gonna cum in you, doll," that's not a warning; it's a promise, "fill you up until you're nice 'n full, then let Robby have his way with your poor little cunt."

The length in your mouth twitches, breaking your suction. You fear that even the neighbors down the road can hear that loud, filthy 'pop.'

"That what you want?" Pressing kisses into your cheek, Rhett just keeps talking, "hm? Want us to ruin you until you need us to carry you 'round all day tomorrow?" And fuck if that doesn't have you clamping down around him like a damn vice, downright ripping that gasp out of him.

You don't know when you started reaching down, but your hand never gets to reach Rhett's and urge it faster because he's already quickening to match his pace. Short, quick strokes that have your brain rattling around in your skull, mouth popping off of Bob to gasp for air.

Bob's gathering you up, urging you to bury your face in his soft belly and just cling to him, "c'mon baby, c'mon," and you don't know which of you he's talking to, but there's something snowballing between your legs. Tight, boiling hot.

You're muttering a name, can't quite tell if you're saying Rhett or Robby, maybe both, but you're chanting without thought. A fog settles into your head as you feel yourself start to tighten, that boiling heat washing over everything around you.

Rhett's getting twitchy, ruining his rhythm in such a way that you whimper into Bob's stomach, almost there, almost there, almost there. "Come on, doll," his voice strained, hips stuttering, "be a good girl and cum on my cock for me."

It hits you so hard that it takes you a moment to catch up, hearing Rhett's pleasured gasp and Bob's sweet coo before you feel it. Body going taut as you cum around that still-thrusting cock, vision blurring as everything goes warm and fuzzy. Rhett's hips are stalling, and you can't comprehend why until you feel that first hot gush of cum flooding your swollen cunt. Filling you up until you're sure it's leaking out.

Your high fades, leaving you limp against this air mattress, lungs burning for a full breath of air, but unable to lift your head out of Bob's warm body. Hands stroke the back of your head, kisses are peppered over your back. Who's doing what and where is anyone's guess.

"You alright?" Is that Bob? Rhett?

Weakly, you nod. Hands find your hips, working together to roll you onto your back again. There's an ache you didn't know you had, brought on by the angle Rhett once had you in, soothed by the comfortable air mattress beneath you.

Bob's hard length catches your eye. Too heavy to stand up, instead resting against his hip, right there for you to reach out and stroke.

"Y'don't gotta do that, sweetie," he chuckles, but he twitches in your hand all the same.

You need a moment to find your voice, "want you to cum."

"You heard the little lady," there's Rhett, crawling up to lay next to you, "c'mon, want you to cum too."

Bob hesitates, but slowly, he begins to move. When he settles between your legs, you expect him to immediately guide himself to your dripping, full entrance, but he doesn't. No, instead, he smacks his cock against your spent pussy, entranced by the sight.

"Really did a number on the poor thing," he muses, pushing some of Rhett's cum back into you with his thumb.

His blunt head pushes into you, opening you up just enough to take the tip of him. On their own, your legs wrap around him, semi-distracted by Rhett's hand that wanders under the hoodie covering your belly. Doing nothing more than massaging, just needs something to do while he snuggles up to you.

"I've half the mind to make you cum 'round me too," Bob's reaching down to take hold of your thighs, pushing them up until they're flush together, "but I wanna do that tomorrow when we have a nice hotel bed that I don't gotta worry 'bout poppin'."

You don't know what he's doing, and you're about to ask why he's pulling out of you, but then you feel it. A nudge between your thighs, cock sliding between them.

Oh.

There's something about the way his cock peeks through your thighs that has your head falling against the mattress, dizzy at the sight. Full, heavy balls smack against your dripping entrance with every downward motion, the slight stimulation enough to make you jolt each time. The thick underside of his cock slips between your sensitive folds, opening you back up as he makes a mess of you.

Saliva, your own juices, Rhett's cum, leftover lubricant, there's so much there that every motion sounds downright filthy, wet. Creating a dizzying, creamy mess between your legs as he carefully fucks your thighs.

"That too much, honey?" Fuck, why does he have to only call you honey when he's got his dick between your legs, "hm?"

"Feels good," your thighs are going to be so sensitive after this; it'll be a wonder if you can walk up the stairs when you get back.

His thrusts are calculated, smooth as silk as he fucks your poor thighs, cockhead kissing your pussy on each inward pass. Behind his head, the midnight stars sparkle, the perfect backdrop to his messy hair and pink cheeks, eyes clouded as they stare at the sight beneath him. Your pretty face, his cock disappearing between your quivering thighs.

Rhett's lips ghost the shell of your ear, "try squeezin' him a little tighter."

That's exactly what you do.

The pitchy whine you're rewarded with is angelic, "fuck, sweetie, please keep doin' that."

His hips are beginning to quicken, pumping in and out, rubbing against your sensitive, exhausted cunt. Spent, all there for him to use to get himself off. Smooth thrusts begin to break down, jerky, quickening, chasing a high that you can feel radiating off of him.

"Come on, Robby," you coax him, reaching out to hold one of the hands gripping your legs, "please cum for me."

Those twitches are starting up, sudden, quick little involuntary movements of his cock. Pearly white teeth dig into his thin bottom lip, but they fail to stifle the pretty noises you're squeezing out of him. Breathy and needy, you could listen to them every day for the rest of your life.

Rhett moves his head to rest on the edge of your shoulder, "that's it, Bobby," he coos. One of his hands reaches down between your legs, letting that sensitive cockhead bump into his palm with every thrust, "cum."

And then you hear it, the faintest little "fuck," before he switches angles and presses his twitching mushroom head against your clit. The first rope of cum has you jumping, surprised by the contact. Overflowing, dripping down between your legs like a waterfall.

You wish your phone was near, so you could have a picture of Bob's blissful face, features so, so relaxed as his orgasm washes through his exhausted body.

"All over my damn hand," Rhett fusses, but that's easily fixed by running his tongue along his palm, cleaning up the mess made.

Slow, Bob pulls himself out of your thighs, letting them fall back open.

You're going to need a long bath to clean yourself up. Don't even want to think about the mess that's likely drying against the new air mattress or how it's going to be cleaned up without Royal or Cecelia butting in.

Bob's bulging biceps tremble as he settles down next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "I love you."

From your other side, there's a jealous whine.

"Hold on, hold on, I didn't forget about you," eyes rolling; Bob sits up, meeting Rhett halfway to give him a proper peck on the lips, "I love you too, shug."

"We're in trouble if Cecelia or Royal heard anything," you breathe, staring up at the star-speckled sky. The house isn't necessarily close, but a loud enough noise can probably be heard from the front porch.

"Not like we have to tell them the truth if they ask," that's a strange statement coming from Bob that you have to double-check that it's actually coming from him. "Those noises were mere whispers in the dark, nothing more, nothing less."

You don't remember too much after that. There's a gap in your memory where you suspect you fell asleep, somewhere between Bob pointing out a specific constellation and Rhett insisting it looks like a penis. You think you wake up when Bob scoops you up and carries you out of the truck. No idea when or how you got inside the cab, but you're being lifted out of it anyway.

And you must wind up in the bath somehow because you wake up completely clean the next morning. Devoid of any of that mess you three had created. Like it had never happened.

Tiny wheels run up and down your naked back. One is driving up your spine, the other across a sensitive bruise that has formed overnight. The vehicles crash in a whispered explosion, tires squealing through hushed whines in the backs of throats, a little 'psshh' indicating the climax of the catastrophic event.

"What the hell are you two doing?"

"Waiting on you to wake up," Rhett yawns; admittedly, he doesn't sound very awake himself.

From your other side, Bob presses a kiss to your shoulder, grinning when you turn to look at him, "we're all packed. The final thing we need to get put in the truck is our baby."

It's merely four in the morning. The sun has yet to rise, Cecelia and Royal are still tucked in their bed when you creep past their bedroom door. A goodbye note rests on the kitchen table, promising to stop by to fetch Rhett's truck after you leave Grand Talon.

"Talon, again?" Bob's cheeks pinken at your teasing.

Rhett's head rises from the open refrigerator, chewing on a piece of cheddar cheese that he's just hijacked, "and here I thought you were the one who got fucked stupid last night, not Bob."

You blink, and Bob's halfway across the room, both of them falling to the floor with a loud thump. Rolling around in a fit of giggles as they fight to see who comes out on top. Rhett's a goner before it's even started, Bob's fingers tickling up his sides. Makes it so, so easy for him to roll their bodies over and straddle Rhett's lap.

Bob's got that block of cheese now, "you're lucky we're still in your momma's house, sugar."

God, you can't take them anywhere, can you? Rhett's squirming, trying to fight back, but today is one of those rare days where Bob's true strengths shine through. All those years of maintaining his spot in the top percent of the Navy, all to pin an unruly cowboy to a kitchen floor.

"Alright, alright," bending down, you press a kiss to Bob's temple, "we'll settle this at the hotel, Playboy."

You're halfway out the door before they realize you've stolen their block of cheese. Scrambling to their feet, laughter bounces off the walls as the front door slams shut behind them. Giddy, full of energy that will be burnt out by noon. Energy that will be recharged after their honorary, communal nap with you in the hotel bed. It'll be gone by the time you settle on where to go for dinner.

So far, your vacation hasn't adhered to Google's abstract definition, but you're starting to like it that way.

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jadedrrose · 1 year

Text

An Uncertain Beginning - Part Two

After discovering you’re pregnant, you and Law go through all kinds of emotions as the months go by, up until your baby arrives. Part one here

Warnings: a little angst (I wanted to keep this realistic, so that’s why reader is so negative toward the situation at first) but very cute ending that will have you crying. I may also even write a part 3 to this? We’ll see…

In the couple months that had gone by since that fateful evening, your perspective on everything happening around you and within you had changed many times. And still, with all the time that had passed…

You were still scared.

After Law had confirmed you were in fact pregnant, the two of you had laid awake in bed for what felt like days, both scared of what would come.

The following day he’d done a checkup on you, trying to determine everything about this change that he could. He’d found that you were already close to a month along. You wondered how you couldn’t have noticed for so long, but Law had explained that it can take a couple weeks for the symptoms to really kick in.

So now you were three months along. You’d only just started showing, but it was only obvious to Law. Any other person wouldn’t notice at all, and nobody had noticed anything, as far as you knew. You decided together that you and Law would wait to tell the crew. Not until the first three month period was over, at the very least.

And that day grew closer and closer at an alarmingly fast rate. Time felt as though it was flying by, and would never stop.

—

Four and-a-half months was how far into the pregnancy you were when the crew found out.

They hadn’t been told, no. You’d been in the operation room very late into the night, as it was more likely that nobody would be randomly walking in at that hour. Law was doing another checkup; checkups that seemed to happen more and more frequently as the days went on.

You were laid back in a chair, shirt off as Law did his best at performing an ultrasound. After all, it was a piece of equipment that was rarely used. He wasn’t as well versed in this field.

But then there were noises right outside the room’s door. Loud whispers and giggling, and before you could try to determine who was outside, the door was abruptly pushed open and in stumbled three of your crewmates, nearly falling over on each other as they tried entering all at once.

“Holy shi-“

“Penguin! Shut up, the others are sleeping!” Shachi yelled, ignoring his own words.

“Captain? Y/n? What’s that thing on the screen?” Bepo had already reached the corner of the room that you’d been in.

“What the hell are you three doing in here?! This late at night, too?” Law snapped.

“W-well, we noticed that you two would always sneak into here at night… and we were….” Shachi tried explaining, clearly afraid to answer.

“Curious?” Penguin finished for him, sounding just as scared.

Law sighed and left your side to go push the three of them out.

“Captain please! We just wanna know what’s going on!” They cried. “We wanna know if y/n’s okay!”

“Wait! I think I know what’s on the screen, Bepo!” Penguin suddenly yelled.

“You do?”

“It’s… a baby?!”

The three of them gasped, clutching their hands (or paws in Bepo’s case) over their mouths.

“Get out of here now!” Law demanded. “This isn’t any of your guys’ business.”

The metal door was slammed right in there faces, and you briefly heard excited banter between the three as they began walking away.

—

The news had spread like wildfire. By lunchtime the next day, one by one every crew member would “wander” into the room you’d be in and then “remember” to congratulate you. Apparently, it had been more obvious than you’d thought. Ikkaku was of course the first to pick up on the situation, being the only other woman. She’d told you she’d noticed your change in routine and even they way you dressed differently. One day she had even caught a glimpse of your slightly grown belly, and put two and two together.

And that evening, it became clear that every single person on the submarine was aware of your pregnancy. While you weren’t particularly upset, you still felt disdain that you hadn’t been able to tell them on your own terms. You hadn’t been ready to do it. But… would you ever have been ready? You certainly weren’t ready for this new chapter in your life.

You’d been having dinner with Law, when you couldn’t hold it in any longer; you dropped your fork, letting it crash into your plate as you put your face into your hands and began crying.

“Y/n-ya, what’s wrong?” Law was quick to ask. Lately, he’d been extra paranoid about your health and general well-being.

“I… I just wish this had never happened!” You snapped. “I didn’t plan… we never planned to become parents… so why? Why did this have to happen?”

Law moved from his seat across from you to pull you out of yours, holding you and guiding you down to your shared bedroom. He knew you’d rather deal with this in a more private setting.

“Y/n, we can’t always plan things,” Law mumbled as he sat down on the bed with you. “I’m scared out of my fucking mind, too. But it’s just how things are now.”

That didn’t seem to console you at all, as you let out a frustrated growl. “I can’t accept that then! I never asked for this!” You wailed.

“I just want our lives to be normal again…” you choked out, falling into Law as he pulled you into an embrace.

He wasn’t even sure what to say, as he felt similarly. How could he comfort you if he couldn’t even help himself?

—

A couple weeks had passed. Lately, you’d fallen into a depressed mood. You didn’t leave your bedroom much, only for checkups that had to be done in the operation room and to get food if you were craving something and Law couldn’t get it for you.

Today you laid in bed for hours. You’d been falling somewhere in between consciousness and sleeping all day. You tried reading and whatever else you could think of, but nothing made you feel better.

Deep below the surface of the ocean, you decided to just watch whatever marine life happened to swim by your window. You’d seen mostly basic fish, but there had been a couple odd creatures that flashed by. That was probably the most entertaining thing that had happened all day.

But even then, you were getting bored of just watching fish. Looking away from the window, you looked around your room, trying to think of anything to do. Your eyes landed on your belly.

Suddenly, you felt anger. You were sick of being depressed, all because of this baby. In fact, you were sick of being pregnant. No matter how many times you’d tried overcoming the negative feelings, they just wouldn’t go away.

Your cheeks burned as salty tears began slipping past your eyes. Furrowing your brows as you glared down at your stomach , you suddenly said something you immediately regret.

“I hate you.”

Then you gasped, covering your mouth with a trembling hand. Why had you said that? What overcame you to say something so vile? You knew it couldn’t hear you, but you’d told your baby you hated it. You became disgusted with yourself.

And then there was a little thud. It had been so small and short that you weren’t sure if it even happened. It was something you’d never felt before, so what could that have been? And then you realized…

The baby had kicked.

You felt a lump growing in your throat, your entire body shaking. Your lip began to tremble slightly just before you let out a loud sob. You’d said the most shameful thing ever, and in response the baby kicked you, kicking you back into your senses. You put your red tear-stained face into your palms, crying and trying to hold back screams.

A loud cry slipped past your lips, and you immediately bit into the fleshy part of your palm in response. Only a moment later, Law showed up.

“Are you okay?” He practically flew to your side, crouching down to your level and putting one hand on your head, the other landing on your growing belly.

“I’m such an evil person,” you cried in anger. “The baby isn’t even here yet and I’ve already become a terrible mother.”

“No, y/n. Please don’t say that…”

“I told them I hated them!” You snapped, hands flying away from your face, gripping the sheets around you. “I don’t know what happened, I just looked down and it slipped out. And then they fucking kicked me… like they knew what I said…”

Law began wiping your tears away with his thumb before kissing your forehead and then your stomach. “The change in hormone levels is at fault, not you, y/n. You’re not evil. And the baby doesn’t know what you did, either.”

“But I feel awful now,” you choked.

“That shows that you didn’t mean it,” Law told you. “Y/n-ya, listen to me. You’re going to be fine. I trust you more than anybody to help me raise a child.”

Your eyes widened and you looked at Law, shocked to hear those words fall from his lips. “You… what? I thought you didn’t want any of this either…”

“At first, no…” Law sighed. “But now I’ve accepted it, and I’m… glad that you’re the mother of my child.”

You began to cry again. “Oh, Law… but I… I just-“

Law cut your words off by kissing you. “I love you more than anything, y/n-ya.”

—

Six months had gone by now. After Law’s confession, you’d also finally accepted your reality. And once you did, it was as though a switch went off in you.

Now you were rushing around trying to figure out how to prepare for the arrival of your child. Constantly begging Law to stop on islands with shops so that you could get baby clothes, food, blankets and any other thing you could think of at that moment.

You had all this supplies now piled up in the closet in your and Law’s room. It was only when you went to add another item that you realized how many things you’d impulsively bought.

And then it occurred to you, you hadn’t gotten a crib! Where would your baby sleep?!

“Law!” You yelled, crying for him.

Damn your emotions. Why did you always have to cry at the smallest things these days?

He rushed into the room, concern written on his face. “What? Are you okay? Is-“

“We don’t have a crib!” You cried, placing your hands onto your cheeks and shaking your head. “We’ve gotta-“

Law let out a sigh, before stepping closer to you and placing his tattooed hands onto your shoulders.

“Y/n. You don’t need to panic, we’ll get a damn crib sooner or later. Okay?”

You nodded, sniffling as you calmed down.

Your husband then pulled you closer into a hug, kissing your forehead.

With your head down, you only then realized there was now more of a gap between the two of you, due to your growing belly.

You giggled at the sight.

“What?”

“Look at how much space they take up now,” you smiled, pressing your forehead to Law’s as you both looked down.

“Damn brat’s getting pretty big,” Law observed.

You stood there with Law for a couple more moments, holding each other in a comfortable silence, until…

There was a small thud against your stomach, and it appeared Law had felt it too as he gasped.

“Did you just kick me?” He frowned, as though he were actually scolding the child.

You laughed, “they know their father is close by, maybe?”

“Hmph… better not kick me once you’re out of there,” he mumbled, not taking his eyes off of your belly for even a moment. “You loveable brat.”

—

Today marked the approximate day; eight months. Your belly had grown even more, the movement within it becoming more frequent.

For example, now you could feel their hiccups. Every little thing they did could be felt. The kicks also seemed to happen more often.

You were in the kitchen, Law making you whatever you were currently craving right at that moment. Your crewmates wandered in and out, but Bepo had stayed back, sitting beside you. The polar bear was completely fascinated by the baby inside you.

“So you can feel when they kick?” He asked, his eyes fixed on your stomach.

“Mhm. Maybe if you put a paw on me, you’ll feel it too.”

“Really?! Has captain felt it?” He excitedly asked.

“Yep.”

“Damn brat kicks me every time I hug y/n-ya,” Law shook his head. “It’s like they know…”

Bepo carefully put a paw onto your stomach, waiting intently to see if the baby would kick.

And after a couple moments, there was a thud.

Bepo’s face lit up. It was truly an adorable sight. Until he began screaming.

“How did it know?! That felt so weird!” He yelled in terror.

You laughed as the polar bear continued to seemingly panic.

—

You were nine months along by the time you and Law had finally finished preparing the submarine for the baby. Your bedroom was now littered with baby items, even more so now because of the baby shower the Strawhat girls had held for you.

There was a crib just a few feet away from your bed, next to a dresser that was covered in various items. Clothes, diapers, plushies, excetera. Law had even put out his old hat for the child to have once their head could fit it just a little.

Law had also become very protective over you. Even more so than he was before. He forbade you from even leaving the submarine unless it was one-hundred percent necessary, but only if he went with you. He also didn’t let you out of his sight.

If you needed to grab something up high? Forget even trying to reach, because Law would be there in a second, grabbing it for you. Bending over to pick something up? Also not happening. While you did feel he was being overbearing, it was also incredibly adorable. You’d never expected him to be like this.

It seemed as though the entire crew was (impatiently) waiting for you to go into labor. Law was especially concerned about it, to the point he was constantly anxious over when it would happen.

When it did finally happen, you found yourself feeling sad. It had taken you some time to get used to the fact that your baby was in you, attached to you at all times. So now you’d felt disappointed you hadn’t gotten more time to spend being excited over the child.

It was evening, just after dinner. You’d retreated to your bedroom earlier than normal, and had only gotten to spend a couple moments laying down before you were hit with sudden pain. Pain you’d never felt before.

Your husband rushed you off to the operation room, carrying you as you cried from the sudden pain.

And of course, the commotion had alerted your crewmates to what was happening, and they all crowded around the door.

Law had been doing everything by himself, and you just didn’t understand how. But you were also in too much pain to care. You just hoped he didn’t overwork himself, going between checking you, helping you along and comforting you all at the same time.

Hours passed by before you could even start pushing. It had felt like seconds were moving at the rate of hours, time moving much too slow for your liking.

Until it was over all in a blink. Law had cleaned off your baby before bringing them over to you.

He gently passed the child over, and if you hadn’t been so preoccupied staring in awe at the baby, you would’ve noticed he was crying.

A calm baby girl laid against your chest now. She’d only cried for a couple minutes after being born, but had calmed down in the arms of her father.

Law stood beside you, looking between you and the baby girl. He brushed your sweaty hair away from your face, kissing your cheek before asking,

“What are we naming her?”

Oh my god.

“Law! We forgot to pick names!” You gasped.

“Not really, we just couldn’t come up with anything,” he corrected you. “But now that she’s here…”

“Um… I don’t know,” you honestly still had no ideas.

Law hummed, thinking it over as he looked the baby over. “What about… Lyra?”

“Lyra,” you echoed, looking down at the beautiful girl lying peacefully on your chest. “Trafalgar Lyra.”

—

Lyra was a month old when you’d finally decided it was safe enough for the crew to meet her. Rather, when Law had decided. He was afraid of her catching anything before her immune system built up.

They all doted on her, calling her “mini-captain”. They weren’t far off either, because other than some of her facial features, she was the spitting image of Law.

Her hair was as dark as his, eyes golden and bright. She was simply perfect.

Bepo was especially obsessed with her. He couldn’t get over how she’d curl up on his big fluffy belly and take naps just like her father had done many times before.

Today it was bright and sunny out, so the submarine was surfaced for the time being. You sat in a comfortable seat Shachi and Penguin had considerately brought up for you, Lyra laying against your chest. Her big golden eyes were looking everywhere around her, taking in all the new sights surrounding her. It was natural of course, as the entire world was new to her.

She looked up at you, tiny fists curling up as she gently kicked her little feet wrapped up in her onesie that Law had sewn the heart pirate’s logo onto.

It was incredible how she already recognized you as her mother. She didn’t smile just yet, but she’d always stop crying and calm down whenever she was placed in your arms.

She also recognized Law, who was afraid of letting her out of his sight. He was the one who would hold her and calm her down during the night as he insisted you and your body needed rest. So he’d had plenty of bonding time with her already.

You found that you couldn’t stop smiling whenever you looked at Lyra, a grin breaking out from your lips even if you didn’t mean to actually do it. You were overwhelmed with the amount of love you felt for her.

Law sat beside you, simply enjoying the sight before him; watching the way you adoringly watched your baby; his daughter. He still couldn’t quite believe he’d helped make such a precious thing. He’d always thought of himself as an evil stereotypical pirate, and that he could never do anything as good as this. She was the living proof that proved him wrong.

You lay your head against his shoulder, not taking your eyes off your daughter. And her eyes didn’t move away from staring up at you.

“I love you, Lyra,” you mumbled to her sweetly, gently kissing her atop the head.

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