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scuderiahoney · 5 months

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Lavender Haze

Oscar Piastri x insomniac!reader

Masterlist / Tangerine Pt 1 / Pt 1.5 / Pt 2

Summary: Oscar can’t sleep. The two of you try to find a solution. // A continuation of Tangerine

Word Count: 4.7k

a/n: well. I wrote smut. I reserve the right to delete this later if I decide it’s bad. but here you go! more tangerine verse!

Warnings: insomnia, sexual content (smut)

18+! minors do not interact! thank you

It’s a Tuesday, and Oscar hasn’t slept in nearly 48 hours. You know this because you’ve been with him for most of those 48 hours, and you also haven’t slept. That’s not that abnormal for you, but you’re unsure of how Oscar’s functioning.

He’s just finished up a meeting, and you’re wrapping up the last of your duties for the day. There’s a knock on your office door, and Lando pokes his head in with a worried look on his face.

“Hi,” he says. “Cute office. Um. I think maybe Oscar could use a ride home.”

“I’m fine,” your boyfriend calls from the hallway,

You raise your brows. Lando sighs and kicks the door open all the way. Oscar is standing behind him, leaning against the wall. His hair is fluffy and disheveled. His hands are tucked into the sleeves of his hoodie. There are dark circles under his eyes. You wince.

“Thanks, babe,” Oscar says in response to the look on your face.

“Mate, you haven’t slept in two days, of course you look like shit,” Lando teases.

“You don’t look like shit,” you say, and Oscar forces a smile. “You just look exhausted.”

He was supposed to sleep on the flight back from Brazil to England. You’d stayed awake on the plane, unable to get your brain to shut off. Between the crazy schedule of the triple header, the changes in time zones, and his overall stress, Oscar had the same problem. Then, when the two of you got to his apartment, it had been impossible for him to sleep. His internal clock is all fucked up.

“I am exhausted,” he admits, rubbing at his eyes blearily. “Dunno how you do this all the time.”

He walks into your office, eyes darting around to all the corners. There are plants on the windowsill, a photo of you and Oscar in Tokyo pinned up on the corkboard. He smiles as he sits down in the chair across from your desk. Then he reaches and grabs the unopened Red Bull off your desk.

“Osc,” you scold, as Lando makes a noise of horror. “That’s the last thing you need right now.”

“I feel like a zombie,” he says.

“Right, and zombies can’t drive, so,” Lando says, pulling a set of keys from his pocket.

Oscar’s keys. You know Lando’s right when he hands them to you over Oscar’s head, and Oscar tries to grab them, but he’s about ten seconds behind. It’s like his brain is buffering with an insane amount of lag. Your heart aches for him.

“Okay,” you say, closing the laptop. “I think Lando’s right. I think we should get you home.”

“I’m fine,” he says, again.

He goes to say something else but gets caught up in a yawn. You reach out and take the Red Bull from his hand. He sighs. You turn to Lando.

“I’ve got him,” you tell his teammate.

“Thanks,” Lando says, and then he disappears into the hallway.

You lead Oscar out of the office shortly after that. He asks to make a stop in the break room for coffee, and you refuse. At work, the two of you are pretty hands off with each other, trying to keep things professional. But this time you grab his wrist lightly and lead him out to the parking lot. You decide to take your car and leave his here- there’s no way you trust yourself driving his car.

Oscar is quiet on the way to his apartment. He sits in the passenger seat- an odd occurrence for him. He takes your free hand in his and knits your fingers together. You brush your thumb over his skin soothingly. Normally he’d be mentioning things on the road, or pestering you about your driving, but he doesn’t. You’re a bit worried, really.

You don’t push him on it until you’re in the elevator up to his place. “You’re quiet. You okay?”

He frowns. “I’m just… this is what you feel like. Constantly.”

You sigh, your shoulders dropping. He squeezes your hand. You nudge your shoulder against his.

“Not always,” you remind him. “I slept really well for a couple weeks there. And Friday night.”

“I was really hoping that sound machine would work,” he says with a huff.

“I know,” you murmur.

The elevator doors open for his floor, and he follows you to his flat and into the entryway. If you didn’t already know, you’d be able to tell how tired he is from the way he leaves his things haphazardly in the hallway. He kicks off his shoes in front of the door, drops his backpack on the floor next to them, and tosses his jacket further down the hall. When you turn and give him a look, eyebrows raised, he covers a yawn with his hand.

“You should eat dinner,” you suggest. You reach to brush your thumb against his flushed cheek. “Why don’t you hop in the shower and I’ll start making us something.”

Oscar sighs, takes a couple unsteady steps towards you. He holds his arms out as he leans, trusting you to catch him. You do, your accompanying laugh muffled into his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you and lets out a long groan.

“Or we could just go to bed,” he says, voice scratchy.

“No, you need dinner,” you insist. “And a shower.”

“What, do I stink?”

“No comment.”

Oscar laughs and pulls away. He holds you at arm’s length. “Okay. Shower, dinner, bed?”

You nod.

“What are the chances tonight?” He asks.

You sigh and shrug. “Maybe a 7?”

“Not bad,” he says. “We can work with 7.”

He’d started asking you that question shortly after you first made it official. What are the chances you can fall asleep tonight? Higher numbers are better. A one means an all nighter, likely too wound up to even sit in bed with him. A 5 means you might doze on and off, likely after he’s already fallen asleep. A ten is laying down and passing out when your head hits the pillow. None of the nights so far have been a ten.

He wanders off to go take a shower, and you head to the kitchen to raid the cupboards. You still have your own apartment, but when Oscar’s here, you stay with him pretty often. You go to the races, but often fly out on different days than him due to promo events, so the two of you take your time together when you can get it.

Luckily, he’s had groceries delivered, so there’s plenty for you to work with. You cook some pasta and heat up some garlic bread, knowing if you get him to eat anything it’ll have to be quick. Plus, warm and comforting will be good, too. You hear the shower shut off just as you’re draining the pasta. You have it all plated by the time he makes it out to the kitchen, wearing a loose pair of sweatpants and a hoodie.

He walks over and steps up behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and presses his face to your shoulder blade, letting out a deep sigh. You laugh and reach behind you, running your fingers through his damp hair. He makes a soft, satisfied little noise.

“Food, then sleep,” you promise.

He nods and pulls away, taking the plates to the table with him. The two of you eat quietly, his foot bumping against yours. He sits with his cheek resting on his fist, slouched over the table.

“Thanks for dinner,” he mumbles. “Didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

You laugh and nudge him lightly with your elbow. “I know.”

After dinner, he convinces you to leave the dishes for tomorrow. He takes you by the hand and drags you to the bathroom, where you brush your teeth together. You do your skincare routines together, and then he drags you to bed. You change into pajamas while he lays down, already burying himself beneath the covers.

You fall into your normal routine. You sit down with a book and a little reading lamp, turning off the overhead lights and the lamp next to the bed. You lean against the headboard while he lays down, his head on the pillow, one arm wrapped around your thigh. You run your fingers through his hair absentmindedly as you read, waiting for him to fall asleep, waiting for yourself to feel drowsy.

Neither of those things happen.

You look down after two chapters. Usually Oscar’s fast asleep by now. His eyes are closed, but he keeps shifting, and his fingers are drawing patterns on the bare skin of your thigh. You brush your thumb against his cheek, and he groans.

“Can’t sleep,” he says, opening his eyes and looking up at you.

You pout down at him. “D’you want me to turn the light off? I can go in the living room if you think that’d help.”

“No, the last thing I need is for you to not be here,” he says. “Just can’t get my brain to slow down.”

You hum, frowning deeper. You pinch his cheek lightly, then smooth your thumb over the spot. He crawls closer, nudging his head against your hip and letting out a deep sigh. Then he unwinds his arms from around your leg and stretches.

“It’s no use” he says, rubbing his face harshly. “I’ve developed insomnia by osmosis.”

You laugh, rubbing his back lightly. His cheek is squished against your leg, one eye closed. The other one is staring at you. You run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head and sigh.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, babe,” you say. “Come on, there’s gotta be something that’ll help. Let’s run through all the remedies, yeah?”

You drag him back out to the kitchen and start with chamomile tea. You turn on some calming music in the background, like a lullaby but for a grown man. He drinks the tea on the couch, and you sit next to him, running your fingers through his hair. It’s the best way you know to calm him. His eyelids don’t seem to grow heavy, though, so after a while you move on to the next one- warm milk and honey.

“If it’s all drinks I’m just gonna have to pee,” he says grumpily.

He’s leaning on your shoulder in the kitchen, like he can’t hold himself up. You know the feeling- your body gets heavy and tired but your mind doesn’t. So you hold onto him and will the milk to work. Of course, it doesn’t, and then you’re back to square one.

You find some lavender essential oils, buried in the bottom of your work bag. One of the reasons you hesitate to admit you have insomnia, to even call it that, is because of things like this. Everyone tries to offer you their foolproof home remedy, like you haven’t already tried all of them. But Oscar doesn’t have full fledged, capital I Insomnia, he’s just got a messed up sleep schedule, so maybe it’ll help. You tug the neck of his shirt down to rub it on his chest, and then you add some to his wrists too.

“Smells nice,” he says, softly. He blinks. “There’s lavender in your shampoo, isn’t there? Smells familiar.”

You blink right back at him. “Yeah. There is.”

It shouldn't be surprising that he recognizes the smell of your shampoo, but somehow it is. It’s endearing, sweet to think about.

The lavender doesn’t seem to help, so you move on. He’s already tried a warm shower, so that’s checked off the list, and he’s eaten warm food too. You pull him back to the bedroom and direct him back onto the bed. He lays on his stomach, which is what you were going to have him do anyways, but you make a little noise and tell him to sit up. You sit down on the bed next to him and shove at his hoodie.

“How about a massage?” You suggest.

It doesn’t take him long to take his shirt off after that suggestion. Oscar has Kim to help him stretch and loosen up during the race weekends, so you’ve never really suggested this. You wonder why you haven’t as he lays down and sighs happily. His toned back is spread out on the bed in front of you, the tan line painting a stark difference on his skin. You want to trace the outline of every muscle, but you refrain, even as he puts his hands above his head and you watch the way his arms flex. You grab some lotion, throw your leg over his hip so you’re straddling his upper thighs, and get to work.

You’re happy to have the chance to drag your hands along every inch of his skin, and it does seem to be working. That is, if the soft sighs and groans he’s letting out mean anything, or the way he begins to melt into the bed. You rub his shoulders and see the tension drain from his upper body. You press your hands into his lower spine and feel his muscles soften underneath your hands. His breaths even out and slow down.

You lean over and press a kiss to the back of his neck and whisper, “s’it working?”

He sighs, and when he speaks his voice is low and raspy. “It’s not not working, but…”

You frown. “But?”

He pulls one hand down from over his head and reaches for your hand. He tilts his hips up and brings your hand down to press against his bulge, and you gasp. He’s hard, probably almost uncomfortably so. You cup him in your hand and listen to the strained sigh he lets out.

“I was trying not to,” he says, “because I was actually starting to get sleepy. But your hands feel so nice, and I could feel you moving, and-“ you interrupt him with a soft squeeze of your hand, and he groans loudly. “Fuck, baby.”

“I can help with that, you know,” you say, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I’d be happy to. Thrilled, even. Who knows, maybe it’ll help you sleep.”

He muffles his laugh into the pillow underneath his head. When you tug at his sweatpants and slip your hand past the waistband, he groans out a “Please?”

He rolls over under you when you tell him to. You settle yourself back on his upper thighs, letting your eyes roam over his exposed chest. His eyes are half lidded- from drowsiness or arousal, you’re not sure. You run your hands up his sides smoothly. He lets out a whine.

“Please,” he sighs again.

“What do you want, baby?” You ask, pressing your thumbs into the jut of his hips.

He sighs and snuggles down into the bed. He’s laying on top of the fluffy down comforter, and he seems to sink into it. He blinks up at you and props his arm behind his head.

“I want you to be wearing less clothes,” he says, voice heavy with exhaustion. “And then I want you to ride me.”

Heat rolls down your spine. There’s something about sleepy Oscar that makes him loose lipped and eager to tell you exactly what it is he wants. You grin down at him as you fiddle with the hem of your t-shirt.

“Please,” he says again. His brows furrow into a tiny v, and his face looks strained.

You start to tug his shorts down. He sighs happily, props the other arm behind his head, too. He’s already leaking precum when he finally slips free of the confines of his clothing. You reach out, run a light fingertip up the hard line of him. He shudders underneath your touch. You lean down to press a kiss to the tip, and he yelps.

“M’not gonna last,” he says, voice already raw. “Just want you.”

It doesn’t take long, then, for you to do as he asked- lose your clothes and get on top of him. He reaches down when you straddle his waist and slips his hand between your legs, groaning when he feels how wet you are. Normally, he’d insist on giving you at least one orgasm before he even thought about getting to this point, but you know he’s exhausted and you’re aching for him already. You take his cock in your hand and guide it to your center, and his breath catches in his chest when you start to sink down on him.

You know almost immediately he’s right- he won’t last. You can feel him twitch as he bottoms out, and you watch the way his abs clench beneath you. You let out a soft moan at the feeling. His eyes are screwed shut, mouth dropped open. You could stay right here and stare at him for ages.

“Fuck, baby,” he gasps, already panting. “So good.”

When you start to move your hips, he starts to fall apart. His hands fall to hold onto your waist, thumbs pressing into your rib cage. You draw moans and groans out of him,echo them back to him, and practically drool at the way he arches his back and neck and rolls his head against the pillow. Everything feels so intense, like it’s all turned up a notch. You think he’s feeling it too. It’s the lack of sleep, you think, absently. You should pull all nighters together more often. You’ll tell him later.

Right now, you lean over to kiss him. His tongue is in your mouth almost immediately, messy and uncoordinated but hot nonetheless. You have your hands planted on either side of his head, and he starts to meet your hips with thrusts of his own. His hand slips between your legs again, thumb pressing at your clit, and you know you’re a goner. From the way he’s squirming underneath you, he is too.

You fall apart on top of him, your orgasm washing over you in sweet, warm waves, and you collapse into his chest when you feel him follow closely behind you, his hips bucking up against yours. He wraps his arms around you and holds you close. You rest your head on his heaving chest and breathe him in.

Minutes later, when you try to pull away, he wraps his arms tighter and groans. You laugh.

“Osc, I can’t stay here forever, I’m not that flexible,” you mumble. “And we should get cleaned up.”

He lets go, albeit reluctantly. When you pull away and off of him, he lets out a soft whine. You head to the bathroom, clean yourself up quickly and head back to the bedroom with a washcloth.

He’s laid out on the bed, eyes closed. “M’not asleep yet,” he mumbles. “But almost.”

You’re gentle when you clean him up, even more gentle when you tug the blankets out from under him so you can tuck both of you in. You decide clothes can be forgotten about, and you press yourself against his side. He sighs happily, wraps his arm around you, and promptly falls asleep. For once, in a strange turn of events, you follow behind him without much of a delay.

You wake up the next day in the early afternoon. You’re thankful today is a day off, meant to be a break from the insane schedule you’ve held for the last three weeks. Oscar’s off too, so even though you’re awake, you snuggle closer to him and close your eyes while you wait for him to wake up. You drift in and out of sleep, drowsy half dreams dancing behind your eyelids. It’s the kind of sleep you normally hate, but after sleeping for nearly eleven hours the night before, it’s alright.

Finally, you feel Oscar start to stir, and you know he’s fully woken up when his hand slides down your bare side, his palm landing on your hip. He sighs happily and squeezes at your skin.

“We should sleep like this more often,” he says cheekily, voice still rough with sleep.

You laugh, turning your head to look at him. His eyes are still closed. “You wanted to fall asleep inside me last night,” you say teasingly. “This seemed mild in comparison.”

“Yeah, we should revisit that sometime,” he says, pinching your hip just to hear you let out a squeak. Then he rolls towards you and wraps you up in his arms. “Good morning, love.”

“Afternoon, actually,” you mutter against his skin.

“Yeah, yeah, we needed it,” he says. “Did you sleep?”

You nod. “Passed out right after you, woke up just a little while ago.”

“Wow,” he says, in that signature tone of his. “Impressive.”

The two of you crawl out of bed eventually, heading for the shower together. He’d suggested it once in a hotel room to save time, insisting that you could both stay in bed longer if you consolidated and showered together. You’d nearly been late, but it’s become a habit since. He helps you rinse the conditioner from your hair, and you do the same for him. When you get out and wrap yourselves up in towels, he presses his nose to your hair and breathes in.

“No wonder I sleep so well when you’re here,” he says. “You’re a walking sleep remedy.”

“The lavender didn’t work on you,” you remind him.

He shrugs, dragging a towel through his wet hair. “Maybe it’s just you, then.”

You spend what’s left of the day with him, having a late lunch and then heading off for a walk in a nearby park. It’s chilly, but not unbearably so, and he holds your hand the whole way. As the sun begins to set, you head home, have a light dinner, and settle in to watch a movie. Before it’s even a quarter of the way done, Oscar starts to yawn. By the halfway point, he’s nodding off, his head on your shoulder.

You pause it. “Osc, babe, time for bed, yeah?”

He nods sleepily and curls further into you. You’re amazed by it, honestly. You don’t understand how he can be this tired already. You drag him off the couch and to the bathroom, where you both brush your teeth. Then he takes your hand and pulls you to the bed.

You know before you even lay down that you won’t be able to sleep. But you humor him anyways, because you know he falls asleep easier when you’re there. You curl up in bed with him, careful not to tangle yourself up in his limbs too much. It’ll make it easier to slip away when he falls asleep. He closes his eyes, and you run your hands through his hair and watch him fall asleep.

This is the kind of nice thing about having insomnia- you get a free pass on watching your boyfriend sleep. There’s something so endearing about it- the way any of his stress melts from his face, the soft rise and fall of his chest. His cheeks are slightly flushed, and you pull the blankets back just a little, sensing he must be warm. His hair is getting long, and it’s begun to fall in his face, so you smooth it off his forehead.

You do try to go to sleep, laying there with your eyes closed, counting sheep. But it doesn’t work, and you get antsy, your whole body buzzing with energy. So you slip out of bed as quietly as you can, leaving him behind with a soft kiss to his forehead. It almost makes you feel guilty, even though you know he understands.

You close the bedroom door and head for the living room. You put the tv on, leaving the volume low. You have specific shows that you watch when you can’t sleep. It’s not that they help, but more so that you’re watching other shows with Oscar, and you don’t want to watch without him.

You half watch the tv and half scroll on your phone. You have to be careful when you’re up this late with nothing to do- social media sucks you in, and it can be a dark spiral. You and Oscar aren’t public, in the sense that the public hasn’t figured out who you are. But they have seen pictures of Oscar with a mystery girl, and they don’t seem to like you very much. You avoid twitter at all costs.

Eventually, you get bored with your phone and reach for your book. You turn on the little lamp on the side table and start to read. Around 1am, the words begin to blur on the page. You close your eyes for just a moment, wondering if you might be able to fall asleep, telling yourself if you start to feel drowsy you’ll go back to bed. But as soon as your eyes are closed, your thoughts begin to race. You sigh and head for the kitchen.

In Oscar’s fridge, there’s a supply of tangerine Red Bulls. You’re pretty sure he got them for free, because they have Max and Checo’s faces all over them, but you’re not going to complain about it. You reach for a can and spin it in your hands, looking for the permanent marker.

Oscar understands the whole energy drink thing a bit more now, but he still worries. He’s taken to leaving you notes on the cans, because he knows you’re often reaching for them in the dead of night, when he’s asleep and unable to help quiet your mind. This one says: U SO PRETTY <3 in messy scrawl. You think Lando’s been helping him come up with them. Or Logan. You’re not sure. You smile, snap a quick picture of it, and head back to the couch. Then you settle back in for more reading.

At 2:13 am, you hear a noise from the hallway. Oscar appears in the doorway to the living room a few moments later, rubbing at his eye socket with his knuckles. His hair is in a state of complete disarray, one of the ankles of his sweatpants hiked up much farther on his calf than the other. He covers a yawn with his other hand.

“Hi, sleepyhead,” you say, softly. “It’s the middle of the night, what’re you doing up?”

He shrugs as he stumbles his way to the couch. “Woke up. Reached for you. Went, huh, not here. Came to find you.”

You laugh at his stilted sentences, and the sleep still coating his voice. He grimaces when he spots the can of Red Bull, but doesn’t say a word. Instead, he collapses onto the couch, and in the process, onto you. He lays his head on your chest and wraps his arms around you, sighing happily.

“Better,” he says. “Can I stay for a little bit?”

You laugh and kiss the top of his head. “You can stay as long as you want.”

“Mm. How ‘bout forever?” He mumbles. Before you can reply, he speaks up again. “Will you read to me?”

“Yeah,” you answer, unable to wipe the silly grin off your face. “We can go to bed if you want. Just didn’t want to wake you up.”

He shakes his head and burrows closer. “S’okay. M’comfy here. And this way you have the TV.”

So you pull a blanket off the back of the couch, lay it over him, and wrap one arm around him. You try not to think too hard about the way he meets you halfway without you ever having to ask. You open the book with one hand and trace patterns on his back with the other. You read out loud, listening to the little laughs he lets out at the dialogue.

He falls asleep before you’re through a single chapter. When you realize he’s dozed off, you lay the book on his back and listen to the soft sounds of his breathing, feel the weight of him against you and the soft puffs of air that slip over his lips. You trace the shell of his ear, the line of his jaw. You close your eyes, knowing that between the insomnia and the caffeine, you probably won’t fall asleep. But for once, your mind doesn’t begin to race. You just bask in the warmth of him, and the comfort of knowing that even in the dead of night, you’re not alone.

a/n: thanks for reading! I missed tangerine!oscar tbh

taglist : @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @ggaslyp1

#oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one oneshot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula 1 fluff #oscar piastri fluff #f1 fanfic #x reader #f1 x reader #Oscar piastri smut #formula one smut #f1 smut #tangerine!verse

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liveontelevision · 1 month

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Suffer Pt. 3

Suffer Part 3 is here! I'm planning on having at least two more parts, I was not expecting this to become a whole thing but :') I gotta see it through now lol

When I say I love slowburn fics, I mean it dammit.

Disclaimer: This is my personal interpretation of the characters from Hazbin Hotel. I respect the canon storyline and characters, but this fic will stray from it a decent amount.

(This series is complete! All parts are listed on my master list and are linked below!)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

♡ ♡ ♡

Holding a small, sleeping Charlie close to your chest, you swayed her back and forth. Your eyes fluttered shut, as you danced around the familiar nursery, humming the same tune you've used to calm her down for years. She was asleep. Safe and oblivious to any of the chaos around her. You envied her. With one final spin, you let your eyes open. Your arms were empty. She was gone. The comfortable weight of her tiny figure instantly went away. You panicked, the room you were in was shifted into something unfamiliar and uneasy. A source of light finally drew your eyes. A distant doorframe provides light, casting the silhouette of a tall, curvy woman. Her eyes were glowing.

“L-Lillith?” There were sounds of a baby crying out and the intimidating figure became far away, ceasing any light and drowning you in a darkness that you've felt before. Long ago.

A heavy knocking at your door forced you awake. As you sat up you went to wipe the sleep from your eyes, only now noticing the tears streaming from your face. Just a dream… The knock was louder and quicker this time, forcing a response out of you. “Gimme a minute! Fuck -” You roll out of your bed, going to turn off the radio on your nightstand. Having the radio on throughout the night was something Alastor suggested, obviously, after you confided in him about having a series of nightmares. His show is broadcast while you sleep, and when it isn’t, the radio static actually acts as a soothing white noise. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it kept you from going insane in the least.

You finally approached the door, your body still wrapped in your large blanket that trailed across the floor. A cheerful, as always, Charlie stood at the door. She was quick to say good morning, but went straight to the point without letting you respond. She clearly practiced this.

“So! I know my dad's visit a few weeks ago was a liiittle… Tense? But - uh, I was wondering if you two talked yet..? By chance?” She spoke like she would be scolded for saying the wrong thing. You shook your head, still slowly blinking awake.

“Well - okay! I was just asking because he.. keeps.. asking about you…” she held her phone out to you, letting you scroll through some of the messages he’s been sending her. You chuckle at first, he can't text for shit. But she was right. Ever since you blew him off that day, he's been asking Charlie how you've been and what you've been up to.

“I mean, I love my dad and it's awesome he's finally talking to me again, but - I don't know, if it's not too much to ask, could you maybe just.. talk to him?” Charlie rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, and her words broke your heart a little. It's cruel of him to try and reach out to you that way, put Charlie through that distress, but maybe you could've handled your last encounter with more care.

How could you say no to her?

“Yeah, i’ll talk to him, Charlie. Don't worry.” A yawn interrupted your sentence, but you still sent her a reassuring smile as she finally relaxed her shoulders.

“That’s great! I’ll just give him your number!” She planned outloud, turning away to head down the hall.

“Charlie- “ You called out, “He loves you, you know that, right? Don’t forget that.” Charlie’s smile drooped for a second, then quickly picked back up. She nodded as she left your view.

With a yawn, your body still not registering that you were awake or what you had agreed to, you went to shut your door. It didn't click like it usually does, so you turned to see the blockage - Alastor. He'd stuck his foot in the door to prevent it from closing entirely.

“Good morning, my dear!” his voice was booming, as he threw his arms out in a dramatic flare, your door swinging open.

Nope, you were too tired for this.

“Fuck, Al, can't this wait ‘til I'm at least dressed?” You tossed your blanket aside, rummaging through your drawers to cover the little silky tank top and pajama shorts you had borrowed from Angel during your first nights at the hotel. Maybe it was your sleep depravity, or just the fact that Alastor has made it a habit to be extra kind to you since you arrived, but you didn't mind him seeing you in sleepwear. He had no ill intent, as far as you knew.

“Unfortunately, it cannot! I heard you're going on a little outing with the king! How exciting~” He hummed, sitting at the edge of your bed as you cover yourself with your sweater. You plop down next to him, still wiping your eyes. He reached out, swiping his thumb across the apple of your cheek. Looking down at his hand, swiping your tears across his fingers, he met your suddenly embarrassed gaze.

“Another rough night, dear?” You weren't sure how he knew that's what that was from, but you nodded anyway.

“Just another nightmare, it's fine. They're always about Charlie and - the mistakes I made when I was taking care of her.. I guess it still kind of bugs me.” He let out a pitied hum, as he stood to turn your radio back on. He tuned it to some old timey jazz music before resting his hands behind his back. You didn't know it could play music..

“Well, it seems that meeting with that royal menace may not be the wisest choice. Wouldn't you agree?” You looked down before letting a sigh slip from your tired lips.

“It's fine, I can handle myself. Besides, he keeps bugging Charlie and I - I feel like I owe her..”

you shake your head, standing to your feet and beckoning Alastor out of your room.

“It's fine! It's just a quick visit, I won't be gone long.” He took your hand give it a quick kiss, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Well, if he does anything to hurt you, love -” love? “- I'll be right there to help.” He emphasized the end of his sentence with a quick tap on your nose before leaving your room. The music faded back into static as soon as he left.

You heard stories about their fight, plus you could hear their aggressive duet from your room that day, but you believed him either way. You had no doubt he could swoop in and save the day if you needed it. You wondered why people seemed so wary around him. He was a perfect gentleman to you, even with all the warnings you've gotten from Husk and Vaggie.

He had you wrapped around his finger.

You didn't think you would stress about what to wear. You hadn't even made plans yet, but all of sudden, you worried about what he would think of your clothes if he saw you. Charlie sent you his number, so it was on you to reach out. You ignored it for now. You’d ignore it forever if it would keep these feelings from resurfacing. Finally deciding on an outfit, just a black turtleneck that left your arms bare and a skirt that hugged your curves in a lovely way. Even if it probably wasn't the easiest skirt to bend over in, you decided it would do.

A lot of your clothes were hand me downs or were lent to you by either Angel, Vaggie or Charlie. None of it was truly your size, but you had no problem adding in some extra panels or cutting things to your liking. The sweater you grabbed previously was actually gifted to you by Alastor. You had no idea why he would give it to you, a simply red cardigan with a soft knit, but it quickly became your favorite accessory. Pulling up the collar, you buried your nose into the knitting, taking a soft breath in. It always smelled of whiskey and honey, no matter how often you washed it.

You went through your day like normal, followed along with some exercises Charlie was running and taking a quick trip to Cannibal Town with Alastor, something you did every now and then. It started off with him accompanying you to the bakery, where you would occasionally lend a hand, then he would split off to spend the afternoon with Rosie. As time went on, he would ask you to join him.. It was intimidating at first, but Rosie was nothing but a sweetheart, you had no problem fitting in with the two.

when you returned to the hotel, you finally mustered the courage to call Lucifer. With a quick pep-talk to yourself, you held your breath before bringing the phone to your ear. He picked up immediately.

“Hell- Erm.. uhh.. Shit, how do I -” Did he realize he answered the call?

“Helloo? Lucifer here - speaking! Who-who’s this..?” He knew who it was. You assumed this was just him trying to be casual. He wasn't very good at it.

“Lucifer - It’s me.. can we talk?” You were gripping the end of your sleeve nervously with your free hand.

“Yes! Yes, of course! When are you free? We can.. figure something out, right?” You could hear him tripping over himself, kicking things around, and something that sounded like a squeaky-toy being stepped on? His excitement made you giggle. Even with pulling your phone away to try and prevent your laughter coming through, he was losing his mind on the other end of the call. It felt like a nostalgic punch to the gut. He didn't realize how much he missed your laughter until now.

“I guess i’m free whenever.. Charlie doesn't like doing exercises on the weekend, so -” A breeze hit your face, blowing all your hair past your shoulders. Looking to the source, a golden edged portal had opened right in the middle of the hallway. A fidgeting Lucifer was standing with his hands behind his back, a nervous but excited looking grin across his face. You looked down to your phone, seeing the call was still going, then spotted his phone sitting on a table behind him. You let out the smallest huff, before hanging up and tucking your phone away.

“Missed me?” He said suavly, wiggling his eyebrows at you. God, you did. You couldn't admit that though. Your anger, guilt and nerves overshadowed any joy that he may have brought under different circumstances.

“Yeah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” You rolled your eyes, beginning to step towards the portal. He reached his hand out to you, and he noticed you hesitating. “it’s uh- it’s a little bit of a drop if you step through the - um.. just.. wanted to -” you took his hand that he almost retracted, and carefully stepped over the border of the portal. You tried to keep your mind from noticing how your hand perfectly fit in his.

Static filled your core as you left the hotel, but before you could turn and see if Alastor was nearby, the portal had shut and the static ceased.

If he does anything to hurt you, I'll be right there.

Alastor's words rung through your head one last time. You finally met Lucifer eyes after literal decades.

“Um.. Tea?” Lucifer was fiddling with his ring again. Years ago, it was something you noticed he did whenever he was nervous. You nodded and watched as he conjured up everything needed to brew hot tea.

“What, you don't use any of the servants for that? Not even some angelic magic?” Small talk felt like it could make this moment less awkward. As he poured the already heated water into two teacups, he simply shook his head.

“Angelic power is great and all, but nothin’ beats fresh tea.” His smile was so sweet. You nervously balled up the sleeve of your sweater into your hand and brought it to your nose, breathing in the same sent that always seemed to calm you.

“And.. I- ahem.. I ended up finding other places for most of the staff after..” he said it quietly, unable to call attention to his missing spouse. Definitely a touchy subject for both of you. You finally looked around, realizing you recognized the tea room. It was small, but was walled in entirely with windows. It had a great view of the little garden that used to be brimming with difigured, yet beautiful, greenery. You took another look around the room, the nostalgia wearing off, taking in the dust and trash that was collected in the corners. The garden had died off as well. It wasn't completely unslightly, but the mess didn't make sense for a royal manor.

His words finally hit you.

“Found other places? What does that even mean?” You could feel your blood boil, watching him place the tea bags in each cup. You calmed for a moment, seeing that his hands were shaking.

“I just found places for them to work, is all. Sent the stylists to that Velvette girl in Pentagram City, some of the cooks went down to the Glutton Ring, ya know. Stuff like that. I wanted them to be taken care of.” He passed the cup to you, then pulled out one of the two chairs at the small table sitting in the center of the room.

“I just wanted to take care of them..since, I-I couldn't do that for you..” His voice was low, and when you attempted to look at his face he would sip from his cup or turn away. Don't be worried about him. He doesn’t deserve that. It was all so long ago, it doesn't matter. Remember why you're here.

“Good for them. Now, I'm here because you're bugging Charlie. Stop asking about me idiot, she's gonna think something’s wrong.” You placed your half empty cup down. He choked on his drink at your words, not realizing that you had seen the poorly written texts that he was sending to Charlie.

“And nothing is wrong. Right?” Lucifer scratched the back of his neck nervously, then opened his mouth as if to say something. He didn't. He simply nodded at first.

“Y-Yup, right.. Everything's fine. l'll stop asking about you.” You went to stand, brushing the wrinkles from your skirt off as you did. That's that. You came here to get Lucifer to stop bugging Charlie and that's what you did. There's no other reason for you to -

“Wait, please..!” His hand took a hold of yours, as he almost stumbled out of his chair to keep you from walking off. “I just want to say - “

“ - no you don't have to. It was a long time ago. Everyone makes mistakes, right?” You tried your best to keep your cool, but clearly it wasn't working. He winced at your words, releasing his hold on you.

“I have no excuse. I can't make it all go away, I still feel - “ he clasped his hand to his chest, struggling to figure out what he's trying to say.

“I'm sorry. I don't need you to forgive me, but please know, that I am sorry.” The room went silent, with your back towards him, the only thing you could hear was the beating of your own heart. Lucifer didn't know what to do, until the silence was broken by a pathetic little sniffle.

Dammit, not again. Don't let him get to you. Keep your walls up.

He quickly approaches you, his hands hovering over your shoulder, as if you’d shatter if he touched you.

“Nono, please, I -uhh.. I'll leave Charlie alone! I'll stop talking to you, I'll leave you alone if -”

With a quick turn, finally faced him. Letting out a breath you'd been holding in for far too long, you rush towards him with the intent to meet him with a long overdue embrace. The sudden leap left him staggering backwards, tripping over nothing and bringing both of you to the floor. “Don't you dare! H-How could you.. why would think that's what I want..?” Your words were muffled into his shoulder, since he had placed a hand over your head to protect you from the fall. Not even acknowledging that you were suddenly sitting on the floor between his legs, he finally managed to process your words. It took him a moment to even try and reciprocate the hug. He hadn’t been touched like this for years, it nearly overwhelmed his senses.

“ I want to know what happened that night! I want to know how you feel, or I guess felt, about me.. I dont care if it hurts, please tell me the truth..” all of the questions you've been asking yourself for years suddenly spilled out.

You felt absolutely pathetic, relying on him to tell you everything okay. But fuck, you needed this. Even if you never talk to him again after this, you needed some kind of closure.

“Woah- that's uh.. that's alot to drop on guy.. Uhm…” It wasn't like he didn't want to admit what he was feeling. With the relationship he had with Lillith, he had just become accustomed to not talking about himself much. That being said, with one look Into your teary eyes, he was all yours. He carefully took your hands from around his waist and held them in his own. He gently traced his thumbs along the top of your hands, letting you calm down before he went on.

“I.. I think about you all the time, I always have. I don't know what I would've done differently that night, but I'd do anything to take it back. To fix it..” The sweet smile on his face barely made his words sound better.

“I don't understand, Lucifer.” Your voice was quiet, and cracked a bit when his name passed your lips. You saw him jolt slightly, hearing his own name through your sweet, yet saddened voice.

“Well, I guess..Li-Lillith and I-” You both winced at the mention of her name. “- we weren't what everyone expected of us. And you were one of the only demons to know that. She- ugh.. I don’t know she left without a word, without a note - I have no idea where she went.” You felt like you were getting let in on a secret that he had been keeping for years. And maybe that's exactly what was happening. Your face went pale, your head swaying slightly, Lucifer took a hold of your arms and helped you stand, guided you back to your seat.

“It's not because of me, is it?” You said quietly, as if Lillith was just around the corner, ready to scold the two of you. Again.

“No! No, geez, if it has anything to do with you, then I'm to blame. Don't worry.” He still smiled at you, his face becoming strained after grinning for so long, then placed a hand over yours.

“Don't worry? Yeah! That shouldn't be too hard.. you idiot.” You rolled your eyes, but didn't pull away at his touch.

“I'll get straight to the point then, if you think I'm such a clown -” you couldn't help but grin at his self deprecating humor, and he's so relieved to see your smile.

“With you being in Charlie's life again, I'd like to.. I don't know, clear the air? Try and patch things up..?” You went to deject the idea, but he went on before you could.

“I know it won't be easy, and it's okay if it doesn't work out. But we all used to have so much fun together.. I think right now, it could be good for Charlie, and me, to have someone like you around.. I want you back in my life.” His little spiel seemed scripted up until that last part. Your heart throbbed. You were known to always decline help from people, avoid handouts, but the rush you felt hearing Lucifer say he needs you, you were almost swooning.

“Besides, we've both grown up! Moved on- Right? I have all of Hell to keep an eye on, and you've got your little boyfriend back at the hotel so -” You wasted no time in correcting him. The idea of him thinking you had moved on with another demon made you panic for some reason you would never admit to. Why did he think you had a boyfriend? Who would -

“Al?? Oh no, it's not like that, I swear. He's just been a good friend to me since I went to the hotel, is all.”

“Al, huh?” He grumbled, leaning back in his seat ans crossing his arms over his chest. The warmth he left on your hand was immediately missed.

“Alastor, you know. The.. um.. You met him.” You held the sleeve of your sweater to your nose again, allowing the sweet air into your lungs. Fuck, he couldnt take his eyes off of you. He never wanted to take his eyes off of you, again. You just looked so pure in your little sweater.

But, that sweater.. something seemed off about it to Lucifer. He could feel some strange energy emitting off of it. It didn't come off as dangerous, but it definitely left him feeling uneasy. Like a headache that's just barely there, suffocating his thoughts. He's felt that before. It clouded his actions and judgements during his fight with-

“Hey, uh.. Be careful around that deer guy, will you? He seems pretty intimidating. Not to me, of course, but you know. Just in case.”

“Just in case of what?” You leaned forward, with your elbows on the table, propping your chin up. “Are you jealous?”

“Wha-What?? Of course not, I'm the king of Hell, I obviously trump him in every aspect.” There it was. There was that cocky, little bundle of nerves you used to know all those years ago. Everything finally hit you with the lost time, seeing that side of him.

“Lucifer, I missed so much. I wanted to be there for her, for Charlie.. I know I was just a babysitter, but there was so much more I wanted to do, so many things I wish I could've seen with her. With you, too.” You placed your hand overtop of his, just as he did to you earlier. He obviously wasn't expecting the reciprocation, flinching slightly at your touch.

“I guess I get what you're saying.. about taking that day back? That maybe if I didnt attack you the way I did, that I could be there longer. But… I was in love, Lucifer.” He stifled any giggles at the idea that you considered that kiss an attack, but nothing mattered after what you had said. He immediately flushed in the face at your words.

“In love..?” He barely whispered the words, his eyes sparkling. He felt a stabbing sensation in his chest, a familiar one, but still one that he hadn't felt in years.

“Yeah.. hm, it would've happened sooner or later, I think. I think I would've done it at some later point, if it didnt happen then.. I guess I'm just glad I left before Charlie could remember me. It all worked out, so - I guess what i’m saying is - we can try. Let's try being friends, again.”

What a bittersweet resolution.

“Okay. I'd like that.” He was fighting off any unwanted feelings. Burying any ideas to just profess that he felt the same way, and that he still does. That he wants to pick back up right where you left off. That he barely kept the longing, of feeling your lips against his, at bay. No matter how hard that was, things were looking up. Don’t blow it, Lucifer.

You chatted for a little while longer. You told him about your struggles after you were fired, all your interactions in Cannibal Town, the good and bad, then your eventual arrival at the hotel. The conversation lightened a bit, as you told stories about Charlie, giving him a much needed update on how she was doing when she wasn't stressing about a visit from him. You went on, talking about the other residents that he didnt have a chance to interact with last time. Obviously, that part of the conversation went into heavy detail about Alastor and all his little gifts and kindness.

Before you noticed, Lucifer held the edges of his chair, his hands gripping tightly into the metal at every little sigh or giggle you'd make in reference to something Alastor did. He'd dismiss it as jealousy for now. But that didn't stop him from rerunning that one moment in his mind. The moment where he was holding you. Touching the small of your back, just like how he used to.

The way you stood so close to him, that he could wrap his slender arm completely around your waist, and the confidence in your dismissal of Luficer's general presence. It was commendable, no matter the subject, he loved seeing your more confident side. Your words still hurt. The topic eventually came up.

“Oh god, Lucifer! I'm so sorry, I almost forgot about that.. I didnt mean anything, that was completely rude of me to treat you like that. I felt something come over me, seeing your face again, I just - I don't know, it was probably just some repressed rage? I'm sorry.” He quickly waved his hands, offering you reassurance in your actions, admitting that he felt he deserved it after everything.

“Don't say that, I was out of line. What you did to me doesn't excuse my actions.” You admitted. Was forgiveness possible in this situation? He had pushed the possibility so far down in his mind that a mutual respect seemed like an unachievable goal. And any reciprocated feelings were merely a dream.

This felt like a dream.

You asked how he was. He didn't hear that question often, so he didn't really answer with fun stories or anything exciting. His mind went into autopilot after you left. And after Lillith left, a lot of memories seemed suppressed. You asked about Charlie. He was worried you'd do that.

“Well- She uh.. went through her whole teenage phase, you know, goth makeup, boyfriends, a bunch of stuff she grew out of. She spent more time with.. her m-mother, though.. as she got older. But hey! Here she is now, doing the whole hotel thing, I'm very proud of her.” He nodded, clearly ready to move off the topic. But you weren’t.

“She looked up to you, you know. A lot. Oh man, she would cry for you all the time, constantly try to get into your workshop - as cute as it was, I wasn't ready to chase her down all the time. And i’d say she still looks up to you, Lucifer. You inspired her, I can tell.” You swayed the backwash of your tea in your cup, the pot was emptied long ago. Looking up, you see a trembling smile then watch him exhale a shaky sigh.

“Thank you.” He said softly. You couldn't stop yourself from leaning towards him a bit, after placing your cup down with a small clink.

Stop, Don't do this again.

Things might be different this time, but it can only go wrong in some other way, you were sure of it. Still, he leaned in as well. As you got closer, ready to shut your eyes to the reality and just let your fantasies take over, he reeled back, cover his nose and mouth with his hand. You jumped back, clearly embarrassed. He wouldnt call attention to it, leaving you to wonder what went wrong, but the scent from the sweater. It was disgusting to him.

“O-Okay, good catch up. I should get going, I - umm.. I promised Charlie I'd help her with something, so..” That was a lie. But if you spent another moment in that room with him alone, you'd have no control over what happened next.

“Oh.. right. Here -” He rose from his chair and opened the portal back up, leading to the same hallway you were in before. Turning back to him as he approached you, neither of you really said goodbye. Neither of you wanted to say goodbye. After an awkward exchange of trying to figure out if this should end with a handshake, a wave, a kiss - nope not that one. a kiss would be too much. But a hug?

Lucifer carefully placed his arms around you, encasing you close to his chest. He could feel your heart rate increase. The scent of your cardigan you wore overwhelmed him, but he refused to let go after feeling your arms lay comfortably around the back of his waist.

Good lord, this man hadn't gotten any in centuries. it took all of his strength to not trail his hands underneath that damned sweater and pull it off of you, feeling his way up your torso, sliding just the clawed tips of his fingers under your shirt until you -

“Lucifer?” Your words were mumbled, your face pressed against his chest after he had tightened his grip.

“Hoof- sorry.” He quickly pulled away. You immediately missed the touch, but it was definitely for the best. For both of you.

“Well, Thanks for coming by.. you have my number..? Right! Call me whenever you want, I'm not busy-” Sure. The king of Hell wasn't busy. He just didn't want to admit that he’d drop anything he was doing if it meant hearing your voice. You nodded your head, taking a firm grip on his hand as you stepped carefully out of the portal and back into the hotel.

“I'll see you, Lucifer.” You said sweetly, he visibly melted at your words.

“I hope so.” With a quick wave, the portal cinched shut.

---

Alastor stood in the hallway, right where the portal had closed, greeting you with a stretched smile.

“Darling! How was your little visit? I wasn't expecting him to sweep you off your feet so soon, I hope it went well.” He approached you, tapping his microphone to the ground and leaning into you.

“You never called for me, I’m hoping he didn’t hurt you. Again.” His voice crackled and a high pitch ring made you cover your ears for a moment.

“No, Alastor, it was good! We're gonna try and work things out, see if we can be friends again. I think it went the best it could, if you ask me.” You hummed with a sense of confidence, strolling dwon the hall with Alastor following beside you. You didn't notice his eye twitch and his ears folding back at the mention of his full name. He was losing you.

“Just be careful, dear! We don’t want you to make any mistakes again, do we?” He had no idea what he was talking about. Right? You hadn’t told him anything.

“Well, it’s about time I run some of my errands. Let me know if I can be of service to you.” A signature greeting for you at this point, Alastor reaches for your hand and presses another kiss across your knuckles. He looks up at you the way he usually does, but he let his lips linger for just a moment longer. Shutting his eyes for a moment, he tilted your hand to place his nose against the sleeve of your gifted sweater, inhaling the scent and exhaling with a hum.

“R-right, I will. Thanks.” You pulled away from his grasp, his eyes suddenly shooting open. You pulled away from him. That hasn't happened before. He wasn't nervous, exactly. But he did disappear into his shadow, which darted down the hall in the blink of an eye, leaving you with nothing but innocent curiosity.

♡ ♡ ♡

To be continued! Stay Tuned ;)

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rubra-wav · 3 months

Text

Taking care of the main cast while they're sick

Cw: SFW, gn!reader, platonic, very briefly suggestive in Angel's, in the order of who gets sick first - last

<< [ Part 1 ]

Charlie

- She's truly a wet cat when she gets sick.

- Will not stop crying and being emotional the whole time. She hates not being able to sing or go out and about.

- Is even more emotional when you volunteer to take care of her as you're no longer as likely to get sick again.

- She's so happy she's not gonna be all alone.

- She hates being locked away in her room and not being able to participate in group activities.

- Insists they still go on without her like she's about to die from not being able to be there with them.

- Charlie spends the whole time wrapped up in a blanket in bed and watching kids' movies. I hope you like Disney movies, because she won't put on anything else.

- Says they make her 'heart' feel not sickly like she is.

- You will be cuddling her because if not, she won't stop sobbing. Vaggie is keeping her distance from her because she doesn't want to get sick too.

- I hope you're also ready to get your ear talked off by a very passionate dreamer who's been under house lock for a week because oh boy.

- For the last few days, she's gonna be trying to leave her room or convince you to let her leave. She's going antsy and stir-crazy by the end of it.

- She's extremely clingy to you as you're essentially her caretaker for the week she's sick.

- Eventually Vaggie caves in to ger girlfriend, and takes over for you anyways. Then Vaggie catches it. 💀

- Apologetic afterwards to you.

Vaggie

- She's disappointed but not really surprised.

-Probably the best and most composed of all of them when she gets sick.

- She doesn't too much like being seen sick as it makes her feel vulnerable, but when you assure her you don't think any less of her she's a lot less stiff about you being there.

- She will just chill in her room the whole time, probably reading or writing notes to remind her to do stuff when she gets out.

- The whole time she just sighs, sounding extra irritated and absolutely done with life.

- She needs to sit in darkness most of the time because she keeps getting migraines.

- Will absolutely insist she can look after herself and that she doesn't need someone near her at all times like Charlie.

- Will accept you bringing her food, helping with her duties guarding, and bringing her reports about what's gone on around the hotel.

- Really appreciates the reports actually.

- By the end of it she's considering bringing you on to possibly permanently help her out because you absolutely would be helpful.

- Most of her socialisation energy is taken up by Charlie, so she's very likely just gonna wanna be left on her own through most of it.

Niffty

- Despite being told not to, Niffty goes into the room's of those who are sick to clean, and that's how she gets sick.

- An absolute fucking nightmare to look after. It's not just you, it's also Vaggie who needs to keep her at bay.

- She doesn't understand 'rest' and 'quarantine', those do not exist.

- There will have to be a 24/7 watch on her to keep her in her room because my God, she does not sleep and stays just as insane but becomes delirous.

- Will be there barely able to stand and still cleaning.

- You will literally have to pick her up and carry her kicking back to her room.

- The only way to get her to go sleep is to get her a tranquiliser.

- There's a greatly annoying back and forth between Alastor, you and Vaggie as Alastor has the tranquilliser she usually has but just refuses.

- Thank christ when Angel just goes 'fuck this' and gets another type like it to knock her out.

- After that it's better. Niffty becomes extremely clingy to you or Vaggie while she's sedated. Vaggie walks out after the solution is found, leaving you to take care of her on your own.

- So you just cuddle her while doing whatever you have brought to do in her room.

- Afterwards she's probably gonna be clinging to you extra. She's imprinted on you during this period low-key

- It's exhausting, and you don't succeed in stopping her from spreading germs (which is ironic considering she's supposedly the clean one)

- Pentious, Husk and Angel all get sick in quick succession after Niffty.

Pentious

- His 1800's ass is gonna be so dramatic.

- Not overdramatic, because he's scared for obvious and understandable reasons.

- But still dramatic.

- He's gonna be needing reassurance every three seconds on this, and even then, he's gonna be all weepy.

- Straight up thinks he's gonna die.

- "Bring me out to the garden one last time" type attitude.

- When it becomes clear he's not going to die in approximately 10 seconds, he calms down a bit, but he's still super anxious.

- Will absolutely want to cuddle you (along with his egg boys) while he's still super delirious.

- You gotta like tight hugs because when I say cuddle, I mean he will be full-body wrapping around you with his tail around your legs and arms around your shoulders.

- Denies it happening outright after his temperature comes down, though, and is super embarrassed.

- Cheers up at about the 4 day mark.

- Stays in his room with you and probably just discusses and brainstorms ideas for different kinds of weapons and machines.

- Tbh, after he's not contagious anymore and can leave again, he's probably gonna be jealous that you're no longer giving him as much attention as you were.

Angel

- Oh, he's so mad about it.

- He dodged getting sick off of you, Charlie and Vaggie only to get sick because Niffty refused to stay down.

- The whole time he's also really anxious because he's scared Val is gonna order him to come in while he's unwell and force him to still into the studio to do some weird sickness kink type shit.

- Luckily, Val doesn't reach out at all in the time he's sick.

- Him, Husk and you kinda just chill out together doing stuff like watching movies and talking shit.

- Vaggie orders them to stick together to avoid the chance of infecting anyone a second time, and the whole time you're near them, you need to wear a mask.

- Angel is not a clingy sick person. In fact, he doesn't wanna be cuddled at all (at least in the first few days)

- Doesn't like you seeing him sick because he thinks it's super gross.

- He's getting too hot and then too cold every 3 seconds and is super annoyed over it. Just keeps angrily putting on layers and then taking them off again.

- He doesn't like getting cuddled, but he does like you taking care of him and asking if he needs anything, and you reassuring him he'll get better soon.

- He so rarely gets taken care of in that way, so he absolutely eats it up.

- Probably takes to sarcastically calling you parental nicknames when you tell him he has to take meds/eat/drink whatever.

- He starts going absolutely stir crazy by the end of it as well, he hates being cooped up.

- Very appreciative when he's finally able to gtfo and do stuff again.

Husk

- He's by far the most pissed off about getting sick (that you're aware of at least)

- He kept trying to tell Niffty to go away and go to bed, but she just kept clinging to him.

- The whole time he's unwell, he has to suffer through Alastor laughing at him, which all makes it so much worse.

- Alastor just periodically shows up to bully him, and you need to call Vaggie to kick him out for you.

- Husk does not like you trying to take care of him, and will promptly tell you to fuck off with no hesitation if you start trying to caretake him outside of getting him food and stuff.

- He's also not happy because when he's really delirious, he is actually extremely affectionate.

- The whole time he's running a fever and especially sick, he will be trying to cling to anything around but especially you.

- Does the type of thing during that period that animals do when you stop petting them and they just. Start whining and looking at you pleadingly for more attention.

- He's horrendously embarrassed about it.

- He relaxes a bit when you promise him not to ever bring it up again, but he's still extremely grumpy.

- Especially because he lowkey blames you as you're the root of the sickness, even though you did everything right with isolating and trying to make sure nobody else caught what you had.

- His appreciation is fairly low in comparison to the others.

Alastor

- Sick? Take care of him?

- HA. Funny joke.

- He doesn't get sick.

- At least, that's what he says and is absolutely fucking horrified and furious when he actually does end up unwell.

- He tries to hide it behind him being 'busy' in his radio tower and 'to leave him alone to his devices'

- Will never ever admit he's sick, let alone allow you to truly take care of him. Even the thought fills him with such disgust that his smile almost wavers.

- You don't see or hear from him the whole time, but you can tell he's sick. Some kind of intuition.

- You just bring him stuff to eat, drink and take and leave it outside the door - hauling ass tf away as you knock on the door.

- He still knows you know and are bringing him stuff, and it pisses him off massively.

- He doesn't ever bring it up though afterwards, and if you do? You're gonna suffer ngl.

Masterlist

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hwallazia · 2 months

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SOOTHE ME, SUGAR

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

word count: 1,5k

tags: fluff, fluff, and fluff (you’ve been warned), comfort, slice of life, bf!san, non idol!au, blood (since we're talking abt menstruation), nicknames (princess, love, sannie, darling, sweetheart), very relatable (ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ) so, enjoy

taglist: @bro-atz | comment your username if you wanna be added to my permanent taglist! ♡

synopsis: just a small scenario of how I imagine San pampering his girlfriend when it’s that time of the month for her.

| a/n: lowercase is intentional! (wrote it at 1:00am, half asleep (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠))

| song rec: ocean eyes — billie eilish, love songs — kaash paige, sparks — coldplay

“sannieee”

you moaned from your bed, wrapped in the sheets like a burrito, your knees knocking against your chest in search of some kind of relief. your belly generated pressure throughout your lower area that became more unbearable as the minutes passed, which seemed to be hours. fortunately, san knows how to act in the most docile way in these cases.

as soon as you finished college, you and san decided to live together without having the slightest idea of how challenging, exciting, and companionable that process would be. both of you, although you were in a relationship before living together, had to know, respect, and get used to each other’s home habits, since it would be something you would live with for a long time.

it was somewhat difficult to understand san’s attitudes, which varied depending on his momentary needs, how tired he was, and other factors that affected his behavior in the apartment. but with a lot of patience and love, you managed to understand at least the basics of what you should know about the topic: “choi san and home.” the path you had to take to know the person “choi san” in its entirety was a long one and one that you were willing to walk until the end of your days if necessary.

there was no shortage of discussions; there were many that were needed to be able to understand aspects of both him and you. when faced with an argument, san, first of all, would dedicate himself to listening to what you have to say, he would pay all of his attention to listening to your sentimental and very expressive arguments. once you’re done, he’d continue saying his and finally give a solution to the problem that divides you and wait for your excellent approval.

despite being very understanding and collected in discussions, san hates them with all his being; although he’s a tall man with a strong body, his heart is still soft and as delicate as glass. he hates that a simple disagreement of opinions causes a division with you, the person he loves the most, respects, and for whom he would give his life.

but he knows how to suppress his discontent very well in the face of absurd discussions for which you don’t speak to each other for hours, and even absurder when it’s that time of the month for you. he knows how much your feelings are weakened, how sore you feel throughout that week, in which your need for attention and affection doubles up.

san remembers with affection and laughs that month in which he found you crying in your bed, wrapped in his blankets scented with his essence, because the stuffed animal that you had given him, shiber, had fallen off the bed and, he quotes, “he looked at me very sadly from the ground” and he felt his heart skip a few beats inside his ribcage when a pout formed on your lips at how funny he found the situation. you never seemed so cute to him as you did at that moment.

and the moment san hears your voice whine his name from his room, the mental image was projected in his head without him asking for it or thinking deeply: “you, covered in dark blankets up to your nose with an exaggerated amount of pillows giving you comfort staring at him with pleading eyes as soon as he entered the room.” he couldn’t help but smile fondly.

“coming, love” he says, a few steps away from the room. thanks to his long legs, with four steps he gets there immediately, gently and respectfully hitting his knuckles against the dark oak door. the muffled ‘come innn’ you say with little strength was the permission he needed to turn the handle.

a sweet hum coming from san echoes through the room as he finds you under the exact same conditions that his mind, infected with you, had outlined. he doesn’t wait for you to say another word and he sits on the edge of the bed, watching you with so much love that he could never express verbally.

“how are you feeling?” he simply asks, without being so insistent or trying to bombard you with questions, thus avoiding causing you any annoyance. you have enough of what you were dealing with now.

“awful. the pressure down there has become unbearable, and now i don’t feel my legs.” you stopped for a moment to analyze your reality and the poor physical condition you were in. “i feel dizzy, kind of hungry and numb. but not like emotionally numb, because i wanna cry so badly but i can’t get anything out of my eyes.”

your hands go up to your eyes, under the sheets, covering them in frustration. “fuck, i hate this so much.”

san finally starts talking, soothing you with his honey-dripping voice. “shh, princess. one breath at a time. come on” he brings his palms, which were facing the ceiling, and rests them on your stomach, implicitly indicating that you hold his hands.

breath in and out, in and out. you stay like that for about thirty seconds, maintaining eye contact, his eyes conveying nothing but love and comfort to you. “thaat’s it. perfect.” he praises you, giving you the purest smile known to men, which does nothing but wrinkle your heart a little with tenderness.

“do you still have enough sanitary napkins and tampons?”

you appreciate and appreciated, from the first beginning, in which san became excellently familiar with all the technical vocabulary characteristic of this week that was so painful for both you and san. “no, but-”

he interrupts you and asks again “you want me to go get you some more in the supermarket? maybe some chocolate as well?” it seemed so sweet to you how generous and helpful he was to you when this time of the month came around.

“not really.” you pause briefly, squinting your eyes in search of the perfect plan that would calm, at least for a few hours, your impressive menstrual pain. until the right idea hits your head. “honestly, i just wanna cuddle here, with you.”

another sugary hum is audible. “if that’s what my princess wants, then that’s what she gets.” he sentences as if he was a soldier of a castle in which you are the queen of the “choi san’s heart” kingdom and san is nothing more than your faithful and most beloved servant. he leans towards you to place a fond kiss on your warm forehead, saturated with pain.

you shift in place, moving to the right so that san joins you from the left. ss soon as both of you are already warmly covered by the sheets, smeared with the smell of floral essences, your hand is quick to locate the remote control, pointing it in front of you to turn on the television and immediately go to the netflix app.

while your fingers insistently press the control buttons in search of a movie that meets the common cinematographic interests of both of you, san’s hand is agile in sneaking into your shirt —well, san’s— and cupping your waist in his palm, his fingers tracing scribbles on your skin, calming the pain, the tension and your mind. the magic that san has between his fingers and how they affect you is a divine mystery that would require his own science and study method.

“sannie” you pronounce his name in a faint whisper, disconnecting your eyes from the big screen to focus on the perfect face of your perfect boyfriend, totally forgeting the movie and focusing in his ethereal details.

“yes, darling?” he drones, looking at you adoringly. he truly couldn’t believe how you, an angel fallen from heaven, could be his and only his. and that you decide to stay by his side until the end of your days was the most genuine and beautiful demonstration that any lover has ever given him. definitely, you are different and san would risk it all for you. of course he would.

“thanks for everything. for understanding me and being able to be that mountain on which i can rest when i’m exhausted.” you say, truly meaning every single one of your words. “thank you for being you and for choosing me.”

san’s heart is reciting all the existing love songs to yours. his heart is yours and yours alone, giving itself fully to your love, and yours is the sun that warms his soul, casting golden rays of affection that dance across the canvas of his heart, painting it in hues of devotion.

“no, princess, you have nothing to thank me for.” he stops for a moment. “i’m the one who should thank you; for allowing me to be your boyfriend and please you, for being so patient with me. i know that i’m not an easy person to understand, and the fact that you voluntarily decide to stay here with me only makes me fall in love with you even more; even when i think i can’t love you more than i already do.” san confesses and, in just a matter of seconds, he manages to observe in close-up how in your precious irises tears start to well up in your eyes, causing him to let out a soft giggle, finding it cute. “why are you crying, sweetheart?”

you sniffed. “because you’re just too sweet to me and it makes me emotional. you really are the best boyfriend in the world, choi san.”

“oh baby.” he hugged your anatomy between his strong arms as he laughed softly, giving you a warmth and security unique in the world. “i love you, yn. “so much.”

| masterlist

#hwallazia #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #choi san fluff #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #san x reader #choi san #san fluff #choi san x reader #san imagines #san fanfic

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oddinary4bts · 9 months

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When the End Comes | ch 1 (jjk)

☆summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?

☆pairing: photographer!Jungkook x lawyer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in every chapter)

☆genre: breakup!au, slice of life!au, angst with a big A, smut

☆warnings: angst, like. Just angst. Curse words, Jungkook's car, mentions of Jungkook's accident, mention of reader getting kicked out in TFS, explicit content: breast/nipple play, hickey, oral sex (female and male receiving), fingering, hair pulling, jerking off, squirting, praise, pain kink (Jungkook), balls squeezing (lmao), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

☆word count: 9.4k

☆series masterpost

☆a/n: First chapter is here and it's time to CRY (I apologize in advance for the therapy bills) :') Thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing this, you are the best <3 and thank you to @jessikahathaway for supporting me with this project, you are amazinnng

☆Read The Forgotten Spaces here, the prequel to When the End Comes! It does not need to be read to understand When the End Comes, but I think it still should be read first to have a better understanding of the characters in general!

☆Add yourself to the taglist here (if you were on the taglist for The Forgotten Spaces, you're already on the taglist for When the End Comes!)

☆☆☆☆☆

But love never leaves a heart, where it found it, found it You found it Someday, I'll fall into you That's where I'll be now when the end comes

When the End Comes, Andrew Belle

☆☆☆☆☆

Wednesday, April 19th

The setting sun turns the living room into liquid gold, bathing you in golden warmth that traces your features delicately from where you sit on the couch. Spring is upon you – outside, you can hear birds singing, and the gentle wind of spring carries the smell of melted snow, of wet soil and of early leaves.

You sigh. Your phone has been dead silent all day, as it’s been for weeks now, and the loneliness of it keeps the winter cold close. Always.

Jungkook said he would call. He often says it, often promises he wants to go to sleep with your voice at his ear, since he can’t sleep with you in his arms. Years ago, when he first started his job in Europe, he did, calling you every night when you got home from work and he went to sleep in a European city too far from you.

He usually leaves for a few months at a time. Never more than three, and he usually stays for a month after that before leaving again. He’s been photographing for museums all over Europe, and his latest job at the Louvres in Paris seems to have been keeping him more occupied than the others.

You’d think it’d make sense – the Louvres is the Louvres. But you miss Jungkook. Miss the early years of your relationship, when you spent almost every day together. When he moved in with you in your first apartment, the one he had found for you while you weren’t even dating yet.

A deep ache has settled inside of you this time around. Because, even if he says he’ll try, even if he promised it wouldn’t be like the last time he was away, this time is worse. Far worse. You’ve only spoken to him on the phone once since he left half a month ago, and he texts you sparingly throughout the week.

You never thought there would come a day when your relationship with Jungkook wouldn’t be what it was at the beginning. Hell, the honeymoon phase lasted for almost three years, and then you had another year before he started working overseas. The first months he had spent away had rekindled the flame, passion and desire burning through you the moment you laid your eyes on him again the day he had come back.

But distance is difficult. Distance can tame even the wildest flame, and you’re starting to believe it has tamed the flame between you and Jungkook. You hate it – every night for a week you’ve fallen asleep with a heart so heavy it felt as if you weren’t going to wake up. And every day you’ve woken up feeling even worse, and you don’t know what’s going to help anymore.

You turn your head, catching sight of the frames on the shelves by the window. They too bathe in setting sunlight, shining like the glass is made of gold. From where you’re sitting, you can’t really see the pictures, but you know them by heart.

There are the pictures from his first photo exhibit, when you were still in college. Pictures of you, of him falling in love with you and you falling in love with him. Then there are pictures of that first Christmas, and of the first time you celebrated your birthday with him. Pictures of you, of him holding you, and of his hand in yours. Pictures from when Jiho gave birth to her first child Lisa, and then a picture with you two on a camping trip with Lisa and her younger brother Charles. That trip happened two summers ago, replacing your usual annual visit to a cabin in the woods, the year after the dance crew retired. Because as much as you and your friends loved that cabin in the woods, loved the dance crew, you eventually grew out of it.

There are pictures from Heather and Bridget’s wedding last fall, pictures of your story with Jungkook as it unfolded through the years.

No new pictures have been added since that last picture in the fall, because nothing worth taking pictures of happened since then. Jungkook has been gone most of the time, and when he’s here he’s too tired to do anything, preferring staying in and cuddling on the couch as you watch hours of Netflix without ever speaking.

You see the doom. It’s been coming for you, tightening around you like a scourge. Nothing you’ve been trying to do has helped – not even the nice lingerie pictures you sent him two nights ago. Not even the letter you wrote for him, though he did have flowers delivered to you at the firm.

Your coworker Harrison made fun of you for the flowers, teasing you like he’s taken to teasing you whenever something related to Jungkook happens. Which, as much as you hate admitting, is not much anymore.

Sometimes, when he’s away, you think he’s a ghost in your life. You wish you could turn back time and go back to the night where it all started between you. The July night of years ago, or perhaps the night of the hotel roof in Chicago. You struggle to pinpoint where you’d go back, but you do believe that anything would be better than the now.

You blink away the blurriness in your eyes, taking a deep breath to steady the aching beats of your heart. You glance at your phone – your empty notification screen stares back at you, a reminder that for all he says, he’s stopped trying this time around.

You figure you could call him. Could make the effort, but you’re tired. Tired of trying when it seems like it doesn’t work anymore. And so your aching heart keeps beating in your chest, and you put your phone away to cook dinner when it’s become clear that he won’t call.

And when you go to bed, after having taken the dog out one last time, your phone still lies empty, the picture of you and him that you have as a background taunting you, haunting you until troubled sleep finds you in its hold.

Friday, May 5th

Jungkook hates himself. Hates how every time he says he’ll call you, he ends up falling asleep. He doesn’t know why; it’s like his heart fights against his body. But tonight, he’s determined to call. He’s been meaning to show you the lights of the Eiffel tower, when the clock strikes midnight, and he promised he will tonight.

You haven’t replied to his text. He’s been feeling you slipping through his fingers for a few weeks. You barely reply when he talks to you anymore, sending one-worded answers most of the time. Maybe that is the reason why he’s been struggling to call – there’s an impending doom lingering around your relationship, and he wants to avoid it for as long as he can.

He’s been replaying your fight earlier last week on repeat since it happened. You, screaming that he said he was going to change, was going to try to call more and make more effort before he went to Paris. Him, telling you that you should be understanding, that he’s doing his best and that most nights he goes to bed before you’ve even finished work. You’d told him sometimes you wished you could hate him, as it’d be easier than loving him from afar. The words struck harder than a physical blow could have, and since then the doom has been clearer in the distance, as if it’s getting closer.

Just thinking about it hurts too much. He can’t wait for his contract with the Louvres to be done. Can’t wait to be home, and to tell you in person just how much he loves you.

He thinks his love has just been growing stronger. Through all the years, it’s just been growing inside of him, making him into a better person with every beat of his heart. The thought brings a smile to his lips, strangely enough, even though there’s still pain in his heart.

He still remembers when you first got Bam. He thinks that day is the one that made his love grow the most, until he thought his heart was going to burst in his chest. It fortunately never did, and he looks at his phone’s background quickly, needing to see you.

There you are, in all your glory. Hair a mess as you hold a tiny puppy in your arm, with your eyes sparkling like they’re holding the light of the universe. Of his universe, and it hasn’t changed. Still, today he knows if he were to see you, you still would hold the light of his universe.

After all, it started a July night seven years ago, and it’s never going to go away.

Thirteen days until he’s going to be home. And he decided to take a longer break this time around – he doesn’t have another contract yet. He’s been approached by the Victoria and Albert museum in London, but he’s told them that he likely won’t be able to go until late October.

They said they’ll be happy to have him whenever his schedule allows.

He’s yet to tell you – it’s a surprise, and he reckons your relationship terribly needs it. And he’s excited, as it means months that he’ll get to spend with you.

He’s going to take some small photography jobs back home until then, and spend the rest of his time with you, whenever you’re not at the firm. He reckons he can always meet you there for lunch – he used to do that when you first got the job at the firm where your father used to work.

Jungkook sighs, and he glances at the time on his phone. It’s almost time to call, and he’s proud he’s been able to stay up, sitting on the balcony of his Airbnb, watching the Eiffel tower in the distance.

The Louvres is paying for the Airbnb, and they really chose one of the best in the city. The view of the tower is beautiful, night and day, the architecture of it satisfying in ways he can barely comprehend. He took pictures of it through the different weathers, and he’s excited to show you when he’ll be back.

Five minutes before the clock strikes midnight, Jungkook lets out a long yawn as he goes to your profile, hitting the Facetime button. He’s told you he would call, up to the very minute, and he doesn’t want to disappoint this time around.

He watches his face on the screen as it rings. It rings and rings, and yet you don’t pick up. Something unsettling grows in his gut, and he pulls at his lip piercing in worry as he calls again when the call claims it failed to connect.

He tries four times more, until the Eiffel tower is sparkling in the distance, and your form still has yet to appear. So he looks up, watches the show and then heads to bed, each of his step feeling heavier than the last.

The next morning, he wakes up to some texts of yours.

[04:21 am] bby <3: sorry, i was out for dinner with friends from work [04:22 am] bby <3: I assume u’re asleep now? [04:41 am] bby <3: good night

For some reason, he can’t bring himself to reply.

Thursday, May 18th

It’s been raining all week. The world, crying as if it’s coming to an end. It’s unsettling, and you miss the sunrays. Miss the warmth that they carry, because now the world seems void of any.

You’re not looking forward to going home. It’s the first time that the thought of seeing Jungkook is scaring you – you have a feeling the distance between you is more than just physical, and you’re afraid to see him.

Afraid to be faced with the fact that everything changed irreparably.

You’ve slept in his clothes every night of May. It hasn’t made you feel closer to him, has only made you feel like he’s drifting further away, like a piece of wood lost at sea, pulled away by the current. And as much as you long for his return, you fear he’s crossed a threshold now.

You fear you’re not into it anymore.

The thought has made you cry countless times. You never thought you’d get to a moment in life when splitting with Jungkook seemed to be an option. You thought you were made of forever, of an eternity built just for you. You thought he’d always be enough for you, and that you’d always be enough for him too. But when Taehyung and Jo got engaged and said that they’d marry the first weekend of September, you realized that you want that for yourself too.

You want to start growing with your partner, you want them to be around. And Jungkook just isn’t.

You’ve spoken to Jiho about it. A haunting conversation, that you’ve been replaying in your mind constantly since it happened a week and a half ago.

She came over, only to find you cradling the picture of the July night sky, the one Jungkook had given you after his exposition. She sat next to you, tired eyes surveying your profile. When you started crying, she pulled you in a hug, and held you against her chest as you sobbed.

When you calmed down, she ran a soothing hand on your back. She waited for you to patiently find your words, and when you had, they spilled from your mouth, with no dam to stop them anymore.

“I think I’m going to break up with him,” you told her. It had you chasing more tears away, hating the weakness of your heart as it broke in your chest. “I can’t do the distance anymore. I want something like you and Hobi have, like Jo and Taehyung have. I want someone to wake up to every day and… I don’t… I don’t think loving him is enough anymore.”

She offered you a sad smile, her features sober as she nodded once. “Will you regret it?”

A lone tear spilled on your cheek, holding all the answers she needed. You let it roll down your cheek, let it fall in your lap. Jiho nodded once again, understanding, and added, “I’ll be there for you.”

Your decision was made that day. You don’t think you’ll change your mind, but you’re afraid to see him. Afraid to be faced with the reality of it.

The worst part is, you think you already started getting adjusted to living without him. Hell, the distance has been a good training, so you think you’ll be okay after. It’s just the during that scares you, because you know that when he breaks, you break too.

You know how much you broke for him once. You know you’ll break again, know the first days are going to be hell, but you know that in the long term, it’s the right decision.

At least you hope so.

Jungkook texted you that he got home in the middle of the afternoon, and that he was going to take a nap. He said he couldn’t wait to see you, and you’ve had to swallow countless lumps in your throat whenever you’ve thought of the words.

You take a deep steadying breath as your shift ends, leaving you with no choice but to head home. Harrison notices your fallen features, and he offers you a kind smile.

“It’s going to be okay,” he promises.

You want to tell him he’s a liar, but all you do is offer him a tight-lipped smile in return.

*****

The apartment in soundless when you finally reach home. Outside, the wind plays in the leaves, splashing water against the windows. It makes for a relaxing sound, yet it does nothing to relax you.

You take off your shoes by the door and drop your purse on the small table just a few steps in as Bam comes to greet you. You pet the dog mindlessly, scanning your surroundings to see if Jungkook is coming too, but it seems he fell asleep. You stop by the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water as you survey the world outside the window, hoping it holds any kind of solace. It doesn’t – the world is crying, and you think by the end of the night there’s a high chance you will be crying too.

You sigh, try to swallow around the lump in your throat but it doesn’t work. You choke on a sip of water, and startle when Jungkook asks if you’re okay.

You didn’t hear him sneaking up on you.

You turn around, the sense of impending doom growing tenfold at the thought that he’s going to be right there, in the flesh, when you set your eyes on him. And he is – a sleepy Jungkook is standing in the door of the kitchen, leaning against the frame as he offers you a small, tired smile.

You’re not sure what to do at first, and when he opens up his arms for you you rush towards him, leaving the glass of water on the counter.

His embrace is familiar, warm. If he wasn’t gone for so long, you think it’d be enough to keep you here, forever. You both remain silent, and your heart beats achingly in your chest as you try to hold him closer, as if you can be one.

As if that’ll make him stay.

“Hey,” he says, voice choked with emotion.

You only hold him tighter, and tears burn behind your closed eyelids as you hide your face in his neck. He smells familiar, like home. He smells like the clothes you’ve been wearing in an attempt to gather the courage to break up with him.

You hate yourself deeply, then. You think about the years, and aren’t they enough? Isn’t the love enough?

He grabs your shoulders, delicately, to push you away. And then his hands move to your cheeks, and he’s tilting your head back to press his soft, pink lips against yours. It’s barely just a peck, and it hurts so much you think you’ll die.

“How was work?” he asks when he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours.

You breathe in slowly, and then out, your breath mingling with his in the space between you. “Long,” you answer, because it’s the truth.

“I’ll cook you dinner,” he says.

If he notices you holding your breath as your heart keeps on breaking, he doesn’t say. Instead, he pulls away, leaves you standing by the door as he moves in the room proper. You’re not sure you’ll survive a dinner with him, not when the inevitability of what you’re going to do is looming over you, like a sword of Damocles ready to cut the link between you and him.

“Okay,” you breathe out.

You sit at the table as he fishes ingredients out of the fridge – stuff you clearly didn’t buy. Which means he went grocery shopping, and you just ache so fiercely the air turns to poison in your lungs.

“Do you want to chop the vegetables?” he asks.

You gulp before nodding curtly. “Sure.”

You move closer to him as he puts said vegetables on the counter, and you grab a knife as he hands you a cutting board. It’s familiar, domestic, and it helps lessen the pain somehow. To have this moment, with him, even though your decision is made.

“You’re silent,” Jungkook comments as you finish dicing an onion.

You purse your lips, head hanging low as you reply, “I’m tired, sorry.”

He turns on the stove, placing a pan on top of it. As he’s putting oil in it, he glances at you. You barely notice from the corner of your eyes, but you still can tell he’s trying to figure how to reach you, in the dark place where your mind has gone.

“Something happened?”

No. Nothing happened. Nothing happened when it should have. Was distance really enough to kill your relationship with him?

Needing the conversation to move away from the current subject, you reply, “Not really.” Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you add, “How was Paris?”

“It sucked,” Jungkook is quick to answer. “It was a lot of work and I barely had time to explore the city.”

“Mmh,” you hum, nodding your head.

You freeze as he moves closer, taking the knife out of your hands. He forces you to turn towards him, and he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I took some pictures of the Eiffel tower for you,” he admits. “It was pretty at night. Made me think of you.”

You shut your eyes tight, and for once you win against the tears that were threatening to spill. “You did?” you let out when your eyelids finally flutter open again. “You can show me over dinner.”

“I’d rather just spend time with you for now,” he says, softly, and you hate that his big, doe eyes feel like heaven. “I… I missed you.”

You think he knows. You both know what’s coming. But you want this last moment with him, so you say, “I missed you too. Way too much.”

“You’ve been sleeping in my clothes,” he teases, but it’s lacking the usual lilt to his voice that makes you roll your eyes playfully.

“Yeah.”

He pulls at his piercing, and you focus on that because his eyes are going to read every little treacherous thought in your head, and you don’t think you’d survive that.

He doesn’t say anything else before he busies himself with putting the onion you diced in the pan. You lean on the counter to watch him cook, handing him the ingredients that you know he’ll need.

You’ve cooked together a thousand times before, and never you would have thought that there’d be a last time. You clench your jaw against the pain, and though you don’t feel hungry, you sit at the kitchen table with him to eat.

You manage to get some food down. Jungkook is an amazing cook, and you’ve always loved his food. It’s something you know you’re likely to miss, when he won’t be around anymore.

Fuck.

After dinner, you do the dishes while Jungkook brings Bam outside, as he usually does when he’s here. He’s back before you’re done, and you focus on finishing to clean the dishes, trying to ignore him.

He’s been silent through the meal, and you’ve avoided the glances he’s sent your way. But when he grabs your wrist, gently, you meet his gaze.

His eyes shine. It takes you a few seconds to register that it’s because tears are welling up in his innocent gaze, and you wish you’d die right on the spot.

“Why is it awkward?” he asks.

You purse your lips and then bite the tip of your tongue, as if it’ll help. “Can we go to bed early?”

You don’t know why you asked that question. You convinced yourself to break up right away, but then again you think you need a last time.

You need a goodbye.

He nods, blinking the tears away. His hand moves until it’s wrapped around yours, and he pulls you to the bathroom. He turns on the shower, but before he’s taken his shirt off you step in front of him, fist closing around a handful of fabric so you can pull him close.

There’s urgency in the kiss, along with yearning. It’s quick, it’s heated and desperate. You wonder if he can taste the goodbye on your tongue – does it taste bitter for him too?

Though he seemed startled from the sudden kiss, he’s quick to kiss you back, to grab your waist and pull you closer, as if that’ll make you stay. And while you kiss your mind runs with the memories – the first time you’d kissed, in that hot tub. The kiss on the hotel roof, the kiss after he’d helped you move in your first apartment.

More than that, it’s a memory from four years ago that resurfaces the most. It takes the centerpiece of the stage of your mind, and you find yourself back in your old apartment, the first one you’d ever had. The day wasn’t a special one – just a random Sunday, one Jungkook convinced you to spend in bed. He’d held you all morning, littering small kisses on the top of your head. At some point, you’d made love, slowly, lazily, as if you had all the time in the world. Halfway through it, Jungkook had stopped, resting his forehead on yours. Against your lips, he’d whispered, “Will you still love me when I’m old and grey and grumpy?”

Back then you’d laughed, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. After, you’d replied, “You know I’ll never stop loving you.”

And as you’re kissing him right now, you hope he knows that you’ll never stop loving him.

His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, seeking to deepen the kiss, and you let him in. Taste the dinner in his mouth, like he’s sure to taste it in yours too. It eases the bitterness somehow, and when his large hands move to your ass, you let out a breathy sound.

He swallows it as if it’s the ambrosia of the gods, and then he pushes you back towards the counter next to the sink. The shower runs in the background as he pulls you on the counter, large hands guiding you. You instinctively spread your thighs to allow him to step closer, and then you wrap your legs around him. His hands find your cheeks again, and he kisses you fervently, hungrily, yet his touch remains gentle on your cheeks, thumbs swiping back and forth.

When oxygen becomes needed, both for you and him, he rests his forehead against yours.

“You think we can wait after the shower?” he teases, and this time it has a little bit of the usual bite.

It only hurts, because now you’re not so sure he’s aware of what’s to come. He probably only thought that it was awkward because of the distance – physical. Not because the end is coming. So you let him believe it, agree to take a shower.

You let him wash your hair, a thing he’s taken to doing six years ago whenever you take a shower together. Something about him liking the scent of your shampoo. After that, you let him wash your back, but you can’t bring yourself to do it for him. To your relief, he admits he took a shower before he napped, to wash away the airplane vibes off him. So it mostly goes unnoticed, and then you’re getting out of the shower. You barely have time to dry yourself before he’s pulling you to your room, to your shared bed.

To the bed where you’ve cried yourself to sleep every night since you’ve made your decision.

He sits you on the bed, thumbs swiping on your cheeks gently when he bends down to peck your lips once.

“I’ll be right back,” he says.

You watch him leave, thinking you should find it funny that he’s butt-naked, as you are. Yet you don’t laugh, just put a hand over your aching heart as you wait for him to come back. It hurts even more when he comes back with your heating pad, a tentative smile on his lips.

“I thought this might help,” he says as he walks over to you, offering it to you.

You look at it, not knowing what to do. “Why?”

“Aren’t you…” he trails off, motioning towards you. “I don’t know, you’ve been weird. Thought you might be on your period, or having cramps?”

He’s too sweet. Too caring. Why can’t he be like this when he’s away too?

“Oh,” you let out. “I’m not.”

He looks puzzled, and his eyes drop to the heating pad in his hands. “Oh. Do you…” He gestures with the heating pad, but you shake your head no. He looks disappointed, and he puts it on the dresser before coming to sit next to you.

There’s a moment of silence, and you glance at the TV on the wall. The black screen reflects the grey light from the rainy world outside, and you turn to look out the window next. The rain is still relentless, and the trees outside look greener, darker, though that might be because the sun set behind the clouds, and night is slowly taking over the world.

Being with Jungkook has never been awkward before, and you hate that it is right now. You’d wish for one last moment, for a memory to treasure, but now you think you might have just been selfish.

He glances at you, pulling at his piercing. “Did something happen with your mother?”

He’s trying. So hard. Doesn’t he feel the distance between you and him?

“No,” you reply.

As a matter of fact, you only talk to your mother three times a year now. Without fault, she calls on Christmas and your birthday, and five years ago you’ve started calling on hers too. Other than that, you barely even text.

“Then…” he trails off before shrugging. “Whatever. Do you want to sleep or should we watch something?”

“Can we watch a studio Ghibli movie?”

Jungkook glances at the Totoro plushie, nestled in the pillows at the head of the bed right next to Appa. “My neighbor Totoro?” You nod once. He offers you a smile, nodding his head too. “Sure. As long as I get to hold you.”

You worry at your lip, though you still say, “Yes.”

A minute later you’re nestled in his embrace, and he’s starting the movie on the TV. You barely can focus though, mind zeroing in on his naked skin against yours. You want to ask him to stop with his overseas job, to come home permanently, to build a future with you here, without distance between you and him. You want to tell him you love him so much it hurts, want to tell him the months away from him are killing you.

All you do is watch the movie as if in a daze, and halfway through it, you tilt your head to look up at him. He sees you looking, and his tongue darts to his piercing as he glances down.

Your eyes go to his lips, and you reach to steal a kiss on them. This time, it’s incredibly slow, painfully so, and his arm tightens around you as his breath gets caught up in his throat.

You rest a hand on his cheek, before sliding it to the nape of his neck to keep him as close as you possibly can. He turns his head to deepen the kiss, and you turn the other way as you push your tongue in his mouth. You gently tug at the hair on the back of his neck, appreciating its silky softness.

Committing it to memory. Remembering when it was so long he could tie it back in a small ponytail, remembering when he cut it shorter for the first time. You’d teased him saying that he was a stranger, and you reckon you’d take that stranger back again.

You’d take the sweet innocence of the third year of your relationship again over what it now is.

Once, you thought you’d always want to see the end. To be able to glance back on the past, to swim in the nostalgia of the memories that it holds. Today, as the end comes, you realize you were wrong.

There’s no beauty in the ending.

Jungkook moves until he’s hovering over you, between your legs. You wrap them around his dainty waist, and you pull him inevitably closer as your hands run in his hair, while his hold him up on each side of your face. It takes him a few seconds, but soon he leans on his elbow, and one of his hands lands on the top of your head while the other moves to cup your breast.

He squeezes gently, fingers expertly pinching your nipple the way he knows that you like it. You moan softly, desperately, and he does it harder as his tongue meets yours.

“Fuck, I missed you so much,” he says as he pulls away, and then he’s littering hot kisses on your jaw, and on your neck. He sucks a hickey on the spot that connects your shoulder to your neck, and then laps at it to ease the sting. He’s still pinching your nipple, and though it hurts you just want more.

He doesn’t disappoint. His kisses move lower, until he’s sucking on your other breast, tongue circling your nipple as it hardens in his mouth. He flicks it once, make sure it’s perched nicely on your chest before he moves to the other one, repeating the action.

Your core heats up with need, but even this demonstration of the passion between you and him doesn’t do anything against the ache of your heart. The pain wins, and you shut your eyes tightly in an attempt to focus on the sensations. To focus on him as he moves lower, slowly, pressing wet kisses on your stomach, down to your pelvis, and then on the inside of your thigh as he pushes your leg on his shoulder.

“I want you,” he murmurs between your legs, as if he’s speaking the words directly to your pussy.

“I want you too.”

That much isn’t a lie. You do want him, all of him, even though you’re aware it’s going to be the last time. So you try to disconnect mind and body, and the moment he sucks on your clit you think you succeed.

You lose your hand in the strands of his hair, tugging as his tongue starts a hellish rhythm on your clit, never once faltering as you squirm under the ministrations. When your juice is coating his chin – which you reckon doesn’t take long – he moves lower, dipping his tongue inside of you.

“So sweet,” he praises once he pulls away, just enough for you to feel his lips moving as he speaks.

“Kook…”

The nickname barely crosses the threshold of your lips, yet the grip he has on your waist, where his hands have found a home, tightens. The only indication that somewhere behind his lustful gaze, Jungkook is aching too.

“Baby…” he says back, and then he returns to press figure-eight on your clit, though this time he pushes a finger inside of you.

It curls to hit the right spot inside of you, and he slowly rubs against it, before he decides better and starts to finger you, slowly. Digit moving in and out, keeping that right arch to make you see stars in no time.

When he adds a second finger, you tug on his hair, hard. Mostly by reflex, but when he meets your gaze as you look down at him, you pull harder. His fingers remain deep inside of you as he meets your lips for a heated kiss that tastes like you, and your hand blindly aims for his dick.

He’s rock hard, as he always is when you fuck for the first time after he’s been away. You sigh in satisfaction, thumb collecting precum on his tip that you spread on his dick. Instinctively, he bucks his hips as you start jerking him off, with the tight grip you know he likes, and you make sure to flick your wrist when you go back up.

He grunts against your lips, and his fingers start to move inside of you again. You don’t know when they stopped, but you know that he’s grown impatient now, and he’s unforgiving. When he pushes his thumb against your clit so that he can rub it at the same time, you moan unashamedly loud, another sound that he swallows like a man starved while his lips move against yours.

You time your ministration on his dick to those of his fingers on you, and soon enough a knot forms at the pit of your stomach. It grows impossibly tight impossibly quickly, and when Jungkook moans in your mouth you lose it, the knot uncoiling as your orgasm finds you.

He fucks you with his fingers through the high, through every wave of your orgasm, your legs shaking as he keeps going until you squirt.

“Good girl,” he praises as you cry out his name, your grip on his dick growing tighter. It has to hurt, but obviously Jungkook likes pain, so he only bucks his hips, seeking for friction.

It brings you back to the present, to this bed, and you return to jerking him off as his fingers leave you empty. He brings them to your mouth, makes you lick them clean until he’s satisfied and pulls them away. He kisses you, languidly, and your tongue dance with his as he grunts from a particularly skilled flick of your wrist.

“I want to suck you,” you say in between kisses, and he doesn’t let you do it for a time.

He’s too focused on your mouth, and you reckon you want him to keep going at it. To trap you in this moment with him, so that it may never end.

So that you may never have to break up with him.

“Can I fuck you first?” he asks, bucking his hips once more. “I want to feel your tight pussy swallowing my cock.”

“I want to suck you,” you insist as he’s sucking a new hickey on your neck.

He pulls away, meets your gaze with a lazy smile on his lips. “Well then of course.”

In another world his comment would have made you laugh, but the only thing it does is make you push him until he’s lying on his back and you’re kneeling next to him.

You look down at his dick. It’s just as pretty as you’ve always thought it was, with the brownish base to the tip that’s currently flushed red with arousal. Precum makes it glisten in the dim light from the world outside, and you let a blob of spit fall on it to add some lubrication to your jerking off.

When you feel ready, you bend down to lick a stripe along his dick, from base to top, following the thick vein. He groans, and he puts your hair in a makeshift ponytail so he can watch as you swirl your tongue around his tip.

The taste of his salty precum fills your mouth, and you hum in contentment. You wrap your lips around his tip, sucking hard once before teasing his frenulum with your tongue. Your free hand moves between his legs, and you grab his balls, massaging them gently.

They’re already tight, and you know he’ll come if you suck him for too long. You still can’t resist, and you take him as far as you can, swallowing around him so he can feel your throat constricting on him. It makes him moan out your name, which in turns makes you moan against him.

“Fuck, baby,” he lets out.

You move up until almost just his tip is in your mouth, before going all the way in once more. And then you start bobbing you head up and down in a quicker fashion as you drool on your chin, your spit coating his dick.

You squeeze his balls once, not daring to do it for longer than a few seconds. You don’t want him to come, so you let go soon after, hand moving to his thigh. You find the hard knot of his scar, and you lightly trace it with your fingers, almost instinctively.

Another part of him that you want to commit to memory. His scars – they made him into the person that was right for you. You hate that distance undid it, wish you could turn back time but alas it’s impossible.

So you focus on his dick, moving your hand away from the scars. He doesn’t let you suck him for a lot longer. Soon, he pulls you away by the hair, bringing you to his mouth instead. You kiss him as you climb on top of him, and right as he pushes his tongue in your mouth, you grab his dick to align it with your entrance.

Even though he fingered you before, he still stretches you as you sink on him, and you let out a broken moan as you dig your nails in his shoulder, where your other hand has been holding you up since you climbed on him.

You sink down until he’s fully imbedded inside of you, and then you rest your hands flatly on his chest, feeling the muscles of his pecs under your palms. You meet his gaze, hating how he’s looking at you carefully. For a moment, you both don’t move, taking the other in, and you’re struck with the realization that maybe he does know. Because his eyes are infinitely sad, infinitely pained, but when he blinks you think you might have imagined it.

You’re going crazy. You used to be able to read him like the back of your hand, but it seems the pain in your heart is keeping you from doing so, from picking up the book where you left off. Perhaps because you’ve gone blind, or maybe you forgot how to read altogether.

Jungkook feels like a stranger.

“Baby,” he lets out.

“Jungkook…”

He wets his lips, and then brings you closer. Forces you to bend down until he’s wrapped his arms around your waist. He starts moving, incredibly slow, and says, “I just want you close.”

It hurts too bad, and you hide your face in his neck. He tightens his grip around you, and after that all that can be heard in the room is your heavy breathing, mingling with the sound of the TV.

He feels healing, as much as he’s breaking you. Or you’re breaking yourself, you don’t know anymore. You wish to stop time, to interrupt the chronology of it, until all that’s left is this moment in time.

You know you can’t.

Jungkook doesn’t stop moving for a long time, as you let out breathy sounds against his neck. He’s not grunting anymore – you don’t think you or he are enjoying this, right now.

“I really want to suck your dick,” you murmur against his neck, lips tickling him.

“You’re not into this.”

Of course he’d sense it. You wrap your arms around his neck as he slips out of you, and you refuse to move for a little eternity.

“I’m okay,” you lie.

“Stop saying that you are,” Jungkook answers, and his voice has taken a cold tone. Maybe because he’s freezing – you don’t think he’d purposefully speak to you like that. “I know you aren’t.”

“Kook…”

He says your name, a loving plea that could have changed the ending, if the months hadn’t passed.

“We need to talk,” you breathe against his neck.

You think you hear his heart breaking. Like a car wreck: it’s so loud you don’t think you’ll make it out of the crash. Only, he did get out of it once – you can only hope he’ll get out again.

He runs his hand on your back, loses it in your hair. He’s gentle, infinitely so, tracing your body to remember you by when you’re gone. At least that’s what you think it is.

“Yeah?” he lets out with a small, quivering voice.

A tear spills from your eye, falling onto the soft skin of his neck.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

He holds you tighter, turning his face so that he can press a kiss to the side of your head. It’s a desperate move – it holds the weight of the universe.

“I…”

He never finishes the sentence. His words are lost to him, and you steel yourself for the glimpse you’ll give him. And when you do, you see his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I can’t do the distance anymore,” you tell him.

He nods once. “I’m staying until November.”

He blurs behind your tears, and they roll down your cheeks freely. You don’t try to dry them, and neither does he.

“But then you’ll go again.”

He doesn’t need to say anything to that, because you both know it to be the truth. His reply is physical: his arms let go of you, falling on the bed on each side of him.

You move to sit next to him, instinctively grabbing a blanket to hide yourself. Jungkook shuts his eyes before pressing the heel of his palms against his eyelids. As if that’ll stop him from crying, from shattering into thousands of little shards that will go by the wind.

The end has come. It’s upon you, it’s right this instant in time. You think you’ll forever hate this moment – will you ever recover?

“It’s just better for both of us,” you say, your voice breaking into a sob on the last words. You wish you could be stronger, but you break too hard for him. “It’s been so hard and… we both don’t try anymore.”

“I’m staying until November,” he repeats. He sounds choked, and when he pushes himself up, allowing you a glimpse of his face again, you see that he too is crying. “Please.”

“Kook…”

“No but…” he stops, laughs a laugh that turns into a sob. “I tried.”

“You didn’t.”

Maybe he did. Maybe to him he did, but it wasn’t what you needed.

“You don’t get to tell me I didn’t,” he says and he scoffs, pain laced with his next words. “When I tried, you were the one that was unavailable.”

Because you were already done then, you realize. It’s a startling realization, and you wish it wasn’t real. But it is, as real as the rain lashing at the window, as the agony in Jungkook’s gaze.

His doe eyes are pained, tormented, and you wish you could ease it. Comfort him, but you’re the source of the torture now.

“Yeah,” is all you manage to say.

He looks at you for a time, holds your crying eyes, and then he loses it, hiding his face in his hands as sobs rock through him. You’re shaking like a leaf where you’re sitting, and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out.

“We can make it work,” he tries.

You’re shaking your head no, sobs racking through you too, when he glances at you. “We can’t. We tried, Kook. We tried and it didn’t work.”

“It’s the distance,” he says. He dries his cheeks, sniffles hard. “What if I drop the job?”

“It’s your dream,” you remind him. “Don’t.”

“I don’t give a shit about this dream if it means losing you,” he insists.

Your expression is apologetic, and suddenly your eyes clear up. Too much – the clarity in your mind feels dizzying.

“It’s too late.”

The words fall like a meteorite – you think they hit harder than the one that killed the dinosaurs, millions of years ago. They hit him so hard you think they disperse the pieces of his heart to the four corners of the Earth.

You want to be selfish, you want to keep a piece of him for yourself, to remember him by, but you let him go. You have to, if you want to make it out alive.

“Come on,” he pleads. “We’ve been through so much…”

You swallow around the lump in your throat. “I know.”

There’s finality in your voice, and he hears it just as well as you do. You think he’ll fight more – Jungkook never backs down from a challenge – but to your surprise he goes incredibly still.

“Nothing I can do or say will make you stay, huh?”

You shut your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He goes cold then – like hell. Empty, freezing over, and he steps out of bed to grab some clothes in his luggage that he’s yet to unpack. You watch him, watch the last tears on his cheeks falling as he bends down. No new ones join them – he’s retracted somewhere inside of himself, probably in an attempt to protect himself. You’re not sure he’s aware of the coping mechanism, but you can recognize it.

He was in that same place when you met him again the year after his accident, before you started dating. Once, he told you that you were the one to rescue him from it.

Who will rescue him now?

You start crying again, and you force yourself to get out of bed. To grab some clothes as he’s zipping his luggage after getting dressed.

“Stop,” you tell him. “I already have plans to go stay with Bridget and Heather.”

He stops moving, and then slowly gets up. He glances at the door of the bedroom. Bam is looking through the small gap, and he gently pushes on the door to open it wider.

“What about the dog?” Jungkook asks, sounding so detached you can barely recognize him.

It breaks you even more. You’re selfish – you wish he’d fight more. You wish he’d convince you to stay, but now he looks like he doesn’t even care anymore.

You probably deserve it.

“You can keep him,” you say, as you struggle to put your clothes on, hands trembling so much it makes you lose your fine motricity. “When you-“ A sob breaks the sentence. “When you leave again I can take him in.”

Jungkook nods, and then he glances towards the television. The movie is still playing, yet it’s nearing the end now.

Everything comes to an end.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses loudly, and he moves to the bed, grabbing the remote so he can turn the TV off. He then looks at the bed. “You’re leaving with those?”

“Jungkook…”

“You’re fucking leaving with them?”

He’s motioning to Totoro and Appa, and you cry some more as you nod. “Okay. Yes. I’ll come back later for the rest.”

“Okay.”

There’s an immense silence then, as you finish putting your clothes on. As you go to the closet, where you’ve already packed a duffel bag with stuff for a week. Jungkook scoffs when he sees it, and it almost makes your legs give out under you.

“You weren’t going to give me a chance, were you?” he asks bitterly, reproachfully.

“My decision was made,” you answer with a small voice. “I just… it’s too hard.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

You know Jungkook often hurts others when he himself is in pain. It’s something he said he didn’t want to do anymore, a side of him he told you he hates. You’re not surprised to see it come to the surface right now – you don’t think he’s ever gotten his heart broken like this before.

So you’re not surprised when he adds, “We should have broken up when we fought on the phone. Because why was I so fucking stupid to think you still loved me?”

Your heart breaks. It’s been breaking, but now it’s different. Burning, throbbing pain takes over the beating organ, and you struggle to breathe. The air is boiling in your lungs, and it’s so fierce you feel it in every inch of your body.

“I do,” you tell him. “It’s not because I don’t love you…”

He laughs. He bursts out laughing, and it’s a little crazed, a little scary. “Right. Yeah. Tell that to yourself.”

In that instant, you remember when you’d told him you loved him for the first time. At his art exhibit, choked on emotions you thought you’d always know. You don’t know them anymore, but he’s wrong.

You’ll always love him.

“Kook…”

“Will you fucking stop calling me that?” he asks, and he finally meets your gaze again.

“Sorry…”

He sighs loudly, tongue poking at his cheek. “Are you leaving now?”

It’s weird – the way he says it reminds you of your mother when she kicked you out years ago. It reminds you of the early days with Jungkook and you don’t think you can move. You’re stuck in the spot where you’re standing, watching him as he watches you.

When his gaze breaks and he lets out, “Please”, you finally start moving.

First to the bed, to grab Appa and Totoro, and then towards the door.

You push the door open, and Bam wags his tail as you walk out. You’re crying again – you’re not sure you ever stopped – but the sight of the dog makes everything worse. Because it’s not only Jungkook you’re losing, it’s Bam too.

It’s your life. You’re losing everything that matters to you, in an attempt to save yourself. In an attempt to find something better for yourself, something that won’t ache for months at a time like being with Jungkook now does.

“Hey, Bamie,” you say, and you hold the plush toys away as he tries to bite into Appa’s paw. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You bend, and you let the dog lap at your cheek, as if he can dry your tears. When he stops to look at you curiously, head tilted to the side, you press a kiss to the top of his head. You can’t move for a time and, as if sensing it, Bam remains entirely still too.

He only moves when you stretch, and it’s to press his body against your legs, as if trying to stop you from leaving. Tears cascade down your face, and you tell him you’re sorry, too. You repeat that you’ll see him soon again, hoping that it’ll help, and then you’re walking around him. Walking towards the door, walking towards the crying world outside.

Jungkook follows behind, silent as ever, hands lost in the pockets of his sweatpants, eyes lost in the void. You put down your stuff by the door, put on a light coat and grab your keys. You store them in your coat pocket, and then head to the door, to put on your shoes.

Every step feels like lead, like death, and you just keep crying. It only stops when you meet Jungkook’s gaze, when you’re ready to leave.

Or as ready as you’ll ever be.

“So that’s it?” he asks.

“That’s it,” you agree, and you wish you didn’t. Wish those weren’t the words you said.

He nods once, looking like he’s burdened with a great fatigue. “Alright.”

You want to scream at him to say more, but he doesn’t. Only stays silent as he looks at you, doe eyes so big. His waterline is wet again, and he’s got red splotches all over his face. He’s fighting the tears this time around and you wish you’d give him a reprieve, wish you’d be able to leave but, once again, you’re rooted in your spot.

Maybe because you still have more to say.

“Thank you for…” You pause, take a deep, shaking breath in. “Thank you for the years. I had a lot of fun with you.”

“Please go.”

You nod once, and then you turn around. It occurs to you that your hands are full, and you look at the doorknob as if it’s foreign. Jungkook must have noticed, because he steps forward, his hand reaching for it.

He stills halfway there, with his arm right next to you. And then you hear him choke on a sob, and you drop what you’re holding to face him, to pull him into a hug.

You don’t know how long you cry, holding onto each other like this. Because the moment you’ve wrapped your arms around his waist, Jungkook wrapped his around your shoulders, and he hid his face in your hair.

You cry and cry, together. The last thing you’ll ever do together, you reckon. You wish it wasn’t the case, wish the ending was still at the end a very long road, but it’s come short tonight and it’s too late to stop now.

You break against him, holding him. He’s shaking in your arms, as much as you’re shaking in his. Both of you trembling leaves in the wake of your end. And then you fall to your demise, carried away by the wind.

You don’t know when you let go of him. Only come to your senses when you’re in bed, sometime between dusk and dawn, away from him.

You’re never going to hold him again.

Teaser | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

Pain. I'm crying again from rereading one last time before posting. Please don't hate me oop- let me know what you think of the fic! Did we like it, even though it hurts? All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate.

Taglist: (add yourself to the taglist here) (strike through means dumblr isn't letting me tag you)

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goddessofwisdom-7 · 5 months

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Sacrifice [part 2]

Pairing: Luke castellan x female!reader

Description: a prequel to Sacrifice pt. 1, you held up the sky for long and Luke could see the toll it was taking so he goes ahead luring Annabeth to take your place, after all he's just trying to take care of you.

A/N: when I wrote Sacrifice, I did it in fifteen minutes nto thinking much of it. But I like the concept of it ngl. In all fairness, angst is like my thing and writing angsty toxic Luke is my fav rn.

Sacrifice pt 1:

Luke's shoulders ached, his back felt almost crooked from the weight of the sky. He felt a twinge of sympathy for Annabeth but right now she was the lesser of his concerns.

The woman at the forefront of his mind being you.

You who swung from consciousness to unconsciousness for the last three days; the strength from your body sapped out and a constant pain ripping through you. Your wrists were wrapped up in bandages to support them and the large expanse of bruises on your shoulders were being iced.

The nectar and ambrosia he was taking to you felt like a meagre offering, a minimal solution.

This whole ploy was a sheer debacle. He could've lost you.

Everything was taking too much time. Anyway, it didn't matter now.

You were out of immediate danger, he could take care of you. Just like he always swore to. He'd show you how much he cared, that you still mattered and ha had it all under control and all the doubts he knew you were beginning to have weren't necessary.

Your hair had greyed significantly, more than his had; though that was to be expected with how much more time you had spent in Atlas' position.

He sidled up to your sleeping figure, sheltered away from the eyes of titans and soldiers– protected; and reached out to caress your face, over the course of these days, he had developed a small routine now.

First, he picked up the washcloth and basin that a son of Asclepius who was in charge of handling injuries had dutifully kept. He could tend to your wounds and the other demigods, but you were still under Luke's care. Always.

Cleaning up your face first, before gently wiping down your arms, mindful of the supporting bandages and then wiping your knees, down your shins and the arch of your feet.

It felt good, being able to do something for you. After which he'd try to rouse you in a partial wakefulness as he helped you sip the divine nectar, watching the magic liquid give you some strength.

For a little while, Luke had been worried. For all your amazing traits, he believed you to be more simple-minded; in your mind, you were the first that should be sacrificed because of your dedication and devotion towards your loved ones. Now, he never thought of your loyalty to be mindless like a dog's but he always believed that it would be his.

But then after the whole Golden Fleece interaction with Percy and company, you had gotten quiet, secretive almost. Like you were deliberating helping the son of Poseidon. And he had had a sinking feeling that Kronos might order him to get rid of you, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to do that.

"Are you hiding something from me?" He'd asked one evening, quiet and sudden.

Your gaze remained unwavered as you stepped closer to him.

"No."

"You having doubts?"

"About survival?" You laughed, "I've known about the extreme likelihood of dying for a very long time." A thrilling shiver ran down his spine as you grabbed his chin.

"And still Luke, I'm here, by your side. I'm not having any doubts."

And a few days later you went and held up the sky and now he wondered if it was some unrequired act of fielty.

He brushed your grey hair back, untangling a few knots and wished your face didn't look so disturbed and in agony in sleep as it did while you were awake.

"Luke?" You mumbled.

"Yes love."

"What– how am I here?" A sudden fit of discomfort and confusion setting upon you as you forced your eyes open and tried to sit up, still half asleep but nevertheless trying to stay alert– a default demigod setting, "who's– Atlas–"

"Shh," He whispered, attempting to be soothing. Take care of you. His job. "Annabeth's got it in control."

"Anna– no!" You shoot up, weak and disoriented, "not– Luke, Luke you promised– No!"

"Shh, calm down, please," He catches your shoulder and nudges you to lie back but you remain restless and oh gods he loves you and can't lie to you but you need to remain still or you'll get hurt more.

"You promised–"

Their medic is swift in appearing with an anaesthetic type medication and they put you out succinctly, without the chance of waking for a long while.

"I know you didn't want it to go like this, my love. But I will sacrifice hundreds to keep you safe."

His heart feels heavy and he kisses your brow and cheek.

If Annabeth, Thalia or Percy or anyone is the option opposite you, he'll kill them all. You, his devoted darling, his own nectar. The repercussions always seem so inconsequential when up against you, taking care of you.

His beloved.

************

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo x reader

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chiiyuuvv · 4 months

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[DAY 1] masterlist ᡣ𐭩 !

— " one casually sitting on the others lap, and the other freak outs " ; childhood besties to lovers ft. riize

♡list : @lecheugo , @imthisclosetokms , @rizzkisworld , @hyvelxve , @starryriize

"What are you going to get?"

"Me? I'm gonna get the hotdogs."

The doors swing open as the group of teenagers walk through, some of their arms wrapped around the other as they stand at the entrance of the small restaurant. Shotaro decided to invite you with his group of friends since yours were nowhere to be found, a small smile on his lips as he pats your head to get your attention.

"Hm?" You turn around from your short conversation with eunseok, watching as the smile on shotaros lips increases. "What do you want? I'll order for you." He glances up at you as he fishes his wallet from his pocket, waiting for your response. "Oh uh.." you look at the menu that was hanged proudly on the wall. "The cheese burger.. with bacon.. an-"

"A blue raspberry slushie?" Shotaro finishes your sentence, finally finding his wallet. "How did you know?!"

"We've known each other since forever!" He exclaims, a loud chuckle leaving his lips. "Plus you always order the same thing," he adds, "so of cource i know!"

"Yeah, yeah." You roll your eyes at his playfulness, waving your hand. "I'm gonna go use the bathroom." You excuse yourself from his group of friends, finding the restrooms at the back of the restaurant.

You finally return after a couple of minutes, wiping your now wet hands against the material of your jeans. The boys werent hard to find, the loud voices being able to hear from across the restaurant, sitting in a red booth with a circle of a table in the center, along with whatever snacks they might have ordered already.

"Hey! I got your drink!" Shotaro says as soon as your eyes meet, waving the frozen good in the air. "Thanks," you smile, ringing out your hands one final time for any extra wetness. "Scoot over," you push his shoulder.

"Oh right," he says, turning around to find that there wasnt any space. "I'll go get a chair-"

"No, its fine." You say, waving off the boys words. "I have a solution."

"Whats that?" The boy looks up at you with full curiously, his brain malfunctioning when you open his arms, sitting yourself comfortably on his lap. "You got something there," you turn around to wipe some crumbs off of the side of his mouth, completely unaware at how red the boy had gotten.

Turning back around to face the other boys, you didnt think much of it, stealing one of shotaros chips as you pop it in your mouth, your back resting against his chest. "What?" You say to the others, watching as anton stiffles a laugh, sungchan shooting you a teasing look.

"What are you.. dating?" He breaks the silence, the boys bursting out of laughter. "Hes so red!!" Sohee points out, wiping some of the tears that was forming around his eye.

"A-am not!" Shotaro tries to defend himself. "Hes even stuttering!!" Wonbin joins in.

"Ya, ya.." seunghan waves his hands, silencing the others who were laughing.

"Thank you seungha-"

"Leave the loverboy alone, let him be whipped in peace." The table erupts into laughter again, shotaros hand smacking seunghan shoulder as his blush increases. "Its not like that!" The boy sighs loudly, shooting you a look.

"What is it, loverboy?" You tease, a smile on your lips. He sighs again, "i hate you. I hate all of you."

#yuvie events!#yuvie valentine's!#riize #riize fanficton #riize fanfic #riize fics #riize fluff #riize fanfiction #riize drabbles #riize imagines #riize shotato x reader #shotaro riize #riize scenarios #riize shotaro #riize soft hours #osaki shotaro #shotaro

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lucid-loves · 5 months

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Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 2

Pairing: Ghost x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 3.1k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to friends to lovers trope, slow burn, clear attraction and sexual tension, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After Makarov gets away once again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you in each interaction.

Chapter Synopsis: After a few days of planning, it is time to head out to get new information on Makarov that would hopefully lead to his takedown. You have decided to take control with a plan that makes Ghost want to get to know you even more. Turns out, you’re quite good at the game he wants to play.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

The 141 have been treating you like a feral cat ever since they arrived. Every time they tried to get close to you more than necessary, you distanced yourself and threatened violence. Despite the conflict, you have attended every brief they wanted to have. From a distance of course. Kate had sent you files upon files of information from the identities of the men you were working with and mission reports. Soap, Gaz, Ghost, and Price had impressive records. Many successful missions, few failed. However, they were clearly stuck in a box.

The government’s military had a very particular way of doing things that are absolutely wrapped in red tape. They trained soldiers to think a certain way and do certain things. To you, it was like brainwashing. That was part of the reason why you didn’t fit in when you did try joining the military long ago.

The boys clearly needed a new perspective. The official ways of the military weren’t working. It would be insanity if they kept trying to do the same things over and over again.

The day before you were to all head out again, you decided to change their plans at the last minute. They scheduled a checkpoint back in civilization where they would be provided an armored car and instructions to drive it to a hangar. From there, you were to fly to Italy and capture one of Makarov’s weapons dealers for interrogation. Except, you decided that you weren’t going to do any of that. You couldn’t stand wild goose chases.

You had called a meeting, much to their surprise considering that you barely even spoke during their scheduled briefs. It didn’t take long for them to gather around the table, take a seat, and tune in to what you were about to say. Did you finally trust them? Decide to cooperate like a good soldier?

“We’re going off-grid.” You announced loud and clear, asserting your authority.

“We’re already off-grid.” Soap retorted, clearly confused by what you meant. You had to stop an insult from escaping your lips.

“No, you’re not. I’m talking about cutting off government and military contacts. No check-ins, no checkpoints, no assists. Everything from here on out is unreported, completely classified, and off-record. Laswell will be our only life-line and she is also going under the radar.” You explained with no hesitation in your voice.

At this, Price stood from his seat in defiance. “Are you crazy? We could be labeled as deserters!”

You had a solution for this. “No, you won’t. I know how much your reputations and jobs mean to you, even if I think it’s blind stupidity. Kate is going to submit fake reports and check-ins. VPNs are going to make it seem like we are where we are supposed to be.”

“Then what the hell do we do now? Where are we supposed to go now?” Gaz spoke up now, his tone much more gentle in comparison to the outrage they all must feel. They probably weren’t used to taking orders from someone from the outside of their little boy’s club.

“We’re still going to Italy, but we aren’t going the way that is expected. We aren’t securing the target either. We’re going to spy. Gather information from their own natural conversations and slip-ups. Take note of everything.” You elaborated, all of this information seeming quite obvious in your own head.

Price let another outburst slip. “We don’t have time to just wait around like that.”

You rolled your eyes and headed to the whiteboard that was scrounged up from your basement earlier in the week. On it, you wrote “patience” and circled it. “Makarov has always been one step ahead of you. It’s because he has patience. The patience to sit down and plan what he’s going to do next. Your actions have all just been reactionary. Besides that, he’s Jokering you.”

It took them a moment to let that settle in, trying to decipher what you meant. Eventually, one of the boys got it. For some reason, you were surprised that it was Ghost who understood first. “You mean he’s expecting us and wants us to show up. Like Joker and Batman.”

You nodded, but didn’t slow down your flow. In another life, you probably would’ve made captain with your natural leadership, even if it came from a place of desire for control. “Exactly. This new plan also eliminates the possibility of a mole leaking information.”

The boys looked at each other in panic at this one. Price was offended that you would accuse any of his men to be a mole. Here and back home. However, he bit his tongue and dug for more information. “A mole?”

“I don’t have much proof yet, but I have my suspicions. A lot of what makes up Makarov’s madness is patience. Some of it, though, is knowing sensitive information. Reading the mission reports, several points of interest implied that someone was leaking information to him. If we go with my plan, then we will see if my theory is true. If not, then no harm done.” You reasoned.

Soap’s curiosity got the better of him. He just had to ask. “Who do you think the mole is?”

You were blunt with your answer, not one to sugarcoat anything even if it hurt. “Shepherd.”

Price swore under his breath, your theory making sense to him now. All of the 141 have been suspicious of him ever since the incident in Mexico. It was startling to them that Makarov was transporting him as a prisoner in Siberia at one point as well. He may very well be the reason why they can’t catch Makarov. All the times he got away seemed to be under Shepherd’s watch. Why didn’t they see this before?

Finally, Price gave in. The reasoning was just too sound to completely ignore. “Fine. We’ll go with Hex’s plan. For the time being, Hex will call the shots.”

The next twenty-four hours were tense as everyone gathered their things and prepared to start their first mission now under the radar. You could tell that the squad didn’t like the fact that you were essentially their new leader for now. However, they wouldn’t dare defy their Captain’s orders. This kind of loyalty instilled by the military was one thing you were grateful for.

It was three in the morning and you were still up, printing things that would aid your journey in the office. The boys have already retired for the night, the time for departure being bright and early at five o’clock. They needed rest before what was to come. Who knew when they would have comfortable beds again.

You yawned and took a sip of your coffee, watching the printer slowly turn out what would become stickers. It was an old printer so it took ages just to print one thing. Agonizingly slow.

Suddenly, you felt a pair of eyes on you from the shadows. You have already started to become familiar with the feeling and who it was from. His gaze barely left you when you were in the same space together like you were a specimen to be observed. You decided to ignore him, refusing to entertain him in any way.

Eventually, he emerged and stood in front of your desk. The walls were lined with more books. Instead of classics, though, the shelves were lined with more modern pieces along with comics. “I didn’t peg you as a comic book fan.”

“I have a lot of time on my hands. I read everything.” You curtly responded, watching him from the corner of your eye. He was still wearing that skull balaclava, but he was dressed in pajamas. Long, flannel pajama pants, a tight black t-shirt that showed off his muscles and tattoos. You could just about trace every definition of his strength with your eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He tried continuing the conversation. He was stubborn, you gathered. He lived by his words, trying to get to know you when you clearly didn’t want to be known. Yet, he now knew that you were a reader of just about anything. Classics, modern, comics, cookbooks. It didn’t matter to you. A book was a book. Books were meant to be read.

“I don’t sleep.” You threw him a bone, hoping that he would be satisfied with this miniscule, insignificant piece of information.

Ghost didn’t say anything for a while. He just watched you watching the printer. The way the lamp illuminated your features, the way your own set of pajamas hugged your curves, and the way you lazily watched the paper emerging from the machine had his stomach do flips. He was impressed with how you handled the meeting today. Well, not just impressed. Attracted. The way you carried yourself, presented ideas without remorse, and connected the dots was a sign of intelligence. Even natural leadership. For him, it was incredibly attractive which at the same time frustrated him.

Simon wanted to get to know you, but at the same time, he didn’t. You were still frustrating to deal with. He didn’t like how you talked back and stubbornly refused to get closer to them. Yet, there was something about you that he couldn’t ignore. Not just looks and intelligence, but a sense of loneliness. He could feel it in the walls of your home and the way you bit back at attempts of compassion. You didn’t like people. At the same time, you confided with Kate. That was enough of a sign that you did need human interaction. Wanted it.

He sat in a lounge chair on the opposite end of the room, still wanting to push your boundaries. “Got any recommendations?”

You didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, I recommend you get the fuck out of my office.”

He scowled and suppressed his urge to storm out. You were a real piece of work. “I meant book recommendations.”

The paper was finally done printing which you swiped up eagerly. Taking a pair of scissors, you began to cut out your images. “None that you would like.”

“Try me, Hex.” He pressed.

You gave a long, exasperated sigh. This was ridiculous to you. However, you thought about it for a moment. Perhaps having him read a book would get him to shut up. Especially since you will have a long drive together in a few hours. The last thing you wanted was roadtrip talk. Finally, you paused your work to find a book for him off your shelf. Once you spotted one of your favorites, you slid it out and tossed it to him.

He caught it with ease, processing then to examine the cover followed by the synopsis on the back. He looked up, questioning your recommendation. "This is what you like to read?"

"I don't like the bare surface. I like the deeper meanings.” You confessed, a little annoyed that he seemed to be bashing your recommendation despite asking for it.

“You’re an analyst.” He pointed out, a smirk concealed under his mask as he learned more snippets about you. Your displeasure at his comment was obvious as you frowned and crossed your arms across your chest.

You walked over and attempted to snatch the book out of his hand. However, he stood up and held the book above your head out of your reach, looking down at you for a reaction. Instead of jumping in attempts to grab it, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled it down to your level. Your blood was hot with anger. “What fucking game are you playing at?! You think this is fucking funny?”

“It’s amusing, I’ll admit. I’m just getting to know you, though.” He admitted, his heart thumping hard against his chest from the thrill of getting your attention, even if it’s like this.

“I’m not your fucking recruit or your fucking toy, understand? If anything, I am your enemy that you’re forced to work with this one time.” You seethed, eyes blazing. You wanted to view him as an enemy to ensure that the distance between you two was even further. If he hated your guts, it would make things much easier.

Instead of agreeing, he just shook his head. You frustrated him, sure, but he couldn’t hate you. “Keep your friends close but your enemies closer, Hex.”

You gave it some thought for a moment before letting go of his shirt and turning back to your little arts and crafts project. At first, Ghost didn’t know what to think of your response. He expected to hear some fighting words back or maybe an attempted punch. Not surrender like this. Your next words caught him even more off guard. “Read the book and let me know what you think. Don’t dog-ear it either. I can’t stand that. There are bookmarks in the coffee table drawer out in the living room if you need one.”

Your tone was calm and collected. Calculated. Oh, but you planned to knock the wind right out of his sails soon enough. You were just waiting for the right timing.

Ghost gathered himself, trying to figure out what was going on in that brain of yours. It made him uneasy, yet thrilled. It was like he was on a rollercoaster blind. For now, he played along. “Fine. Just don’t complain if I criticize your selection when I report it back.”

As he made his way out of your office, you shrugged and gave a wicked smirk. Even if it was malicious, it made his breath hitch. It made him want to see what other smiles you had. Joyous, silly, sympathetic, all of it.

Just before he left completely, you gave a final retort. “You got a deal, Simon.”

He halted in his tracks, feeling a shiver run down his spine. The electricity traveled through his nerves as you said his real name in that mocking tone of yours. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. You knew his name, signifying that you were already ahead in this little game he initiated. A step ahead. It enraged him that would use his name so bluntly, mockingly, and disrespectfully.

To hear his name on your lips, though, at the same time, made his heart quiver. On the way out, he slammed the door, your muffled laughs of victory behind it making blood rush to his ears. Another beautiful sound that he both admired and hated.

At five o’clock sharp, you were closing the door to your cabin and whispering a temporary goodbye to it. The outside of the cabin was run down, the porch nearly falling apart from rot. On the outside, it looked abandoned. The perfect cover hiding the place you called home for the past couple of years. You were going to miss it.

“Alright, men, time to hike.” Price ushered forwards, leading the strange pack toward a vehicle you kept camouflaged near a dirt road. Within an hour or so, everyone should stumble upon a dirt road leading to a nature park, one that hasn’t received visitors in years. From there, you could lead the way and take the car to start the road trip to Italy from Austria.

For now, you walked rear, right behind Ghost that also preferred to be in the back of the pack. After some time, Soap, Gaz, and Price were comfortable enough to engage in casual conversation to pass the time. Simon was listening, chiming in every now and then. His senses were mainly focused on you though. He wondered what you were thinking about. Were you listening to the conversation? Answering the questions in your own head?

A little bit perhaps. Your own senses were mostly trained on the environment. Small animals scurrying in far off shrubbery, birds flapping their wings to get to different branches, the feeling of leaves crunching beneath your boots. It kept your head quiet as you walked.

Finally, a dirt road was revealed beyond some trees, a sign that it was time for you to lead the way. You snapped out of your meditation and headed up to the front. Looking both ways down the road before stepping out, you led the way to the vehicle you only used occasionally. It didn’t take long for you to track down your car. “Gaz, Price, help me take the camo off. Soap, keep an eye out for any hikers.”

They obeyed like obedient dogs of the military, following your orders as instructed. Ghost stood silently, watching the branches and leaves reveal just what kind of car you planned on packing them all in. Much to his amusement and horror, it was a minivan. The kind a football mom would drive her kids’ team around. “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m smart. This will receive a lot less attention compared to an official military armored vehicle. Here, keep yourself occupied and put these on the back windshield.

From your pack, you fished out the craft you were working on last night. Hand-made stickers of a stick figure family along with a few cliche, family-friendly bumper stickers. “PTA Mom,” “Go Little Sharks!” and “Pomeranian Family” were just some of the cringey bumper stickers that you handed to Simon. He didn’t know if you were a genius or crazy. Maybe both.

Once the camo was clear, stickers on the minivan were secure, and the coast was clear, the men filed into the car like a little league team. They even argued about who was going to the poor victim in the very back seat. Of course, being the youngest, Gaz pulled the short straw on that one. “God damn! My legs are up to my fuckin’ chest!”

“You can switch at pit stops.” You reasoned, taking the driver’s seat naturally. Much to your dismay, Ghost decided that he was going to sit up front with you. Your passenger.

You knew he did this on purpose. “Do you really have to sit up here with me?”

“Of course I do. A happy family always has a mom and dad at the front.” He teased nonchalantly. You knew he was smiling cockily under that mask. You hoped that the rest of the 141 didn’t hear his inappropriate comment. The last thing you needed was for the rest of the team to start testing your patience too with teasing.

You started the car and slowly pulled onto the road. “You’re insufferable.”

“Thank you.” Simon simply accepted, taking it as a compliment. Even if you weren’t thinking about him in a positive light, you were still thinking about him. That alone was enough to make him feel like this was his own victory.

You turned on the radio, hoping that music would chase the thought of Simon out of your head.

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yawnderu · 6 months

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She Wants Me Dead — Miguel O'Hara x Reader | Part III

1 2 3

"You have tits now." The sentence is so blunt it almost makes Miguel laugh for the first time ever since the incident.

"Pecs." Is all he can reply, barely even finding the energy to keep his eyes open. He has been working himself to the bone ever since he broke the canon and erased an entire dimension, looking for an explanation, a solution, anything.

"Mhm." Everything felt so cold ever since. 5 months in and you couldn't handle the pressure of dealing with Miguel, who was barely home and didn't even have the energy to do anything with you, spending all day in his office, planning with the AI you came to love, Lyla. You left him at his lowest, appearing only a year after the incident, once Miguel had it together, in a way. The Miguel you're looking at isn't the Miguel you fell in love with.

"I have nothing for you, so you might as well shock off." He dismisses you without even sparing a glance at you, his red eyes focused on the projection of his adoptive daughter— the life he wished he could have and got to experience for a short while before reality came crashing down in him, destroying any piece of what the old Miguel was like. Friendly, nice. He was now full of snark, sarcasm, and a moodiness that seemed to spread to everyone around him, infecting them like a virus.

"I just wanted to see you. See if I got lucky enough to be in your bed again." There's a playful pout on your lips, doing nothing to ease the tension. He wasn't expecting to see you ever since you dumped him, and he could feel his muscles tensing at your mere presence.

"Not happening. Not after what you did." He's stern, cold. His red eyes set on you for a second before returning to his monitor, both wounds still fresh in his soul.

"You're still mad about that? I said sorry." The charming smile you shoot his way is enough to make his blood boil. It's something he has seen far too many times during your toxic relationship, something that previously made him fold and submit to you, despite knowing you're both pure poison to each other.

"Sorry." He repeats with a scoff, hands on his hips as he finally looks down at you. He's much... bigger, in every way. The lanky guy you knew is now towering at 6'9, his body nothing short of pure muscle that could easily crush you like a bug.

"If you want back in, you're gonna have to try much harder. You can't just keep doing stuff like that, not anymore." He's a lot more mature now, even if only a year has passed. You know he suffers from great trauma— hell, you were there to see that for yourself, until you ran away.

"Fine. I'll do anything, Miggy." You reply with a sigh, hands gently tracing his waist before wrapping around it, bringing him in for the so dreaded hug. In reality, you don't feel much about it, but for him... it's like another punch to the gut. He has way too much on his plate, the last thing he needs is his ex-girlfriend, a villain, pretending to be sweet just to get forgiveness.

"Just... be there for me and don't piss me off." He says after hesitantly pushing your body away, being careful enough to not use a lot of force.

Four months in and you've broken that promise more times than he can count, yet the obsession and love cloud his judgement. You're the only thing he can cling on besides his obsession with the canon, and so when he needs a break... he knows you'll be there. Doesn't matter if he wants to talk, cuddle in silence, or fuck. You're always available, ready for anything he has in mind.

"Así, mi amor." He guided your hips up and down his cock, arms wrapped around you like a lifeline as he used your cunt to jerk himself off.

"Too much—" He shushes you with a kiss, bringing your body closer to his until he can thrust into you faster, your whiny moans doing nothing but become fuel to his already exhausted body. His kisses are sloppy, desperate, tongues wrapping around each other in a mess of saliva.

''Wanna prove how much you're sorry? For all the broken promises?'' You regret nodding your head, because now your body is now pinned down on a mating press as he fucks his stupidly big cock into you, pulling out only to slam himself back in, the lewd sounds of your squelching cunt and mixed moaning bouncing off the walls of his room in a melody that you both know too well.

''Want it inside?'' He already knows the answer, but he always asks just to confirm. His thumb rubs on your clit while he holds your thighs up with both hands, looking at the way his cock disappears into your cunt, barely managing to take him all the way. The new position allows him to see more of you in a vulnerable light, and he truly appreciates just how much power he holds over you in this moment, your much smaller body writhing underneath him as your second orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, unable to focus on anything going on around you except just how good his cock feels. You manage to give him a desperate nod, too overwhelmed to even speak, only whiny moans being able to push past your lips.

''Good girl.'' He praises in a whisper, burying himself all the way inside as he climaxes, pearly white and thick cum filling your insides, painting them a pretty color in what he hopes will finally be the time he gets you pregnant. Hopes, because he knows you're on birth control, and he knows he'll get made fun of if he ever suggests starting a family with you.

He slowly pulls out of you, tired body collapsing right next to you, holding you in his arms like you're made of glass, plump lips planting gentle kisses on your forehead, a total contrast to the man fucking you earlier.

''I love you.'' He confesses softly, the weight of the three words crushing him down every single time they come out of his lips no matter how many times he says them. Despite the lack of energy, you tilt your head, a teasing smile on your lips as you look up at him. He know that look too well, rolling his eyes and groaning in annoyance. You're definitely going to make him grow gray hairs before he even reaches 40.

#miguel smut #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x fem!reader #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel ohara smut #atsv x reader #atsv smut

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secondratefiction · 6 months

Text

Keep You Safe - Commander Cody x Medic!Reader

Life Day Fic Exchange 2023 @cloneficgiftexchange

Written for @loving-the-cambridges

“Alright… unfortunately it does look like it’s broken…” You sighed, setting the trooper’s arm back down gently, “I’ll brace it and give you something for the pain and swelling until we get you back to the ship. 1 to 10, how bad is it hurting?”

“It’s feeling much better now that you’re taking care of me, mesh’la.” The trooper smiled up at you loopily and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“Careful Shiny…” The voice behind you made you smirk and you turned to smile at Boil as he stared the trooper you were working on down.

“He’s fine.” You said, motioning the older trooper to come help hold the other’s arm while you splinted and wrapped it up, “It’s probably the shock and adrenaline talking anyway.”

“Even so…” Boil rolled his eyes but was still as gentle as possible holding his brother’s limb while you worked, looking pointedly back at him, “You show the medics more respect. Especially the nat-borns.”

“Careful Boil,” You laughed softly as you finished up the wrapping, helping the trooper put his arm in a sling before giving him an injection, “You’re starting to sound like your commander.”

You could see Boil’s lip twitch as he tried to maintain a professionally neutral expression, “Thank you ma’am.”

Declaring the newer trooper done for the time being, you quickly shooed him off with instructions to find one of the transports back to the starcruiser, once he was out of your tent set up, you turned back to Boil expectantly, “Alright, so what can I do for you?”

“The Commander is back ma’am, he asked for you.”

“Maker karking damn it…” You spun around quickly to grab your bag, “Maybe lead with that next time.”

You had literally watched the man bust his knuckles open, dislocate a wrist, and just keep throwing punches. If Cody was requesting a medic there was no way this was going to go well.

-*-*-*-

Your relationship with Cody was complex to say the least. Honestly, he’d barely paid you any mind in the very beginning… another nat-born medic that had been brought in because there was too much work for the clone medics to keep up with. But after a few weeks of you seeming to always be there every time he turned around, the Marshal Commander couldn’t help but notice the way you treated his brothers. Like actual people and that they were deserving of your real effort, care, and attention.

And there was also the fact that you had to be the single most persistent nat-born he’d ever had to work with… Usually, Cody avoided the medics when and wherever he could, leaving the time and supplies open for other troopers he considered more in need than himself.

You however were stubbornly opposed to his inexplicable need to ‘just walk it off’, going so far as to literally chase him down once when Waxer had ‘accidentally’ mentioned to you that he’d taken a rather hard kick to the ribs during the previous skirmish.

Granted, his ribs had been bruised, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.

You weren’t hearing any of it though, and Cody had had to sit there petulantly while you’d tended to him.

That had been where the ice had started to crack, and eventually after much persistence and pursuit on your part, Cody had started coming to you, and exclusively you, whenever he was more than just a little bumped and bruised. And, you at least liked to think that, a sort of friendship had sparked up between the two of you….

What little free time he had, he was more than content to spend with you if the situation allowed, you’d sat in on more than a few meal time meetings with him, and you were always his first consult when it came to the best solutions for setting up the field medical stations.

The only other person you’d seen him be that casual and informal with was the General in their down time, so you’d like to think that meant you were in some kind of favor.

Which is what leads you here now, busting into the command tent with a barely contained panic, “I’m here! What happened?”

Cody was leaning against the large table in the middle with different maps and other planning materials strewn across it. One arm was hanging limply at his side, the other one holding it close against him to seemingly keep it from moving or getting jostled around.

“I can’t-” Cody grunted, trying to roll his shoulder again, “I can’t get it back in…”

“All right, stop - Stop moving it,” You shook your head crossing to him and quickly putting your hand on the uninjured arm, “Let me look.”

You started gently removing his armor to get a better look at the damage underneath. The hiss through your teeth was involuntary as soon as you got the spaulding off, just from the jut of his shoulder you could tell the joint was fully dislocated.

“Ok… good news is we can fix it…” You said looking up at him.

“The bad news is, it’s gonna hurt like hell.” He finished and you nodded sheepishly, “Alright… Let’s get it over with…”

The process wasn’t complicated, making Cody lay back across the table with his shoulder at the edge and hold your bag while you pushed the arm back out straight to get the bone to drop back into the joint. The loud crack made you wince, and completely justified the long, low string of curses Cody let out as he reflexively dropped your bag.

“Easy… Easy,” You helped him set up, making sure he moved somewhat gingerly until you could get a look at the rest of him, “Just relax a minute.”

“I’m alright,” Cody shook his head, trying to wave you off as he got back on his feet, “I need to get back out there.”

“Cody!” You snapped, grabbing him by the elbow of his good arm.

Whatever scolding you were about to give the commander was cut off by a loud explosion that rocked the ground beneath your feet. Cody moved quickly to grab you by the forearm, half dragging you out of the tent to see what was going on.

The second explosion went off far too close to the right of you and Cody barely had time to pull you into him before the two of you were sent flying through a cloud of dust and debris.

You registered something sharp hitting you in the back before everything faded away…

-*-*-*-

“C’mon cyare, you have to wake up for me…”

You groan lowly, trying to turn your head away from the incessant tapping on your cheek, blinking slowly as things around you came back into focus. The first thing to register was the ringing in your ears, followed quickly by the pain in your head and back.

“There you go kar’ta, easy.” Cody helped you sit up as gently as he could, shifting around behind you so you could sit propped up against him, “I tried to cover you, but you still took a hard hit to the head. Don’t try to move too fast just yet.”

You gave a weak laugh and leaned your head back against his shoulder, “Well, it’s nice to know you’ve been paying attention, even if you don’t actually listen to anything I tell you.”

You could feel the chuckle vibrate through his chest even if the trooper behind you was trying to hide it, “I always listen to you, mesh’la.”

To say you were a little stunned by his free use of endearments would be an understatement; other troopers, especially the new and shiny ones, through them around like water - a sweet, if a little awkward attempt to flirt with one of the first if not only females they’d had close contact with in their lives - but not Cody. He almost exclusively addressed you as ‘ma’am’ or your surname.

Either way it was still your turn to chuckle, turning your head to look up at him over your shoulder, “Yeah? You got a funny way of showing it, Kote.”

Another odd occurrence: Cody smiled, again laughing under his breath, as he looked away from you. If you didn’t know any better, and there was more light wherever the two of you were temporarily hidden, you would have sworn he was blushing.

“Just because I don’t always have the luxury of following your orders, doesn’t mean I’m not paying attention.”

Another explosion and the sound of blaster fire cut through whatever clandestine moment the two of you were having, Cody’s head immediately snapping back to the small cave entrance you assumed you’d fallen through, “We need to move.”

You nodded, pushing yourself back up to your feet, still a little unsteady, but there was no spinning feeling or nausea, so you could power through it.

“You stay right beside me, cyar’ika,” Cody said drawing his own blaster as he chanced peeking out of the cave, “Right on my hip, I’ll get you back behind the line.”

You nodded, as he slipped his helmet back on, “Right behind you Commander.”

Reaching back for your hand, Cody pulled you up beside him as close as he could get you, and just as you thought he was about to step out into the fray he stopped and turned back to you. Squeezing your hand, you could just tell Cody was staring down at you intently behind his helmet

“Stay with me, ner kar’ta,” Your eyes fell shut on their own accord as Cody leaned in to press the forehead of his helmet against yours, “I will keep you safe.”

In that moment, you had never believed anything more.

#star wars #clone wars #commander cody #commander cody x reader #commander cody x medic!reader #reader insert #LDE23 #clone fic gift exchange

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bat-writer · 1 year

Note

Bruce doting on a pregnant batmom 🥰 (I might have sent this twice sorry but if so I still hope you have a wonderful day/evening/night ❤️)

A/N: Yes. THATS all just Y E S - I may have gone overboard LMAO

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿ ‿‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Probably has a hunch way before you. This is Batman/Bruce Wayne. He know your cycle, signs and symptoms and all!

One day he came into your bedroom with some breakfast in bed and a small plastic wrapping

“What is it?” You asked

“A test. It’s been a week since your period should have been here. don’t be nervous or afraid we’ll talk it over with the results” he didn’t want it to sound like a business transaction but he wanted it to be a serious conversation

If it was negative or positive he’d be there with open arms and full support. Whatever your choice may be.

You step out of the bathroom with no emotion on your face and walk over to him. You place a kiss to his lips and whisper

“We’re having a baby” with a grin. His large arms coming around your frame to embrace you in a strong but gentle hug. Was it planned? No. Was this the best news he could hear all day? Absolutely! The woman he loves carrying his child is just beautiful to him.

Goes downstairs to tell Alfred about the news and has him set up a doctors appointment as soon as possible to get everything in order

During the first trimester you thought he might secretly be a caretaker. From morning sickness, to fatigue, to even your aches and pains he found some kind of solution for it all. He started to move things around the manor to make space and to start planning a nursery.

He would have a tape measure to measure your stomach each week to see the growth

"Honey, I won't be showing until I'm at least 3 1/2 weeks" you giggle

"I'm telling you the bump in right there! You just cant see it because your breasts are swelling" he tried to defend, when in fact they have not grown yet

During your second trimester he tried to crack down on crime as much as physically possible for your new addition

Speaking of new additions, he had to inform the rest of his family about who would be the newest Wayne. First up with Jason and Dick.

“Congrats you two!” Was Dicks response and of course Jason says

“…you still do it at your age-“ dick hit him in the ribs to not ruin the moment.

Either way, they were both happy for you and let you both know if anything is needed. They were there to lend a hand. The only other person left now was to tell Damien. Luckily Damien had a liking to you. However, when he had first gotten to the manor, he had his clashes with a dick so he doesn’t know how exactly he’d react to a new baby.

He also would secretly ask them to right down any kinds of foods or combos you liked so he could always have them handy

“As long as it stays out of my space It wouldn’t really matter. And as long as Y/N is okay with it…” it was his own unique way of saying as long as you were happy, he was happy

Damien also made it habit to be around the same area as you when Bruce was out and Alfred was busy. You even asked him once if he wanted to feel the developing bump. He did and for a spilt second you could tell he was a bit flustered. After he had his fill he’d move and tell you some fact about your state in the pregnancy

Also his way of showing he cared

Bruce’s favorite thing was to watch you sleep in the morning and watch as you’re bummed rose and fell from every breath that you took. He also really love to watch you walk away because you’re starting to get a slight waddle from the new center of gravity on your body it was adorable.

He also loves when you have his shirt on and the slight bump that stretches the fabric so slightly

Hes on the verge of banning you from the Batcave and watching the computer. It gets pretty chilly down there. He doesn’t want you or the baby getting cold. Even though you told me you were fine and you have three blankets on you but because he loves you so much he loves his stay there.

Speaking of, missions is the only time he’s constantly in communication with you to make sure that you are right which also means Alfred is constantly being called to check in on you. But he did love coming home and taking a nice warm shower with you and feeling your bump

He gets a new glimmer in his eyes when the baby starts to kick and move more. There was one time the baby had a big stretch. It was a little scary but also fascinating and slightly painful 😭

He’ll give you the entire bed just so you could be comfortable!

Lots of massages and kisses. Anything he can relive for you! He’s also restricted you!

No bag carrying, no going up the stairs (had tried to instal one of those chairs to take you up and down), no bending down to get something, no kitchen knives, etc.

He wanted you to just be pregnant💀but you just could not love that way! So he lets you help with very SMALL things

He has also gone overboard on baby clothes, accessories, and just anything baby!

Has 2 cribs one in the nursery and one in your bedroom.

He organized your baby shower and just made it soft, elegant and beautiful. Gender is left as a surprise since he’d want to keep any media as far from you as possible

Sometimes feels guilt when he sees your struggling with pains he can’t really take away. Like when you experienced a Braxton hick he was reminded of what you would soon go through when it was the baby’s due date but he’s also reminded that he will be father once again tk a new baby.

This time he’ll be there from the very start.

Oh he’s also booked you the best suit in the hospital with only the best doctor and midwife. He knows sometimes hospitals can be inconsiderate of their patients so he wants only the best in securing your safety and the baby’s

He helps to pack your bag for when you go into labor. While you go through it all you hold up the tiny clothing that will soon be filled by a tiny version of you or him! At one point you do get a bit emotional and overwhelmed

It was a lot

You’re going to be a mother, you’re gonna push a baby out, there was A LOT more than just having a cute baby. Feedings, doctors, loosing sleep, all of that so you cousins help but cry. Bruce put everything down and came over to you and inlet in front of you

“Hey, hey, it’s okay…..I can’t lie to you and say it’ll be easy as pie. But I can promise you I will be there for you both always. Anytime you need help, a break or just need me there. I’m always here for you both” he said placing a kiss to your bump and one to your ring finger where your ring sits

He wipes your tears away and kisses your head. You finish packing the bag and set it aside. You snuggle into Bruce’s side and lay in comfortable silence

In this bed Bruce was holding the love of his life and the product of their love that grows inside of her

-kitty🐈‍⬛

- part 2???👀

#bruce wayne #batman #bruce wayne x reader #Batman x pregnant reader #dc comics #batman fanfiction #batman x fem!reader

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transformation4life · 1 year

Text

Daddy Growth

"Become a real Daddy in minutes with Daddy Growth! Buy NOW!"

Those were the words that brought Dean to his local supermarket. Dean had been trying to bulk up for ages, but just couldn't no matter how hard he tried. The 22 year old was fresh out of college taking freelancing work in art and making it by but just barely. Dean was desperate for any quick solution to his muscle building problem and this product promised fast results he couldn't have driven faster to the supermarket than he already did.

"Is that all?" The cashier said to Dean as he put the bottle on the conveyor belt"

"Yea- WOAH!" Dean was shocked to see that the cashier was JACKED.

"Notice the guns? Pretty weird for someone like me to be working here yeah?" The cashier spoke with his deep voice

"Y-Yea.. a little... And how come they let you wear no shirt!" Dean was getting a little bit flustered as his attraction to guys was starting to show.

"Oh believe me, after this stuff came out dress codes got REAL lenient," He points at the bottle of Daddy Growth

"Wow... I didn't even really notice..." Dean twiddled with his thumbs.

"Don't worry about it, bud. Say... random question but are you a parent?"

"W-Wha? No... I'm only 22!" Dean was shocked to get asked that by a random person let alone a buff one.

"I see... yea good luck with that. Here's your bottle. Have a great day!" The man said with a wink giving Dean shivers.

Dean arrived home shortly after with the bottle in hand a little shaken by the whole experience, but was still determined this bottle will be the solution to all his problems. Dean carefully inspected the bottle instructions: Step 1: Open Bottle

Step 2: Drink bottle all at once

Step 3: Enjoy The Muscle!

Warning:sideeffectsmayincluderapidagingrealitychangingsuddenlybecomingaparentofabodybuildingsonlocationchangeandrealitychange

"Seems simple enough. I can't understand the warning though... Oh well!" Dean popped the bottle open and drank the whole thing in one chug.

"Damn... that was actually pretty refreshing... so now what..." Dean pranced around the room expecting something to happen but a couple minutes pass and nothing did.

"Is this a scam? Did i just spend 20 dollars on a drink? Hell why do I always fall for these kind of thi-" A jolt hit Dean as he clenched his head in pain.

Dean's body began to sweat at a rapid rate as his body began to grow. First to grow was his chest as they ballooned up into two massive clashing meat mounds with sweat adorning their surface. Next to change was Dean's stomach as a sexy set of abs popped in with the sweat making them glisten. Soon after Dean's arms became behemoths in size both having large biceps and triceps and... veins with an accompanying back widening and shoulders prop up! That marked the end of Dean's button up as a loud *rip* led the shirt to fall to the floor. As the shirt fell it was beginning to change. The buttons fell off as the sleeves rescinded and the shirts blue became a white with a black rim until it was the perfect bodybuilder tank top. Letter by letter the words "Better Bodies Gym Issues" appeared with the change finished right as it reached Dean's feet.

The top of Dean's body had their fun so it was the lower half was ready to grow with the thighs as thick as chickens and godlike status were already forming on his legs. Dean's feet growing by a couple inches whole too good thing he wasn't wearing any shoes. Unlike his shirt dean's bottoms held on pretty tightly before becoming elastic and breathable shorts as a direct cut sliced his pants right above his now thick knees as the rough material became more free. The leftover material wrapped around his feet becoming a nice pair of blue and black shoes with the laces tied tightly. Everything about Dean had changed besides his head, but not for long.

The main change began as Dean's body began to age. Wrinkles forming in the face and general gruffness that definitely didn't suit the 22 year old as he became someone in their late 40's as derek gained some stubble and his hair flattened and became slicked to the side with some gray hairs here and there as well. Dean couldn't speak through the whole ordeal as the pain in his body was too much, but it was finally over... right? WRONG

Dean's room morphed into a busy gym in a flash as the pain subsided little by little. Dean was able to snap back to reality as he now realized he wasn't in his room anymore and he was sweating like a bullet... on a workout bench? Dean couldn't even speak as a gold necklace with a cross wrapped itself around Dean's thick neck signifying the end of the changes.

"W-What... happened... to..." Dean couldn't process what just happened. How did he get at the gym and why did he feel sweaty.

Just then he felt something move. It was his new pecs... bouncing.

Dean looked down to see his new BIG and MEATY body in complete dumbfoundery. The drink actually worked. He became a "daddy"! Dean immediately stood up and flexed to the nearby mirror.

Dean looked great and he KNEW it. He did every bodybuilder thing under the book. Flexing, pec bouncing, and touching his muscles. the works and Dean loved every second of it. He felt like a new man!

The fun had to end though when someone walked up to Dean with a look that definitely wasn't friendly.

"Dean. What are you doing here?" It was a sterner older man not dissimilar to one Dean met at the store.

Dean wasn't sure what to say and just looked at the guy and spoke nothing.

"That's all you got to say to me? Your SON has been looking for you!" Wait... Son? Dean didn't have a son, let alone sex! How did he-

"Not to be rude sir, but I don't have a son I just drank this potion and-"

"Don't sir me, young man! I am your TRAINER. Now take off your tank top that shit is too sweaty to show your son!"

Dean not wanting to be rude to his "Trainer" reluctantly removed the tank top in order to satisfy him.

"Now put this on!" The trainer holding a tank with the word Evogen surrounded by stars.

Dean put it on and when he put it on he felt... comfortable in it. Almost like he's been wearing it for the past ten years. Like he...

Suddenly a whole slew of memories came flooding into Dean. Firstly being the 20+ years of life now under his belt, his years bodybuilding, and of course his son. Daniel. Dean always loved how the rascal took after him ever since he was young.

"Wait... no I don't-" Dean fought against the memories but when he saw the spitting image of his son in his mind dancing just like how Dean remembered he would, he felt at ease he somehow helped brought someone into this world.

Xander was a lot like his father. A bodybuilder and knew when to have fun. Dean was proud of him more than any father could ask for.

"Feel better now?" The trainer he now remembered as his longtime friend Ron.

"I'd say... yeah," Dean giving his pecs a firm lift.

And right on cue came Dean's just as big son.

"Hey pops," Xander was sweating from presumably a workout.

"Son! Good to see you! How's... Maria?" Dean randomly blurted out the name, but somehow knew it was related to his son.

"Oh, she's doing great! I'm so glad you were so accepting me being straight dad, you know how you can be sometimes?

"Know how I can be sometimes? What do you mean oh son of mine?" Dean said in a cocky manner before getting into a dance.

"That's what I mean dad! Anyways... ready to workout?" Dean almost already forgot he was supposed to be working out with his son.

Wait... what just happened? How did this all happen? Dean didn't realize that none of this was normal. First he become buff and older and not to mention has a child??? That's not normal in the slightest. Even with the new memories he still he had his old ones, the ones where he was skinny and scrawny and lived in a shoddy apartment, but he also had the memories of his kid and living in a big house. The mix of memories was getting to his head, and yet when he saw his new life and now body... he was fine with this. All this. He's never been a parent, but it won't hurt to try! And this BIG body is a huge bonus Dean can't complain at all. Now the real question is who did he fu-

"Dad? You good? We should head to the machines!" Xander looking at his father with confusion

"Oh! Sorry my boy, just lost in thought. Let's get to work!" Derek gave a confident flex to his son.

"Well I'll see you two later. Have fun!" Ron promptly left to help out other bodybuilders.

This new life was gonna be a bit hard for Dean to adjust to and Dean knew that and his old life was over but he was ready to start anew in exchange for this sexy body.

And so the new Dean waddled his way to the workout machines with his new son and looked as hot as hell doing it. He was a real Daddy now!

#male tf #muscle tf #mental change #mind change #reality change #bodybuilder tf #male transformation

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srbachchan · 25 days

Text

DAY 5928

Jalsa, Mumbai May 11/12, 2024 Sat/Sun 1:16 AM

🪔 ,

May 12 .. birthday greetings to Ef Deepa Krishna .. Ef Iris Sharara .. and Ef Svetlana Beregovaya from Russia 🇷🇺 .. 🙏🏻🚩❤️

... when you decide to be lazy .. not do anything .. go against any daily confirmed schedules .. to do and be by the self ..

that is the day the 'not do anything' shall begin to drive the most in reverse .. circumstances shall build your being to 'BE' .. to be the most ..

the principles of life - whoever guides them - or whoever designs them, shall never follow in its entirety, to what you desire or want ..

for .. if everything is conducting itself to your desires and wants , then your place here is an error ..

and these errors shall never be resolved to the fullest and desired results ..

we are brought here for this purpose .. to resolve .. and we discover that there is no solution for the resolve .. and we suffer and endeavour and lament and bring blame to 'karma' and fate .. because that is the finality of the solution ..

accept it .. or be steam rolled in this oblivion of living ..

it shall be expected for you to resolve .. and one upon the other blanket indulged duvets shall be wrapped around you .. some of your own being, some engulfed by the 'tuck in' from another or the 'other' ..

do not and never be oblivious of the 'other' .. psychological parametrics and literary gymnastic parallel bars, roman rings, and wooden horses on comforted landing softeners shall evidently be present for motionless stationary still landings .. but ever the nadiacomăneciesue scorings are a misguidance .. computerised ratings of life shall never be computed with the perfect10 ..

resolve is never singular .. it needs a companion .. not the obvious kind , but the one that duplicates the singular, in its own resolve , to resolve the resolve .. which as I said, never ever does be in fructification ..

go live .. bear the bricks and the bats that come your way .. hold up that symbolic racquet to swipe away the forehand double handed backhand in the volleyed tram lined courts .. play the deuce, advantage, and back to the deuce .. this game shall not have the grand slam result ..

My care and love to all ..❤️

Amitabh Bachchan

GO !!

get out of the wave and taste the salt ... the reaction acid with the base of the chlorinated sodium !!!

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twistedwonderlandobsession · 6 months

Text

.•♥︎Spilled Tea♥︎•.

Series:Yuu Needs Therapy

Branch: Overblotts

Character: Riddle

Part: 1 of ?

Riddle....Riddle had always made you nervous. Not in the butterflies in your stomach way, but in the way of being caught by your parents doing something you shouldn't. Like he was looking through your very soul with that oh so piercing gaze every time he crossed paths with you. Like he was constantly judging your every move, analyzing everything. Pointing out every imperfection within the confines of his mind. A scolding with each glance, on the first day when Grimm caused a ruckus to every single time you passed him in the hall, every mere glance felt as if it was a lecture despite not a singular word of criticism passing his lips, just a firm line and

dissaproving glare whenever he saw you.

You spent so much time trying to resolve the small Quarles while trying to not get your head chopped off, walking on eggshells around him, choosing each and every word and action with precision while trying to poke and prod Ace's massive ego into just apologizing. Your hands chapped while shakily attempting to Crack open the chestnuts in order to make that damn tart. Making sure it looked absolutely perfect with bo cracks whatsoever. Wrapping it nicely in the best container you could. Reminding Ace to use gentle and careful words, even telling him exactly what ti say in order to make this all go away so you can be rid of him sleeping on that sofa.

Appearing at the birthday party with a small smile along with Ace and Deuce in tow. Watching as Ace apologized offering up the tart, before Riddles face turned Horrified apon finding out the mere flavor. Acting as if your ran over one of his hedgehogs for breaking the nonsensical Rule: 262 about how chestnuts tarts were forbidden from birthday parties. Unable to do anything but watch as he threw out their group and got rid of the tart, not by putting it in the fridge far away from the Birthday Party, but throwing it into the trash.

Failing over and over as you attempted to calm Ace's completely understandable frustration. But he completely refused to even attempt to apologize once more, and then Crowley dumped that unhelpful peice of information on them, encouraging the already roudy freshman to enact some sort of justice against the Crimson Tyrant.

Unable to stop them as they challenge their dear Housewarden to a duel. Proving his skills and cementing his position, which was both amazing and horrifying at the same time to all of the spectators. Amazed at his skills, but Horrified that he would remain in his position of power over the Heartslabyul students.

Then you had to watch yet again as any chance of a peaceful solution was dashed when Ace punched Riddle square in the face.

Having to desperately attempt to calm Riddle down after he overblotted, litterally fighting for your life as you attempted to snap him out of his enraged stupor. Being almost beaten senseless, blood splattered over the grass, painting any possible misscolored roses in a deep shade of red, trying to get the students out of the line of fire while Trey tried to hold back his magic. Absolutely helpless to do anything other than direct people and try to not be hit my his magic that would have killed a magic student easily, let alone your very magicless self. Barely managing to survive and snap him out of it with the combined magic of Trey, Carter, Deuce, Ace, and Grim combined.

Breathing heavily as relief filled your body as Riddle snapped out of his Rage and had a small breakdown while Trey dragged the sniffling Housewarden to the infirmary, while Carter attempted to gather all the injured students to the infirmary, most having a decent amount of blood loss, no less then 1/2 a litter for a most. Your skin covered bruises with blood soaking your clothing causing it to stick to your body as the metalic sent filled your nostrils. Your heart pounding through your chest as the noise of it filled your eardrums overwhelming any other of your senses.

Carter's appalled face twords grim consumption of the strange rock being the last thing you saw before suddenly black filled your vision.

#twst scenarios #disney twst #twst incorrect quotes #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst heartslabyul #twst #riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland riddle #yuu needs therapy #riddle overblot

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luvangelbreak · 2 months

Text

Deprived | Twenty-one

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 22 Part 23 matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc) summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths. warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, injuries word count: 2.8k a/n: gasp!!

pov: matt

"Hey pretty boy," Layla's voice rang through the cold air as I felt her arms wrap around my waist, her chest pressed to my back as she leaned up to kiss me on the cheek. I smiled as I placed my hands on hers before turning my head to look back at her smiling face.

"Hey," I murmured as I leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. She smiled against me before someone cleared their throat. She pulled away from me and I turned around to see Mia glaring at us from where she stood between Nate and Nick.

Layla moved to stand next to me but I grabbed her wrist, pulling her to stand in front of me as I leaned back against the side of the minivan. I wrapped my hands around her waist before I placed my chin on her shoulder. She placed her hands over mine as she leaned back into me comfortably.

I didn't realise how much I missed being close to her until I lost the opportunity to. The past week my mind had been in a constant state of purgatory, torn between trying to fix whatever rift was between us or deciding if I didn't want to talk to her anymore. Of course, the latter was at the forefront of my mind when I was initially angry but I knew it would hurt me more in the long run. It was a short-term solution and it wasn't what I really wanted.

What happened wasn't worth losing her over.

"You wanna come over?" I asked her quietly and she shivered from my breath fanning against her neck.

"I can't," she answered quietly and I furrowed my eyebrows as she turned to look at me, her brown eyes glowing in the small sunlight that peaked between the clouds, "Gotta help my dad with something."

"Can I come over then?" I asked and she pursed her lips, her eyes scanning my face before she shook her head.

"It's family stuff. I'm sorry," she leaned back, kissing my cheek gently before turning to face the group that was stood in front of us. As much as it bummed me out that I couldn't spend the rest of the day with her, I understood that I couldn't insert myself into her life with no boundaries.

I let my mind travel to tomorrow, realising it was our last game of the season and it was the deciding factor of whether or not we won the finals. I realised that I never updated Layla on our game last week.

"We're onto the finals by the way," I whispered, pulling her attention away from our friends once again and she whipped her head around to look at me, "Tomorrow's the last game."

"You won?" she asked excitedly and I smiled gently, nodding my head as I did so, "That's amazing!"

"What's amazing?" Chris asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked at us and Layla smiled as she turned to look at me.

"You guys are in the finals!" she told him with joy and he nodded, a proud smile covering his face, "Why did no one tell me?"

"Probably because you were being a bitch," Mia rolled her eyes and I let my face drop as I felt Layla's energy shift, her shoulders slumping slightly.

"Can you shut the fuck up, Mia?" I spat, my built-up frustration towards her finally spilling over and she frowned as she looked at me in disbelief, "If anything you're the one being a fucking bitch right now."

"Are you serious?" she asked, her mouth hung open as she stared at me and Layla laced her fingers with mine. She squeezed my hand in an attempt to calm me down.

"Dead serious. I told you if you don't stop I'm not gonna be your friend and I'm getting real fucking close to following through with that," I deadpanned, not feeling an ounce of guilt as her face contorted into hurt, "You have no reason to be such a bitch to Layla so fucking stop."

"I can't believe you," she mumbled, her face turning sour as she spun around and began walking out of the parking lot.

"Matt, you didn't have to be so hard on her," Allie spoke softly and I raised my eyebrows as I looked at her.

"How else is she gonna know that I'm that I'm serious? She hasn't listened to me this far," I explained, anger laced through the words that came out through gritted teeth and Layla once again squeezed my hand. I sighed, placing my forehead on her shoulder to calm myself down.

"It's okay," Layla said softly as she ran her thumb across the back of my hand and I shook my head against her shoulder.

"No, it's not," I mumbled and she sighed, leaning her head on top of mine. I felt a sense of peace wash over me, the rest of the world fading away as I only focused on her.

The way she smelled, the way her hand felt in mine, the way her thumb gently caressed the back of my hand and the way her breathing began matching mine. I lost track of time when I was with her, the only time my brain truly shut off was when I was around her. I craved that moment of us alone again and I knew she could sense that.

"Matt," Nick called my name and I reluctantly lifted my head to look at him, "Mom said we need to go grocery shopping for dinner. We gotta leave soon."

"Oh for fucks sake," I grumbled and Layla giggled under her breath making me look at her with a frown, "What?"

"Nothing," she shrugged, a smile still on her lips as I continued to stare at her, "You're just funny when you're grumpy."

"Alright, Miserable Matt. Let's go," Chris rolled his eyes as he rounded the car to jump in the passenger side and I let my frown deepen at the nickname that had stuck anytime I was anything but happy.

"I don't wanna go," I grumbled quietly enough that only Layla could hear as Nick began climbing into the backseat and Layla slowly pulled away from me as I groaned. She spun around to face me as she gave me a gentle smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow, pretty boy," she leaned in, pressing a kiss to my lips before pulling away. She knew I'd get carried away if she let the kiss linger for too long, "Have fun, Miserable Matt."

"Fuck you," I rolled my eyes as she began walking away and I pushed away from the car to stand up.

"I know you want to!" she called cheekily making me snicker as I jumped into the car, mumbling a goodbye to Nate and Allie as they got into his car.

+++

I don't know how many times I'd checked my phone since I messaged Layla asking if we could Facetime. It had been 3 hours and she still hadn't read my message. I was checking my phone every 5 minutes to see if she had replied.

"Dude," Chris deadpanned and I looked over at him from where he sat on the couch, "What are you stressing about?"

"Nothing," I brushed him off and he rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he went back to scrolling aimlessly on his phone, not bothering to pry further. I picked up my phone again, the notifications still empty and I sighed loudly.

"If you don't put that fucking phone down Matt I'm gonna throw it in the pool," Nick deadpanned and I looked over at him with a frown, "She'll reply when she has a moment. Stop being a psycho."

"I'm not being a psycho," I rolled my eyes, locking my phone as I put it face down on the couch. I slouched further back onto the couch as I crossed my arms over my chest, my eyes drifting back to the TV where a random movie was playing.

"I didn't know you were so clingy," Chris joked as he continued scrolling on his phone and I ignored him as I chewed on the inside of my cheek. Suddenly, there was a knock at the front door and I frowned, looking between my brothers.

"We expecting anyone?" I questioned as I got up from the couch, knowing both of my parents were already in bed so it wouldn't be anyone here for them. Both Nick and Chris shook their heads and I hesitantly walked to the front door. I swung it open to find Layla standing there with trembling hands and shaky breaths leaving her mouth. Her hair was covering the majority of her face but when she looked up at me, my heart dropped.

"I didn't have anywhere else to go," she choked out as tears sprung to her eyes and I froze for a moment, my body not knowing how to handle the situation.

"Matt, who is it?" I heard Nick's voice appear behind me for a moment before he gasped, "Holy shit. Layls, are you okay?"

"What's going on?" Chris asked and I ignored him as I grabbed Layla's arm to pull her inside. I didn't even close the front door behind me as I pulled her into the kitchen.

"Here, sit on the bench," I told her as shoved the various papers away from the edge of the island before I held her waist to help her up onto the cold marble, "Chris, get the first aid kit."

Chris didn't respond, I only heard him run down the hall to get the first aid kit from the bathroom as Layla caught her breath in front of me. Nick walked over to the freezer, grabbing out an ice pack as I placed my hand on her thigh.

"Baby, are you hurt anywhere else?" I asked, my voice shaking as I took in the pure terror in her eyes and she nodded her head, "Can you tell me where?"

"My back," she croaked out and I sighed when Chris returned with the first aid kit, quickly unpacking it on the bench beside her.

"Can I take this off? I just wanna check the rest of your body," I asked her softly as I grabbed the hem of the pink sweater that had drops of blood splattered over it. She didn't respond verbally, only nodded her head as she unravelled her arms from around her stomach.

I gently pulled the crewneck up as she lifted her arms up for me to slide the material over her head. She was only wearing a thin tank top underneath so it made it easier for me to scan her body for any damage. My heart cracked in my chest when I noticed the myriad of bruises littering her body as she covered her face with her hands. I moved around her, noticing the giant bruise on the lower half of her back. I tried not to stare too long knowing it would make her feel insecure so I let out a breath as I grabbed her wrists to pull her hands away from her face as she sniffled.

"Let me help pretty girl," I whispered as she continued looking down between us in shame and she once again nodded. Chris and Nick just stared at me in worry, their entire demeanour towards her changing now that they realised she was in some sort of danger. I could tell they wanted to help but weren't sure how. I let my eyes scan her face, the cut on her right cheekbone continued bleeding as it dripped down her face slowly and the split on her lip had dried blood around it.

"I can clean the cuts if you want," Chris spoke up softly and Layla turned her head to look at him as she tried to keep herself calm, "I know how to do it properly."

"You okay with that?" I asked her as I grabbed her hand and she hesitated for a moment before she nodded. Chris quickly grabbed the gauze and disinfectant wipes as I moved to stand to her left, still holding onto her hand to bring her any sort of comfort that I could.

"This might sting a little," Chris mumbled as he tore open the packet of wipes before unfolding it. Layla moved her hair out of her face, holding it back with a shaking hand as Chris moved to stand between her legs. As he began wiping around the small gash, she hissed from the pain, "Sorry. I'll try to be quick."

"Matt," Nick said from behind Layla on the other side of the island making me look up at him. He tilted his head down towards her lower back and I leaned forward, noticing the bruise on her lower back seemed to get worse by the minute before he asked Layla quietly, "Layls, does it feel like anything is broken?"

She took a moment to let Chris pull away as her face screwed up in pain before she muttered, "No. Just my back really hurts."

"Can I put the ice pack on it?" Nick asked and she hummed as Chris picked up the tweezers.

"This is gonna hurt," Chris let her know and she hummed once again as Nick placed the ice pack against her back. Chris began picking out small shards of glass that were stuck on the edge of the cut as Layla squeezed my hand. She let out a groan and Chris pursed his lip as he tried to work quickly before he mumbled, "Almost done."

He put the tweezers down before grabbing another disinfectant wipe, ripping the packet open and quickly wiping the cut gently once again. He grabbed another gauze and placed it over the cut before he leaned back.

"Hold that there until the bleeding stops then I'll tape a clean one on after," he explained, his voice calm as she nodded. She replaced his hand with her own, "I'm gonna clean your lip but if you put an icepack on it after it will heal fine."

She hummed in response as he used the disinfectant wipe to clean the cut on her lip before he pulled away and stepped back. She gave him a small smile that didn't reach her eyes as she whispered, "Thank you."

"Of course," Chris shrugged as he grabbed the wipes and the rest of the trash on the bench beside her.

"Here," Nick said as he leaned over the island and handed me another small ice pack. I nodded thankfully before I placed the ice pack on her lip and she looked at me with heavy eyes. I gave her a small smile as I leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"You okay?" I asked quietly and she closed her eyes, shrugging as she shivered.

"Let us know if you guys need anything," Nick said as he rounded the island and Layla looked at them both with sad eyes.

"Sorry for just walking in like this," she said quietly, her voice filled with shame and Nick shook his head as Chris stood in the doorway to go down the hall.

"It's okay. Just glad to know you're okay," he said softly and she gave him a small smile. Both of them exited the room and I moved to stand between her legs, still holding the ice pack against her lip as I looked down at her.

She didn't say anything, she just grabbed my wrist to pull my hand away that was holding the ice pack and she placed her forehead on my chest with a sigh. I let my shoulders drop as I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and pulled her into me.

We stood like that for a moment in silence as I let her breathe, looking down at her back where the bruise seemed to now be fully formed. I felt a weight on my chest, an anger flushing over me towards whoever did this to her. I knew being angry wouldn't help her right now but I couldn't push down the feeling as it rose throughout my body.

"I'm so tired," she mumbled, snapping me out of my own thoughts as she pulled away from me slightly and I looked down at her once again tear-filled eyes, "This is just so tiring."

"I'm sorry, pretty girl," I whispered as I placed another kiss on her forehead, a few tears spilling down her red cheeks as she tried to steady her breathing, "Do you want to go to my room? We can just lay down for a bit."

She let out a shaky breath before nodding and I pulled away from her. I helped her off of the counter and she grabbed the pink sweater as I grabbed the large ice pack that was against her back. I threw it in the freezer, grabbing a bag of frozen peas since it would cover the surface of her back more before I grabbed her hand and we made our way upstairs slowly, her legs shaky as she walked. As we made our way into my bedroom the only thing that ran through my mind was:

Whoever did this to her, they're going to wish they were dead once I find out.

tags:

@dsturniolo @chrisstankyleg @lov3bug @pinklittleflower @thatcrazybitch-69 @trinity2058 @alorsxsturn @chrizznmetswife @ilovechrissturniolo1 @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @sturnfix @lilsstvrn @sturniololol @sturniolowhore @jebbie-project-blog @jaxyy219

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