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mrchiipchrome · 2 months

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The Museum

W.C. - 5.2 k

this is so the 'pookie looks absolutely fire' tiktok couple coded

thank you to the anon that requested this, much love to you:)

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The skittles made a crunching sound as your molars bit down on them, it was an every day snack for you, tasting the rainbow more often than not. It was a relatively new habit, but when your ex had broken up with you, you promised yourself to become a better person.

It obviously had to be you who had something wrong with them, otherwise she wouldn’t have fallen in love with someone else and out of love with you. Quitting smoking was the first thing on your agenda, hence the skittles.

The next thing was to get away from the small southern town in Texas, move so far away that you left the country entirely. The only thing you’d taken with you on the plane was a carryon with 2 changes of clothes, your cowboy hat and a dream of bettering your life.

The third thing you bettered was your health, going out for a run every morning through the streets of London, going to the gym after work, doing push-ups before bed. It worked wonders, the tips you got from the ladies at the bar where you worked were simply incredible.

The fourth thing you wanted to improve was your cultural knowledge, the exact reason why you were standing in the middle of a museum, old renaissance paintings in every corner of the large room. It was something you appreciated, none of that modern bullshit where people just taped a banana to a canvas and called it art, it was back from when people actually painted.

Your hand slipped down your body into your jacket pocket, fetching another piece of candy, although a voice speaking up from your right startled you nearly enough for you to drop it back into the bag.

“You’re not supposed to eat in museums, you know?” The woman had a foreign dialect, just like you. You guessed it was from somewhere in the middle of Europe, maybe Germany or any of the neighboring countries.

“It’s not a problem if you don’t tell on me, no one has to know.” She seems just as startled by your accent as you were by her speaking to you, her cheeks dusted with a light pink at the wink you sent her.

“What are you going to do if I tell them? Take me back to your ranch on your horse?” The mystery woman teases, obviously making fun of the accent and the cowboy hat sitting perched on your head. In response you laugh under your breath, shaking your head in amusement.

“I’m afraid that I left the ranch back in Texas, Miss. All I have here is a small one bedroom apartment.” She looks up at you through the side of her eye, her half smile distracting you more than you’d like to admit. Her brows knit together when she notices a security guard eying the two of you curiously and her elbow digs into your ribs when you once again reach for the skittles in your pocket.

“Nice hat, my friend would be jealous.” You nod in agreement, plucking the stetson off your head and turning it around in your hand. In a brief moment of stupidity, you place the cowboy hat on the pretty stranger’s head, it falling down the front of her face to cover her eyes. It’s frankly adorable, the way she brings her hand up to push it back to the crown of her head.

The reassuring smile on her face tells you that she approves of your action, a relief to your entire being. She takes her phone out of her back pocket, turning it on and snapping a picture of you both, the cowboy hat still perched on top of her head.

In response, you snap a picture of her alone, the woman posing like a cowboy would for you. She was going to be the wallpaper of your phone for a while, even though you didn’t even know her name.

“So, do you have a name or am I just going to have to call you mine?” The cheesy pickup line just slips out, not at all consciously, it was like instinct took over, a pretty girl was to be flirted with.

“I wouldn’t mind being called yours, but for now you can call me Lia.” The woman doesn’t seem uncomfortable by your advances, in fact she embraces them, teasing smile telling you that she found it amusing how worried you got over a simple pickup line.

“Lia, a beautiful name for an even more gorgeous girl.” She gains her pink tint back, the compliment likely the cause of her blush. It wasn’t like she never got complimented, it was just the attractive zing your accent put over the words that made them feel more sincere.

“And how about you? A name attached to that pretty face?” Now it was your turn to blush at the other woman’s words, her lips splitting into a full toothed smile.

“Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n.” You imitate Bond to introduce yourself, sticking your hand out for her to take, a firm handshake and the tip of an imaginary hat letting her know who exactly it is you are.

“Good to know my future last name.” She winks at you and the blush that’s already covering your face deepens significantly. The insinuation that you were to marry the girl beside you too much for your poor little heart to take.

She starts to walk away from you and towards another section of the room, looking back over her shoulder when she realizes that you weren’t right beside her, walking. Waving her hand in a “come here” motion, you quickly catch up with the older woman.

“So, why skittles? Is there not any other sweet you’d rather have?” She asks as you match her slow rhythm of steps, your hands shoved in the pockets of your coat with your arms forming loops. Lia threads one of her arms through yours, leaning her head on your shoulder, standing still all of a sudden to look at a painting. It didn’t feel like you’d just met, like you’d just introduced yourselves to one another, it felt like you’d known each other for decades, easily slipping into being comfortable with each other.

You gaze at her as she looks at the painting, making sure to map out all her gorgeous features and commit them to memory. She was like a breath of fresh air in a world of polluted oxygen.

“First of all it’s called candy, not sweets, candy. Secondly, they’re amazing for when you want to stop smoking.” Her cheek smushes against your shoulder as she turns her head to look up at you, her eyebrows scrunched together adorably.

“You were a smoker?” You feel the strong urge to place a peck atop her lips, soft and warm against your own. But in the end you resist, you’d only just met the woman for god’s sake, you don’t want to make her uncomfortable. Her eyes hold so many emotions that you just can’t read.

“Yeah, only for about a year. My ex stressed me out so much that I felt it was the easiest way to deal with it. But when she broke up with me, I decided to get my life back together, moved here, got a job at a bar and that’s it. That’s why I’m here.” Lia listens intensively at the story you’re telling her, the way she looks at you suggests that she’s hanging off your every last syllable.

“So no more smoking at all for you?” You puff your chest up, proudly displaying the grin on your face and your now discolored tongue. Lia looks on in amusement at your actions, a grin that could light up an opera house on her face.

“Nope, I’m never picking up a cigarette again.” The amusement turns into a sort of profound proud feeling, a feeling that she definitely shouldn’t be feeling for what is practically a stranger. A stranger that in the matter of a mere hour had worked their way into her heart and made themselves home.

“Good, I’m really happy for you.” The softened look on Lia’s face makes you blush, it was the way most people looked at their loved ones. You couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to be one of her loved ones, how it would feel to see her first thing in the morning, to gaze into her tentative eyes and try to read her like a book just because you know exactly how it is she acts, how she feels at that exact moment, what she thinks.

At your faraway look Lia nudges you in the ribs, giggling at the embarrassed expression that occupies your face. Her giggle could only be described as a ray of sunlight, lighting the glum room up in seconds, giving it a golden glow.

The older woman doesn’t miss the fondness in your gaze as you watch her laugh, your own lips splitting into a smile and soon after a loud belly laugh bubbles up in your chest, welling out of your mouth like water out a dam.

Only moments later the both of you are doubled over in laughter, tears slipping down your cheeks and arms crossed over your stomachs. Some scattered guests give you two dirty looks, as if you were peasants in a house full of royals, but they are counter effective because it only makes you and Lia laugh harder.

The security guard from earlier approaches you both as you drop down to the floor with a loud thump, Lia bursting out into an entire new fit of laughter as you try to catch your breath.

“Y/n, I’ve already let you get away with a lot today but this is your last strike. Up you get, I’ll escort you and your lady companion to the exit.” He speaks through his thick mustache, his round beer gut bobbing up and down with every word like he needed every fat covered muscle of his stomach to get the words out.

Small giggles escape you both as Lia and you are led out of the building by a firm grip around both of your arms. You both watch in amusement as the fat man gets winded walking back up the stairs he just led you down, bending over for a brief second at the top before disappearing back behind the door.

“So, I take it you know the security guard then?” She sounds a little out of breath as she speaks to you, flyaways sticking out of her bun, your hand itches to reach up and smooth them out, undo her bun and run your fingers through her hair. But you don’t.

“Yeah, he’s my regular. Comes in every day and buys a pint after work, a good friend of mine he is. He lets me get away with eatin’ in there every time I come.” You stand right in front of the brunette, hands again in your pockets as you smile at her tentatively. Her hand comes up to rub at your arm, and you feel as though you were going to pass out at any moment, the electric feeling of her ring covered fingers touching your arm overwhelming in a good way.

“Ah, a museum nepo baby then.” You can tell that she’s joking by the way her eyebrows raise all the way up to her hairline, and you imitate her by doing the same thing. Another fit of giggles ensues, Lia looking directly into your eyes, holding eye contact for a prolonged amount of time.

It makes you nervous, her somewhat challenging gaze locking on your face for a moment longer than necessary. When she grasps your hands in hers you finally look back at her, meeting her tender gaze with your own.

“I really enjoyed today, I was hoping we could do it again sometime.” The older woman looks at you sheepishly, nearly nervously. You’re mesmerized by her gorgeous simplicity, simple smile grazing her lips as you nod, a recognisable warmth behind the hug she gives you, the quick kiss she places on your cheek haphazardly before walking away, not looking back to see your rose tinted cheeks.

It’s only when Lia has disappeared far behind the horizon that you realize that you have no way to contact her AND that she essentially got away with your favorite cowboy hat. You aren’t as distraught about your hat as you are about not getting her number, it was a dumbass move from you.

You drag your feet all the way back to your apartment, not knowing that only moments after you left the museum, the girl of your dreams ran back all the way to get your number. And like you, she dragged her feet all the way back to her apartment, sulking and questioning her own intelligence.

Arriving at the bar that evening was strange, you felt almost empty without the girl you’d met earlier that day, no light brown cowboy hat perched atop your head nor a beaming smile. It was weird to everyone around you, you always had that damned hat on, but now it was a completely different one, black with a few white accents.

“What happened to you? It looks like someone ran over your dog.” Your co-worker and best friend Marla asks, placing her hand on your shoulder softly as if you were to break if she did it any harder. Shaking your head, your other friend and co-bartender Jason comes up to rub your back softly, the comfort from both of your best friends loosening you up significantly and soon after you spill everything that had happened up to that point.

They were both smirking at you when you finished up the story, knowing that despite only just meeting the woman in the museum you were already in love.

“So do you have a picture of this goddess who’s making you drop to your knees?” Marla asks you, looking knowingly at your other best friend, who in return wiggles his eyebrows at her. You knew something would happen between them soon, and you’d rather be in hell than to watch it.

“Yeah, just give me a quick sec.” Pulling out your phone, you quickly unlock it and enter the photo app, not needing to scroll as the most recent photo was of her, Lia.

“Girl, are you fucking with me?” You look at the dark skinned girl in confusion, her eyes widening as she realizes that you had no fucking clue who it was you had met. She looks to her ‘boyfriend’ quickly in shock, who looks back at her equally appalled.

“Are you telling me you don’t recognise her?” The moment you shake your head is when the green eyed boy facepalms, not believing your stupidity. “Not at all? You haven’t seen her before.” When you once again shake your head the man sighs in disappointment, all faith in your intelligence practically gone.

“Girl. That is Lia Wälti, you know one of the best midfielders in the country? Arsenal Women’s player.” Now it’s your turn to look shocked, not at all knowing that she was a footballer. All the times you’d gone over to Marla’s house to watch footy, she’d probably been injured.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I didn’t even recognise her.” You lean against the door, sliding your body down until you’re sitting flush on the floor, head in your hands. Jason places his hand on your shoulder, smiling softly at you as he tries to reassure your overwhelmed mind.

“Hey, man, it was probably a good thing that you didn’t recognise her. She knows that you’re not some crazed fan trying to kill her, eh?” Marla’s hand plucks your cowboy hat from your head and runs her fingers through your hair, your shared shift started in mere minutes and yet they were there, comforting you.

“I’m okay, just a bit shell shocked.” They both laugh, pulling you up by your hands and bringing you into a group hug, patting your back before Marla gives you your hat back, smacking both you and Jason’s asses before disappearing out to her office.

“You know, we have an extra ticket to the Arsenal game on Sunday, so I mean if you want to see her again then you’re welcome to join.” You smile at the man’s kindness, telling him that you’ll definitely take him up on his offer. You didn’t have a shift at the bar either way that day so spending it looking for your … well you didn’t really know what it was she is to you. All you know is that you wanted to see her again.

Two days later you find yourself sitting as close to the pitch as you possibly can, waiting for the North London derby to start.

Lia is in the starting lineup, looking determined as she waits for the whistle signaling the start of the game to sound. The shrill noise cuts through the air and the game starts.

It’s physical right from the start, loads of pushing and shoving coming from both sides, red and white. There are a few times where you nearly jump to your feet as Lia gets pushed but the fact that your friends sat there right beside you made you choose not to.

At half time the score is the same as the beginning, nil-nil. Despite not knowing much about football you join in on analyzing the first half of the game, mentioning all the times Lia went down. Marla makes some ‘innocent’ comments about how you’d much rather have her ‘go down’ somewhere else. The blush that overtakes your face is enough for you to blend in with your jersey, the red of the Arsenal shirt the same shade as your face.

When the second half starts, you’re basically on your feet all the way through, cheering loudly when Alessia scores, meaning that the gunners were up one-nil.

It’s particularly hilarious when Lia finally notices you, a pause in the game meaning that she had the time to look around at the fully packed Emirates Stadium. When those eyes you love to gaze into meet yours for the first time since Friday, her face split open in a smile, a smile reaching all the way up to her eyes.

It looks like she has to physically restrain herself so that she doesn’t run over to you, her body shaking slightly as she calmly inches her way towards you, the cheers of the fans around you becoming louder as the player comes closer. Lia tunes them all out though as she looks at you, the only thing cutting through her trance being the whistle signaling the freekick being awarded.

Lia looks back towards you as she walks in the direction of the group of players and you wink at her, even though she’s far away it seems like she saw it, the deep tint of red dusting her face definitely more than exertion from the game.

When the three loud whistles sound throughout the arena, it explodes in cheers as Arsenal manage to keep their one-nil lead and in doing so make London red again. But you don’t even acknowledge the win when there’s a speeding Lia Wälti heading straight in your direction.

She only starts to slow down as she reaches the barrier which separates the fans from the pitch and players, with you standing up behind it to watch her come closer and closer with every quick step she takes.

Lia throws her arms around your torso when she comes close enough, the way that she had been longing for your touch had been driving her crazy in the days since you first met. She also knew that it wasn’t smart to do it all out in the open, fans and professionals alike were probably going to know everything about you within a few days. You didn’t seem to mind though, content with having her in your arms again.

Pulling away from her, you quickly take her face in your hands, looking her over to see if her face was scratched up from all the times she’d met the ground in the game.

“Shit, darling, I think you spent more time on the ground in this game than on your feet. You ought to be more careful.” Your southern drawl is especially thick when you speak to her, the worry you’d experienced the entire game bubbling to the surface.

“I’m perfectly fine, I think you’re forgetting that I do this for a living.” She smiles at you reassuringly and you calm down fully, her hand placed on your arm a sure factor of it. Lia’s head turns to your side, looking directly at your friends who both send her starstruck looks.

“Hi, I’m Lia.” The footballer smiles in their direction and they both remain in their seats, completely unmoving. She looks back to you concerned and in response you just laugh, they were apparently not expecting her to actually greet them. “Are they okay?”

“I think they’re just a bit starstruck.” Gesturing towards their gaping mouths, Marla quickly slaps your hand away from her face, biting at the air to show you that she wasn’t afraid to bite.

“Oh okay, well do you think they want anything signed? I can ask the team, or maybe if you want we can go meet them?” Lia sounds unsure of herself, apparently doubting that her first impression on your friends was good.

“I think that they’d love that sweetheart. But judging from all the looks we’re getting from that same team, I do think they want you back.” You glance towards the women gathered in a clung in the middle of the pitch, all of them staring at you and Lia interacting. She sighs at their slightly invasive culture, but alas there wasn’t anything that she could do about it. When you smile and wave at them, you’re thoroughly amused when every single one of them repeats your actions back to you, some in confusion and some in amusement.

“A guard is going to tell you to follow him, just do as he says and we’ll meet again soon.” By that point the stadium was almost empty, everyone wanting to go home and brag about their team’s win over the archrival. So as Lia walks away from you, you’re totally free to stare at her ass, only stopping when Marla slaps your arm harshly.

“Did that just happen?” Jason asks shakily, running his hand down his face in embarrassment.

“You’re damn right it did.” You laugh at their stupid expressions, their embarrassment clear on their faces. “Well look on the bright side, y’all are going to meet the team.” With that their embarrassment turned into excitement, meeting their favourite athletes quickly turning their mood around.

“Y/n Y/l/n? Come with me and take your friends with you.” Walking around the labyrinth of slinging hallways and narrow paths, you appear in front of the locker room in no time, the loud music escaping the door a clear indicator of the Gunners good match.

“Now just wait out here until they come out, they’ll probably be out in a few.” The guard tells you unbothered, not caring at all that he’s leaving people he doesn’t know outside of the locker room.

“Yes sir.” You speak up clearly, mock saluting him as he disappears down the hallway with a sigh.

“I can’t believe that you’re 28, you act like a 12 year old.” Marla tells you jokingly, leading to you pushing her away from you. In the span of a few seconds both you and Marla find yourselves on the floor, engaging in a wrestling match. It only gets broken up when the sound of the door opening echoes through the hallway, both you and your best friend quickly getting on your feet.

“Nah what’s going on here?” A very amused Irish accented voice escapes the player exiting the locker room, one Katie McCabe staring at you and Marla.

“It was her fault.” You point at Marla so as to gesture that it was her who started it, the woman vehemently denying it.

“So I’m guessing you’re Lia’s cowboy then?” Katie completely ignores the blame game currently going on in front of her as she talks to you. Blushing at being called Lia’s, you quickly start to stutter out an answer.

“I- uhm yeah, I think so?” Laughter coming from behind the Irish woman makes you glance in the direction of the sound. Seeing Leah Williamson of all people is not what you expect, a bit starstruck yourself.

“Of course it’s the cowboy you buffoon, who else would wear a cowboy hat in London? You have to tell me where you bought the one Lia brought home, I need a new one. Mylie-moo chewed mine to filth a couple days ago.” Leah throws her arm around your shoulder as if you’d known each other for years, the woman clearly having heard a thing or two about you.

“Oh well I’ll be sure to bring you one next time I go back to Texas, my buddy Carl, he’s 72 and he makes the most gorgeous hats you can imagine. Last time I visited him I made him an instagram page, I’ll send you the link if you want?” You speak enthusiastically with the England captain, her arm still resting around your shoulders casually. Both Marla and Jason are in a conversation with Katie and Lotte, who just got out of the locker room.

“Important question, so answer me truthfully now, do you like country music?” She looks at you skeptically, trying to deduce if you’re being truthful or not. The question itself makes you roll your eyes playfully, but alas it didn’t surprise you. It was widely known that Leah was quite the country fan.

“Ma’am I grew up in Texas, yeah I’m a country fan. I’d be disowned if I wasn’t.” Leah looks at you like you’re her hero, it was clear to you that she accepted you. The hinges of the door squeak as a few other players exit, namely Lia.

“Lia please let me steal her, she’s perfect.” Leah says jokingly, holding onto your arm softly like she was a little kid. Lia looks at her weirdly, but quickly catches on to the joke, walking over to the two of you.

“I know, that’s why I want to keep her.” Lia wraps her arms around your waist tightly, her newly washed hair curling up into adorable curls, head placed on your shoulder.

“Sharing is caring.” Leah is on the verge of laughter as she talks, the statement a shocking one for sure. It was hilarious though so you also had to keep from laughing.

“I mean I wouldn’t mind-” Lia shoots you a mean glare at your half serious words, and even though it was like being glared at by an adorable kitten, Lia already had you wrapped around her finger. “Actually I’m taken so I don’t think that would work.”

All it takes for you all to break character is a shouted ‘WHIPPED’ coming from one of the players watching the interaction like it was a soap opera, the three of you laughing like it was the last thing you’d do.

“Alright, anyone want a drink? Not to brag but I can make a mean cocktail.” The women all cheer as you ask them, everyone rushing out to get into their cars and get to the bar. Just as you’re about to follow them, someone takes hold of your collar, making it so that you can’t go.

Lia looks back when you don’t follow her but you just wave her off, telling her to go on without you. Turning back, you’re met with all the ‘scariest’ Arsenal players, looking like they’re about to beat you up.

“Listen carefully now, because this will only be said once, if you hurt a hair on her head, do anything to hurt her emotionally, if you do anything wrong that makes her sad, we will not hesitate to take your knees.” It’s Katie that speaks, all the others just nodding intimidatingly, glaring at you.

“I’m going to try my best to make her happy, I know that she deserves the world.” They let up the facade of intimidation at your words, patting your back and pushing you in the direction of the car park. The conversation as you all are walking out of the building is pleasant, when you arrive at the parking lot there are just a couple of cars left.

Both of your best friends had left you to carpool with one of the remaining players, Lia called dibs though the second she looked at you, so it was with her you went.

“They weren’t too scary with you right? I know how they can be.” Lia says over the soft music being played from the radio, some Tyler, the Creator song. You look at her face, she was in deep thought and absolutely adorable.

“Nah, it’s like being threatened by a pair of teddy bears. Let’s just say that I’ve had worse shovel talks.” She giggles as you start to tell her about all the weird shovel talks you’d gotten back in Texas, everything from being threatened with Chinese water torture to being hung upside down from a tree for simply speaking to a girl that wasn’t her.

When the bar comes into sight you see that multiple people have parked their cars right in front of it, telling Lia to just park on the curb.

“Y’all are such dickheads.” You laugh, slapping both Marla and Jason’s heads hard, they left you stranded.

“Well you’ve got a girlfriend now who can drive your broke ass.” Marla shoots back, rubbing her head in pain. You roll your eyes at her dramatic actions, the slap wasn’t that hard.

“One-nil to me then, at least I have someone.” The sibling like banter was normal between you two by now, she was your best friend after all.

“C’mon cowboy, let’s sit down for a little.” Lia’s hand rests on your stomach as you both sit down on the booth, the place to sit being suspiciously small, to the point in which Lia had to throw her legs over your lap to get enough space.

It was nice to sit and talk with the team, they were regular people just like anyone else and it made you glad to see them just relax after a match. The atmosphere was calm, so calm in fact that Lia managed to fall asleep on your shoulder, quiet snores escaping her mouth.

Only moments later you fall asleep too, after having fought sleep for as long as possible. Your head rests on top of Lia’s and the girls think it’s absolutely adorable, some of them taking pictures of you both to send to their group chat.

“I knew being friends with her would pay off.” Jason jokes, thinking naïvely that you were fully asleep, getting a few laughs from the girls in the room. They get startled though as you utter a quick;

“Hey!” In protest, everyone soon laughed at your dramatic reaction to his joke.

Who knew that going to the museum would result in you getting a date?

#woso #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #lia walti #lia walti x reader #woso imagines #woso fanfics

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 7 months

Text

.⋆｡Morning Voice｡⋆.

König x plus size reader

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x plus size reader

Just imagine their morning voices

Warnings: Lou is thirsty again, implied smut, secret relationship, mutual pinning, injuries, fluff, little angst, itty bitty bit of smut, might be ooc König, mention of stitches

WC: 970

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

König

It was the voices that woke you up. They were muffled behind the door to your private room but just loud enough to rouse you from a surprisingly restful sleep. You blinked your eyes open but the warmth that surrounded you and the heavy weight across your soft stomach urged you back to sleep.

Just as your eyelids fluttered shut once more, a thought occurred to you. You shuffled backwards just slightly and your ass came into contact with something hard and teasingly hot. There came a deep groan from above your head and the weight around your stomach tightened, drawing you even further back into them.

“Stop moving, liebling.” (darling) His voice rumbled through you like an earthquake, shaking you down to your core. It was breathy but not weak, no, you could hear its power waiting just below the surface. The German rolled off his tongue in a way that made your eyes roll back into your head.

“König.” You whimpered. “You have to go, they’ll find out.” But you made no effort to pull away from his protective hold, in fact you snuggled back into the colonel, putting your right hand on top of his own much larger one.

He laughed softly into your hair before planting a kiss to the crown of your head. “I think you would rather me stay spatzi.” (little sparrow) Long fingers danced down your plump stomach, drawing closer and closer to your core. “I think you need me right here.”

You gasped as he finally cupped your mound, the butt of his hand brushing against your overworked clit. “König.” You bit your lip, trying to keep your voice down.

“That seems to be all you can say this morning.” He teased and rolled his hips into your ass, forcing his hardening length between her cheeks. “How about I make you scream it?”

Ghost

The words on the report in front of you had stopped making sense about 2 paragraphs ago but you continued your attempt at reading the action report just to distract from the sight only a few feet away from you. The room was silent save for the quiet beeping of the heart monitor and the almost deafening sound of your own breathing.

With a groan, you threw the folder of papers onto your cluttered desk and looked back up to the bed in front of you.

He was only wearing a tight black shirt and tan cargo pants but you had insisted that the old skull balaclava remain firmly on his head. His wide chest rose and fell consistently, giving you peace of mind even as your hands still burned from stitching up so much of his body and the smell of blood still overpowered that hospital smell you had grown so used to.

He looked so small laying on the infirmary cot, his normally overwhelming presence now dwindling down to an ember and it broke your heart. Not because you were in love with the man! You cared out of professional obligation given you were the only doctor for the 141.

As the clock struck 3 am, you stood up from your desk and approached the bed. You told yourself that you were just going to check his stitches but you never even touched his bandages. Instead you sat on the rickety folding chair that Gaz had found in one of the broom closets.

Simon’s hand was devastatingly cold as you took it into your own. You cradled his palm, tracing over the various silvery lines of scars with your fingertips. Exhaustion hit you all at once and you couldn’t help but slump over the huge man, your head coming to rest on his thick thigh. “Only for a second,” You muttered, “Just need to rest my eyes.”

His whole body ached as Simon slowly slipped back into consciousness. His mouth was dry and parts of his skin felt stretched to its limits. But as he opened his eyes, all of that faded away. You were dead asleep on his lap, holding his hand as small snores escaped your lips.

He tutted at the huge dark bags beneath your eyes and he vaguely wondered how long you had been awake for. With his other hand, he cupped your head, marvelling at the way that he almost covered your whole head. You grunted softly and nuzzled into his touch.

Simon would love to let you keep sleeping especially since you were using him as a pillow but your neck was at a weird angle and he didn’t imagine that the metal folding chair you were sitting on was particularly comfortable.

So with a considerable amount of hesitation, he spoke up. “Doc.” His voice was broken and husky, just barely louder than the machines attached to him. Your brows scrunched and you burrowed further into his thigh, clutching his left hand even tighter.

He smiled beneath his balaclava.

Pain ripped through his body as Simon bent forward. He slipped his hand from your hold carefully in order to slip them both under your armpits. You were a dead weight in his arms, exacerbating the tight stitches on his sides but he still pulled you up easily, laying your soft body down between his legs.

Your head fell to his shoulder, nose immediately pushing against his throat. “Si?” You asked sleepily, attempting to sit up but a hand on your shoulder and another one on your wide hip prevented you from moving.

“Go back to sleep doc, I’ll still be hurt in the morning.” Heat crawled up your neck with the deepness of his voice and you found yourself unable to disagree, even though you were probably causing him even more pain. You nodded against his skin and Simon squeezed your hip gently. “That’s my good girl.” He purred.

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staarri · 18 days

Text

𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨 — 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡.

c. scaramouche

character(s) are friends with reader, gn!reader, angsty-ish, scaramouche is still in the fatui, this is a work of fiction

fluff , love letter . word count : roughly 0.9k

t. @aventurne @tragedy-of-commons @yvnaology @nyoomiin

Scaramouche is not an easy man to love. He’s busy, constantly busy, awake even during the most ungodly hours of the night and constantly rubbing at his eyes from his exhaustion. It’s no surprise the Fatui are overworking him again. What’s funny is that he’s sitting at his desk, a pile of papers on the right side–all reports from his underlings–were unnoticed; all of it, even the chirping of the birds as the sun rose and showed the start of a new day, Scaramouche was stuck on a piece of paper in front of him with the words that reads, To my dearest.

There's no way he can capture your beauty on a cheap piece of parchment . He should’ve bought something expensive instead, like a new set of clothes he thinks you’ll like. But lately you’ve just seemed so distant. He needs to reach you somehow. You’ve been driven away by the lies his mouth spills and now, he’s suffering with the consequences, and not once will he ever say it to you, but he needs you to stick with him while he tries to better himself.

So here he is: a fountain pen in hand, wasting his time with something so.. childish. Who writes letters anyway, isn't it something you did as a child towards someone you liked?

Call him a child then. Call him old-fashioned, traditional, and in love. Call him whatever you like, because in the end he’s yours, and he’s always been.

He’s let his thoughts linger for too long and suddenly it's 7 am. His eyebags have never been worse and his mind is tired, not from his job, but from this stupid letter he’s made no progress on. To my dearest should be good enough, right? I mean, you were easy to please. He was sure that it would be more than enough for you.

How tiring. He says, mindlessly scribbling on the paper, jet-black ink scattered all throughout and splattering around the words. Was he angry? Not at all. Frustrated, yes, but for a good reason–to think he did this just because you two were friends was infuriating. Shouldn’t you two be something more?

You were pretty, far too pretty for him to describe. Scaramouche thought his vocabulary was wide enough, but this letter alone has him searching for the words he once knew. Your eyes, leaving him feeling small in a never ending forest and your smile–god, your smile was intoxicating. It would give light to the things he’s been hiding from you this entire time. Your laugh–your voice, sweet and soft, loud and oh-so clear. How you’d bring it down to a whisper when you feel embarrassed about admitting something, how your nose scrunches up when you laugh or when your smile lines just seem so fitting for someone like you.

What was so special about you?

You were like the sunset on the beaches, glowing. Absolutely stunning, ethereal, lighting everything in a bright orange, his eyes becoming a mix of brown and a dark blue. He’s different around you, he's a completely different person. From the color of his eyes to the racing of his heart, to the feeling that he wasn’t getting enough air whenever you hold his hand–but you’d do it in a friendly way. You don't squeeze his hand too tight, you let go when necessary and don’t leave any kind of touch lingering for far too long.

Scaramouche is not an easy man to love. He’s bad with words and he can’t tell you the things you want to hear;he can’t provide you with the touch you crave, he can’t make up his mind. One moment he’s thinking about just giving you a whole bag of mora for you to use for your next trip, the other he’s thinking about finishing this damn letter that has plagued his mind ever since you first whispered the fact you appreciate him.

There’s no way he can treat you right. There’s absolutely no way he will be perfect, that he’ll be the partner that’ll leave such a mark on you. But god, ask for the world and he will give it to you. Name one thing and when you wake up it's right at your nightstand. Choose the ring and its design, he’ll get a matching one that you yourself decided on as well. Just say the word because he is a child in love.

So here he is, an envelope in hand. Going to the nearest flower shop to buy something that will still wilt under the sun after a few days. He will not love, and can’t love the same way as you, but he will learn how to.

Call him stupid;call him an idiot for falling for someone he knows is way too out of his league. But that’s all he is, and it's far too late to change that. He might lose you at some point, and that's really what scares him the most.

Suddenly he’s standing at your doorstep, ringing the doorbell and you’d be confused who in the world decided to bring you a sunflower and a piece of envelope in the middle of the day–you don't recall ordering anything.

He didn’t even get to sign it. Maybe next time he can get it right… for his dearest.

characters belong to their respective companies. everything is written by staarri - do not steal, reupload, translate, modify or feed my work to ai.

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inbloomwriting · 10 months

Text

a calm surrender II Roy Kent

Plot: Roy doesn't love her. In fact, he finds her irritating above anything else. And yet he manages to tell her in so many different ways.

Pairing: Roy Kent x female reader

Warnings: A lot of swearing, mentions of food and alcohol. Reader takes Keeley's spot in some plot points - no disrepect to her though she's my favorite.

Notes: This is inspired by a "100 ways to say I love you" List. It’s 8.3k words, It's a big one.

Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

"It's enough for this restless warrior Just to be with you"

Take my jacket, it’s cold & You can have half

She’s irritating. Everything about her manages to get under his skin. The way she’s always smiling that big radiant smile of hers or the perpetual scent of jasmine and vanilla that seems to follow her anywhere. She laughs too loud, she’s a terrible driver and even worse at parking. The music coming from the physio room is mostly cheesy 80s and 90s pop songs that make Roy want to give himself a lobotomy. She’s irritating in every which way you look at it — and maybe that’s the exact reason why Roy can’t keep himself from looking at her.

Tonight is no exception. For some inexplicable reason, his eyes manage to find her across the room and in the crowd, every single time without fail. It’s not like it’s a conscious choice on his part either. It just happens. That sparkly green dress of her’s just seems to call out to him like the damn light across the bay at the Buchanan’s dock.

And the worst part is that she noticed. She caught his eyes on her more than once, even had the audacity to smirk back at him. During the auction, for a small moment, he thought she might bid on him when her hand just barely twitched and her eyes held a sense of infinite mischief. She didn’t though and for a second he could feel a string of disappointment pull at his heart. Not because he wanted her to bid on him or anything, he just wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of having to spend time with Cheryl Barnaby.

He managed to find her across the room all night — except for right now. Everyone’s on the dance floor. Keeley, Jamie, Ted, even Beard. But not her.

No one’s paying attention to him right now, if he were to just slip out of here, no one will notice.

It’s not like he wanted to be here in the first place. Sure, raising money for underprivileged children is something honorable and he would never let his own disdain for overly glitzy social events get in the way of doing the right thing. Doesn’t mean he has to like it though.

Emptying his glass with one last sip he grabs his jacket from the back of the chair and steps out into the chilly air of a London night.

It’s funny, really, how the moment he stops searching, the green light calls back out to him and she steps into his vision. A glowing beacon of refuge, guiding ships through dark nights to safe shores.

The cold air nips at her skin, sharp and vicious and Roy doesn’t even have to get any closer to her to notice that she’s shivering. He can barely suppress the urge to roll his eyes at her. Of course, she’s cold, she’s only wearing the dress and some flimsy chiffon scarf thing around her shoulders. That’s gonna do fuck all to shelter her from the cold. Irritating. She’s so irritating.

The most irritating part though, is that he can’t help but slip out of his suit jacket. The most irritating part is that he can’t help but care.

“Take my jacket, it’s cold.”

There it is again, that smile of hers. The one he sees sometimes when he’s about to fall asleep. How ridiculous, he thinks, how foolish of him. How absurd it is to fall asleep to the image of a smile belonging to a girl that annoys him more than anything and anyone. (Except maybe Jamie).

“Are you — are you talking to me? Little old me? Are you being nice to me?”

“Jesus fuck, don’t make it weird. I’m always nice.”

She giggles and it’s bloody adorable. So adorable that a smile threatens to pull the corners of his lips upwards. See? Fucking irritating.

“You hardly talk more than 3 words to me when you’re in the physio room but — okay. If that’s your version of nice.”

“Take the jacket or not, I don’t care. I’ll let you freeze out here if you’re trying to be difficult. Means fuck all to me.”

That’s not true. They both know it. No matter how much Roy tries to deny or hide it, there is a soft heart buried inside the rough exterior. He just can’t risk showing that to everyone. Can’t have people getting the wrong ideas.

“No, please I — sorry I’m just — you make me nervous and when I’m nervous I talk a lot and then most of what comes out is just stupid nonsense or deflecting humor or something. I would really appreciate that jacket. It really is fucking freezing.”

Roy has been in the public eye for years now, he’s used to people being intimidated, nervous. Usually, it’s strangers though, people who don’t know him. Those that do, that work with him, usually lose that feeling pretty quickly.

“Why the fuck would I make you nervous?”

She just glances at him before turning her face back towards the street “Have you seen yourself?”

He’s not sure how to take that. Is it a compliment? Does she think he’s handsome? It’s not like it matters to him really. In fact, the thought that she might find him attractive is — say it with me — fucking irritating.

He contemplates asking her outright if this is something she does on purpose. If she’s deliberately trying to rile him up. The words are on the tip of his tongue when he notices her shiver once again and all that was on his mind vanishes against the desperate need to keep her warm.

“Jesus. Let me just — “

Jasmine. Vanilla. He smells it when he slips the jacket around her shoulders. He wonders if his jacket will smell like that, like her, when he gets it back. Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Not because it’s her or anything — just because it smells fantastic and Roy is not one to deny himself the simple pleasures in life.

“I really appreciate it, Roy.”

And the gratefulness with which she says it is not irritating at all. It’s endearing. It’s flutters-in-his-tummy kind of wonderful.

Instead of reacting like a normal, reasonable person with a simple “you're welcome”, he gives her one of his signature grunts. That’s as good a normal reasonable reaction as anyone can expect from him, really.

“What are you out here all by yourself for anyway? Trying to get kidnapped or something?”

“No,” there it is again, the giggle. Ugh. “ I’m waiting for my Uber. He’s — “She checks her phone, illuminating her face with the harsh blue light. He thinks she looks wonderful either way. Then scolds himself for thinking it. Some simple pleasures he has to deny himself. “ 12 minutes away.”

Roy isn’t quite certain whether or not he considers himself a good person. He tries to be, it’s a conscious effort each and every day. He helps out his sister, he gives in to all of Phoebe’s wishes even if it means having to play the princess yet again and never getting to be the dragon. He donates more money to charity than the press is aware of, leaves hefty tips whenever he goes out to eat and though he does swear a lot, he still tries to be polite if he can.

He tries to be a good person and a good person doesn’t let a woman wait outside in the cold dark night by herself. No matter how infuriating she is.

“Do you mind if I keep you company? Couldn’t live with myself if you got snatched up and I was the last person to see you alive.”

A laugh tumbles from her lips. A step up from a giggle and god does it send shockwaves through his traitorous heart.

“The press would have a field day if that happened. I can see the headlines, ‘Football legend Roy Kent involved in the disappearance of Richmond sports physio’ and then they use a picture of you from like 10 years ago with the really bad long hair that makes you look a little sketchy.”

“I didn’t look sketchy.”

“You looked a little sketchy.”

Roy glances at her through the corner of his eyes. She really is a dream in forest green, the sequins, and rhinestones reflecting the street lights like little kaleidoscopes. He’s almost certain he’ll dream in shades of green tonight. He’s sure he’ll see her smiling face.

“You look beautiful.”

The words fall from his lips before he can stop them and it makes him want to put his head through a wall. Fuck.

“Thank you —” she replies bashfully, “do you want some sausage roll?”

In all the scenarios running through his head of how this conversation could’ve gone, this is not one of the outcomes he expected.

“What?” he asks, one eyebrow raised in question.

“Do you want a part of my sausage roll?” she chuckles and pulls a brown paper bag from her sparkly clutch bag. “I wasn’t sure if they were gonna actually feed us or just serve us rich people portions so I brought backup. You can have half if you want.”

She breaks the flaky pastry in two and holds one piece out to him. Even her nails are painted to match the dress. If he was any worse a man he would risk it all for just one taste of her and whatever black magic she possesses that gets so deeply under his skin. He is a better man than that tough, so he settles for a taste of the sausage roll.

“You’re a strange woman”

“Strange or smart?”

Taking a bite from the sausage roll, buttery and flaky and greasy, he must admit she has a point.

“Bit of both.”

“I can live with that.”

Silence settles upon them, well as silent as a London night can be. It feels weirdly comfortable. No expectations to be someone or do something. Just her and the city and the fucking Greggs sausage roll.

And — Elton John?

“Oh, I love that song!”

A string of pink lights adorns the top of the rikshaw as it turns the corner, loudly blasting Can you feel the love tonight. The driver catches sight of them and Roy can’t suppress the annoyed groan slipping its way out.

“Good evening can I interest you lovebirds in a — “

“No, fuck off!”

Elton’s voice gets quieter and quieter as the startled driver rides his rickshaw further away and back into the inky black of the night.

Lovebirds, he called them lovebirds. Thought the two of them were anything other than acquaintances. People pushed together by circumstances and coincidence. As if anything between them could ever happen. She’s already getting under his skin, sticks around his thoughts, and ghosts through his head without him ever giving her permission to do so. She’s all he can think about lately and yes he knows it sounds repetitive but god it’s so damn irritating.

“I would’ve liked to hear the rest of the song.”

Roy scoffs “Figures.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

He turns to face her and, for the first time since he’s stepped out of the building and into this tiny bubble they’re sharing for just this fleeting moment, he looks at her. Really looks at her. With her sparkly dress and her lips painted a deep red like candy apples. With flakes of the pastry sticking to her lower lip and his jacket wrapped around her looking almost like this is where it’s always belonged.

He’s never had a heart attack before, he wonders if this is what it feels like.

“You play the worst fucking music when you’re working in the physio room.”

“Uh — are you insulting my taste in music? Are you really out here insulting the legend, sir Elton John? The Lion King soundtrack is a religious experience, okay?”

He hates that he can clearly tell by the glimmer of mischief in her eyes that she is joking more than anything. He shouldn’t be able to tell. Mere acquaintances can’t do shit like that.

“No, in fact, it’s a pretty fucking great movie. It came out when my sister was a kid though and I had to watch that shit a million times. You know how traumatizing it is having to watch Mufasa die over and over again?“

She grants him a look of understanding and shrugs her shoulders in agreement “At least it’s not Frozen, eh? “

“I have a 6-year-old niece.”

Roy Kent has a lot of things in his life that he takes pride in. His career and talent, all the hard work he put in to be where he is today. He takes pride in being a good brother and a loving uncle and maybe even a good friend and leader.

Making her let out a snort as she laughs at his Frozen-induced misery? That might be his proudest achievement to date.

“I’m glad you find my suffering amusing.”

“What can I say? You’re a funny guy, Roy Kent. So funny in fact that I almost bid on you at the auction.”

He wants to let out the most guttural scream in the existence of mankind. She can’t just go ahead and say stuff like that. Not when he is trying so hard to keep their interactions at the most basic level. Not when she already haunts his dreams. She’s irritating, Roy. Not charming or lovable or — beautiful. Or maybe she is all those things but most of all she’s annoying and infuriating and — oh he’s so fucked.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Oh, well I’m just a measly sports physician. Don’t get me wrong, it's good money but I don’t really earn quite enough to throw thousands of pounds at a man to have him spend time with me.”

He’d do it for free. Hate every second of it, naturally. But he’d do it for free.

Can’t tell her that though. Never. So once again he just grunts.

A silver Toyota pulls up to the curb, effectively bursting their little bubble of comfort as the driver leans down to look out the window. “You (Y/N) ?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

She makes a motion to slip out of the jacket, only for Roy to step in and hold it closed, keeping it in place, wrapped around her, and shielding her from the cold.

“Keep it,” his voice comes out all rough and husky. More than usual. It’s probably the jasmine scent getting to him, clouding his every sense. “Don’t want you to freeze on the way home. Just give it back another time.”

“Oh, okay. Well, thanks again. Goodnight, Roy.”

He opens the door for her and closes it softly once she’s settled into the car. Roy tries so hard to be a good man, a good person but in that moment all he wants to do is be a little bit worse, just a little bit. Just enough to rip the door open again, pull her out of the seat and kiss her stupid.

Instead, he wishes her a good night and sends her off before stepping out into the night himself. There is a smile playing on his lips all the way home and it’s so fucking irritating.

I was in the neighborhood & It’s okay I couldn’t sleep anyway

The door leading to her apartment is bright red and there is a little white sign and the picture of a dog with huge fucking ears that reminds him of Gizmo from the Gremlins. It says “Beware of the dog — might cuddle you to death.”

It’s cheesy as hell. He loves it.

He’s not quite sure how he ended up here. Losing is never fun. Feeling yourself slowly becoming unable to do the things you love, the things you were good at, and actively playing a part in your team losing? That’s absolutely mortifying.

Of all the places he could’ve gone, all the people he could’ve seen — he ends up in front of her door. Red and shiny like her lips that night.

It’s almost 1am and all things considered, this is a really dumb idea. She’s probably asleep and waking her up would be fucking rude. He should just go and forget this ever happened instead of knocking on her door in the middle of the night. That’s what the rational part of his brain tells him at least.

Roy was never really good at listening to the rational part of his brain.

Tiny barks, no doubt belonging to the dog on the sign, echo through the hallway before the door swings open just enough for (Y/N) to look at him with tired eyes.

“Roy?”

“I was in the neighborhood I — I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.”

It’s not a lie, really. He was in the neighborhood. He walked here specifically to knock on her door and see her.

“It’s okay, I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

Now that is most definitely a lie. Her eyes are sleepy, her hair disheveled and he can just about make out the pillow print on her cheek.

“Do you want to come in?”

He does. He shouldn’t but he really does.

The apartment is small but it feels cozy rather than cramped. The walls are lined with pictures, little reminders of happy moments and people she loves.

There’s one of him too, well him and Isaac and Sam and then her at the end of the line. He thinks it was taken at some get-together after a particularly hard-fought win. He likes to know that there’s a picture of him on her wall even if his appearance in the photo is probably more incidental than anything.

“I didn’t know you had a dog.”

It’s a stupid thing to say, there is so much he doesn’t know about her. He doesn’t know where she was born or if she has siblings or if she always wanted to be a physiotherapist. But there are things he does know, like the specific way she likes her coffee and that she always gets a snickerdoodle cookie from the bakery down the road from the stadium, every Wednesday without fail. How she scrunches up her nose when she’s frustrated and that she snorts when something makes her laugh really hard.

“His name is Yoda. He’s a papillon and also my best friend.”

“Don’t let Sam hear.”

“Oh, he’s also Sam’s best friend.”

Yoda, it’s a fitting name. He does look like a Yoda.

“So what brings you here, Roy? At uh — “ she glances towards her open kitchen and the digital clock on the microwave “ 1:04 am?”

Should’ve gotten his story straight before he came here. What is he supposed to say? I felt like proper shit and wanted to see your smile? Surely not.

So he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.

“Came to get my jacket back.”

Absolute dumbass.

“Your jacket? Oh uh. sure. Let me go get it.”

She regards him with confusion and curiosity, he can tell she’s not really buying his story.

“Or, if you aren’t in a rush, I was about to pop in a movie and pig out on some popcorn? Do you want to join me?”

This might be the first time he lets her see the smile she continues to put on his face.

“Fuck yeah, what are we watching?”

“Vernon is such a little bitch. Antagonizing fucking teenagers? What a loser."

“Right?,” (Y/N) agrees, taking a sip from her glass of rose before stuffing another handful of buttery popcorn into her mouth. “Bender needed someone to care, not just another adult yelling at him. "Such a loser. Hey, now that I think about it, you do give me John Bender vibes. All broody and mysterious.”

Roy just scoffs in response.

Her eyes fall onto his empty glass of wine resting on the little square table in front of the couch.

“You want a top-up?”

“No, I’m good. I should probably get going.”

He hates to admit it, it’s something he’ll take to the grave with him, but there’s something about rosé that gets to him. It makes him tipsy immediately. He doesn’t want to go home but the longer he stays the more he opens himself up to saying something stupid and fucking this up — whatever this is.

“Did you walk here?”

“Mmh.”

“Oh well I can’t in good conscience let you walk home, half a bottle of rosé in your system and dealing with all the emotions brought on by the breakfast club. Couldn’t live with myself if you got snatched up and I was the last person to see you alive”

Throwing his own words back at him should be infuriating, annoying. It isn’t. It’s lovely. She’s lovely.

“You can stay if you want. My couch isn’t the biggest but I think you’ll fit just fine.”

The sincerity in her eyes hits him like a dart to the chest. It’s something so simple as offering him her couch for the night but it means everything for a man who has grown so awfully accustomed to loneliness.

“If I stay, will you make me breakfast?”

“Fuck no”

Laughter fills the tiny living room and it takes him a second to realize it’s his own.

“I might be up for a Starbucks run tomorrow morning before work though.”

“Sounds great. I love peppermint lattes, those are fucking delicious.”

She grants him another smile as she gathers their glasses and the empty bottle and brings them to the kitchen before returning with a fluffy pink blanket for him. He thinks that smile could’ve just about killed him, thinks he might just die right here on her couch and it wouldn’t be so bad.

“Well goodnight, then. Hope you don’t mind Yoda”

The dog is curled up on Roy’s chest like a little bagel. It’s gonna be annoying later, he’s sure but hell will freeze over before he disturbs the little pup.

“That’s fine.”

“He snores, just thought you should know.”

“Makes two of us then, hope he doesn’t mind.”

Another laugh. Another tiny heart attack.

She’s by the door, just about to turn off the light and plunge the room into darkness, when she hesitates for a moment.

“Hey Roy,”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry you guys lost today and I — I can see you struggling but I just wanted you to know that it was not your fault. I need you to know that.”

The entire way here, he tried to make himself rationalize that. Make himself understand that losing is part of the game and that he did his best. But knowing your best might not be good enough anymore is a hard fucking pill to swallow.

Hearing her say that it’s not his fault, it takes the weight off for a moment. Not all the way, never all the way. But a tiny little bit and that’s a whole lot already.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Night, Roy.”

He falls asleep with the taste of rosé on his tongue, the snoring of a little dog in his ears, and the sight of her on his mind, all sleepy eyes and messy hair. She never looked better.

It looks good on you & I like your laugh

He’s positively buzzing with euphoria. They won, something no one thought was possible. They won and he scored the winning goal.

Spirits are high as the team and their friends have taken over the Karaoke place. Shots and drinks flow with no regard to the tab they’re raking up or the headache that awaits each of them tomorrow. None of that matters right now. Tonight is made for celebrating. Consequences don’t exist right here and now.

Rebecca burns the house down with her rendition of let it go and after a short intermission by Dani, singing a Spanish song that neither of them managed to join in with their non-existent knowledge of the language, the opening chords to another familiar song fill the room.

“Well, thanks for making us all look like amateurs, Rebecca,” (Y/N) says into the microphone as she takes her place on stage. Her words are laced with happiness and laughter and Roy thinks she must have him under some spell because he can’t manage to not smile when she’s around. It’s a bit ridiculous if he’s being honest.

“I will most definitely not be able to live up to that performance but I thought we could stay in the Disney bubble for a moment.”

Her eyes meet his across the room and when she winks at him it takes everything in him not to get up on stage and devour her. Fucking irritating.

“I know you all know this song so sing along if you feel like it. This one’s for you, John Bender.”

He knows it’s one of the cheesiest love songs ever, written for a movie about a cartoon lion. But sitting on the couch at the karaoke place surrounded by his team, having just scored a winning goal and listening to the girl that haunts his dreams sing straight to him and only him, he thinks Elton has a point. He can feel the love tonight. It’s in the smiles of his friends, and the voices coming together all chaotic and off-key singing along to the song. And there is love in her eyes, clear as day and undeniable.

“And can you feel the love tonight How it's laid to rest? It's enough to make kings and vagabonds Believe the very best”

The night is coming to an end, everyone’s found their way to their respective rooms — or whoever’s room they felt like staying at. Roy’s pretty sure he saw Rebecca’s friend enter Ted’s room but that’s none of his fucking business, is it?

“Okay, you can’t laugh though!” (Y/N)’s voice calls out from the bathroom and drifts towards the main part of the room where Roy is perched on the chair by the window.

This isn’t his room and really he knows he shouldn’t be here. But being alone right now sounded like proper torture. He wasn’t ready to leave this magical night behind yet. Not like this. Not when she sang to him and he had nothing to give her in return. So when she invited him to her room to watch yet another John Hughes movie on Netflix, he couldn’t do anything but accept.

“Are you sleeping in one of those weird fluffy onesies?”

“No, god no.”

“Then I don’t know why I’d laugh at you.”

When she steps into the room, he can see why she’d think he’d laugh at her choice of sleepwear. The white shirt looks not so white anymore, there is a hole at the bottom and a mysterious red stain by the collar. It doesn’t make him laugh though. It makes him fucking hard. Because that’s his name on the back of it. That’s a 2014 world cup Roy Kent England Jersey.

“Fuck me.”

He doesn't mean to let it slip but alcohol and euphoria have made his lips go loose.

“I knoooow, it’s embarrassing. I meant to bring something else but it’s just so comfortable.”

“It looks good on you.”

It does. He thought the green dress was it. Then he thought she looked absolutely adorable, all sleepy and natural. But this? This is the look that pushes him over the edge. This is everything.

“Yeah?” she asks and twirls around the room, not unlike Phoebe whenever Roy gifts her yet another new princess dress. He’s just such a sucker, can never say no when she asks him for something. “You just wait and see, I’ll steal your job soon enough.”

That makes him erupt into laughter yet again, he doesn’t think he’s laughed quite as much lately as when he is with her.

“I’ve seen you attempt to play before. I’m not worried.”

“I like your laugh,” she says, all warm eyes and wistful smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Something takes over, an invisible force pulling him to his feet and making him walk up to her. She’s leaning against the wall as he places one hand on her hip, the other on the wall next to her head. This shouldn’t be happening, he knows this. It’s dumb to believe that whatever tension there is between them can lead to anything. That’s just not in the cards for him no matter how much he wishes for it.

Girls like her don’t fall for boys like him. They never did, they never will.

“Roy Kent, you won today.”

Winning the game is the last thing on his mind right now. How could he ever think about winning right this moment when her hand is softly resting on his cheek and her nose gently nuzzling against his and the —

A knock on the door cuts through the moment making Roy let go and take a step back.

“Fucks sake.”

In his defense, Sam looks apologetic as he stands in front of the door, signature smile on his face. Good-natured and lovable. If this was any other moment Roy wouldn’t have been able to be mad at him. But this is that moment and he is a little pissed right now.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to disturb, I was just wondering if you had another phone charger. I can’t find mine and I know you always bring extra so — “

“Uh, yeah let me go get it real quick.” (Y/N) says and turns back towards the room.

Roy’s eyes connect with hers for a split second and it’s like a bucket of ice straight over his head. They both know whatever magical spell they had been under, it’s broken and gone and all that’s left now is a big old pile of what-ifs.

“It’s getting late, I should leave. Goodnight, (Y/N). Night, Sam.”

“We’ll reschedule, yeah?”

Tiny smile on his lips he nods his head in agreement.

He gets a soft “goodnight” in return and though he hates to admit it, the touch of her hand against his cheek lingers there all the way to his room and even further into his dreams.

Call me when you get home & We’ll figure it out

Rain pounds against the roof and windows like tiny bullets. A rainstorm has Richmond tight in its clutches so cruel and unforgiving the team can’t even train right now.

And yet for some reason Roy still finds himself in the workout room, trying to push himself to do just 5 more minutes on the treadmill. Just 5 more.

Actually, it’s not entirely true. He knows why he’s here. Part of him hopes that if he just pushes himself enough, he can overcome the pain in his leg and all the issues it causes. That if he just tries harder, he can go back to being the talented overachiever he used to be.

But it hurts. A sharp stabbing pain rushes through his knee forcing him to step off the treadmill. He hates this. In fact, it’s his worst fucking nightmare. Football is all he’s ever been good at, he can’t lose that. It’s his entire life.

If he’s not Roy the footballer, who is he? Some bloke named Roy with a dead career and no one to come home to? Now doesn’t that sound delightful?

"Roy?"

“Jesus, fuck!”

There she goes again giving him a heart attack, only this time it’s not because she’s being cute or anything.

“Oh shit, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The smile on her face falls as she catches sight of him holding onto his knee. He can almost see the thoughts running through her head. She knows about his knee. If anyone knows how bad it is, it’s her. She told him not to overdo it. Said that would only make it worse.

He knows she has pity on him and he hates it. It’s irritating coming from everyone. Irritating and misplaced. Why would they pity him? It’s his own damn fault for not being good enough anymore.

But coming from her? That’s even worse. No one wants a guy that’s getting too old to do his job properly. That’s falling apart and breaking.

— Not that he wants her or anything. Oh, Roy, who are you trying to fool here? Of course, he wants her.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine.”

She raises her eyebrow in disbelief, in that bratty way that drives him crazy.

“I said I’m fine, (Y/N).”

“I hear what you’re saying,” she says and comes to stand next to him, crossing her arms in defiance. “but I can also see the way you’re holding your knee and that face you’re making. You’re in pain, love.”

Love. He doesn’t hate how it sounds when she calls him that. Irritating for sure but also — sweet.

“I’ll be fine! What are you even doing here?”

He hasn’t seen a lot of her ever since the night in Liverpool and while part of him was quite glad about it because he honestly wasn’t sure whether or not to bring up whatever had or had not happened between them, another part of him had missed her smile desperately.

“I work here.”

“You’re a fucking smartass, aren’t you.”

“I try.”

Fuck, even when she’s being deliberately difficult she manages to pull a smirk from him.

“I had some paperwork to do but by the time I arrived here, the storm was so bad that now I have to wait for it to stop before I can drive home. I hate driving when it rains.”

“Oh you should,” Roy returns, nodding his head in agreement “You’re a horrible driver in the best of weather.”

She responds with a scandalized gasp and a hand placed on her heart in mock upset “I am not a horrible driver! Take that back.”

“It took you 18 minutes to park your car the other day. I know because I saw it, we all saw it. Boys took the time and had bets going. Jamie won 20 quid.”

“Wha — okay I’ll have to have a word with the guys, you’re ridiculous. But don’t think you can change the topic on me, Mister. Is your knee getting worse?”

Yes, and he fucking hates it. Can’t even say the words out loud because that feels like admitting defeat. And that’s a terrifying thing to do.

Fortunately for him, he doesn’t have to say anything. A look is all it takes and she nods her head in understanding.

“That’s okay, Roy. We’ll figure something out.”

We will figure something out. We as in him and her. Since pretty much the beginning of his professional career, Roy had admirers. People who would latch onto everything he did or said and hold him to abnormally high standards he would never be able to reach. They adored him but they also didn’t know him. She knows him even when he tries so hard to keep her at arm's length. She knows him and is still in his corner, still has his back. The only people who ever did that were his family.

It’s an unusual feeling but he really really likes it. Even if it’s a little terrifying.

“What if — “ he takes a deep breath, trying to form the words that weigh so heavy on his heart “What if I can’t go back to how it used to be? What if this is the end for me?”

“Do you want me to be honest or nice?”

“Lay it on me then.”

“Things might not get back to how they used to be and there’s not really much you can do about it other than learn to accept it and then figure out a new place for yourself.”

“Football is all I have.”

“That’s not true but even if it was there is so much more about it than just the players.”

She’s right but it’s still a bitter pill to swallow.

“…and with that smile of yours, you can always go into modeling. I’m sure they’re always looking for new faces in the toothpaste commercial business.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“See! There’s that smile I was talking about.”

“You’re fucking insufferable sometimes.”

She is. He adores it.

“Oh, but you like it — right?”

“What?”

“You do — like it? Like me?”

It’s the first time he’s seen her act insecure. She’s always so bubbly and happy and smiling, he hates that he put any doubt in her mind that he does anything but cherish her.

“You irritate me, woman. Drive me up the fucking wall, every day.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No! Don’t say sorry. I love it. I think you’re a fucking knockout. Best thing since sliced bread.”

He does, he truly does and it feels nice to say it out loud for once. To admit it to her and to himself. It feels nice when she comes closer and when she rests her arms around his neck and it feels fucking phenomenal when her nose brushes past his and he can almost feel her lips on his.

Almost.

That’s until her phone beeps and she pulls away altogether.

“Ah shit, I gotta go.”

“Fuck sake. The universe hates me.”

“The universe doesn’t hate you, Roy Kent. We just have bad timing. ”

He’s not convinced.

“What about the storm?”

“I think the rain stopped, listen.”

Roy hears nothing. Where raindrops were drumming against the roof and windows just minutes ago, there is silence. He’s never wished for a rainstorm to persist more than he does at that moment.

“Well, call me when you get home at least. Roads will still be wet.”

“Aw, Roy, are you worried about me?”

His lips say no, but his eyes and his smile tell a different story.

You can stay & Is this okay? Can I hold your hand?

This is it. This is the end. He’s seen this one coming for a while now but he tried so hard. He trained and pushed and it was all for nothing. They’re losing and his career as an active footballer is over for good.

The door to the locker room opens slowly, almost cautiously and he’s just about to yell and whoever dares to disturb him, when his head snaps up and he sees (Y/N) standing in the doorway.

“What are you doing here? Game is still going, you’re the fucking Physio.”

“Good thing there’s more than one of us. I have to make sure all my players are okay.”

I’m not okay. That’s what he wants to say. He wants to scream it from the rooftops. He’s not okay. He’s not sure he ever will be.

“Get out, (Y/N).”

She can’t see him like this. Defeated. Broken. Old.

Instead of listening to him, she sits down beside him and holds an ice pack to his injured knee.

“As a physio, I need to tell you that what you did was really stupid.”

He knows it was. It was a calculated risk he was willing to take and if nothing else, he kept Jamie from scoring and the fans appreciated it. That was all that mattered at that moment.

“But as a friend and Richmond fan, I think it was brilliant. I just wish you didn’t hurt yourself in the process.”

Silence settles over them and (Y/N) is just about to get back up when he grabs onto her arm and pulls her back down. “You can stay.”

“Okay.”

And for a long while they just sit. No words, no expectations. Just them.

Softly, almost like a whisper, he feels her touch against his hand, sliding her fingers between his.

“Is this okay? Can I hold your hand?”

It’s not okay. It’s phenomenal. It’s everything he could’ve wished for in that moment but never would’ve had the nerve to ask. It’s a promise that he isn’t alone in this. There is someone there holding his hand through the darkest of times.

A green light guiding him to safe shores.

“Don’t you fucking dare let go.”

Stay there, I’m coming to get you & I can't wait for tomorrow

Turns out, retiring from a successful football career does not mean you suddenly have a lot of free time. In fact, Roy doesn’t think he’s ever been this busy doing shit he doesn’t like.

Everyone wants an interview, a statement, a “what happens next”. It’s a lot of paperwork and contracts and shit he doesn’t care about. The point is, he’s fucking busy. So busy he hasn’t seen (Y/N) in quite a few days. Nothing has really changed since their moment in the locker room but somehow everything feels different.

It’s exactly 4:12 am when his phone rings. He almost doesn’t want to answer but calls at 4am usually mean bad news and he’d never forgive himself if something happened to his sister or Phoebe or (Y/N) or even (and he will deny this if you ask him about it) Jamie just because he couldn’t be bothered to answer his phone.

“Hello?”

“Royoooo.”

Oh. Oh!

A smirk pulls at his lips.

“(Y/N)?”

“Sorry —” she says and stops for a giggle “Sorry to wake you. I just — I was out with the girls and I didn’t plan on drinking but I did. They had a buy one get one free deal. It would be stupid to say no, right?”

“Right.”

"So, yeah."

“Go on. Didn’t just call me to tell me about the drinks, did you.”

“Oh, no. I just wanted to talk to you while I wait for my Uber. I miss you.”

“Do you?”

“So much!” her words are slow and slightly slurred. “Every fucking day. Like — god, I just wanna see your stupid handsome face.”

“It’s handsome, innit?”

“You have no idea! I just want to kiss you, so badly.”

Kiss him. She wants to kiss him. Sure, it almost happened twice but it’s still different hearing her outright say it. But then again, she’s drunk and by the time she wakes up tomorrow, she probably won’t remember half of what she’s saying right now.

“Where are you?”

“It’s that weird little bar around the corner from Sam’s restaurant. The one with the green door.”

“Go on and cancel that Uber.”

“Then how am I going to get home?”

“Stay there, I’m coming to get you.”

Roy isn’t quite certain whether or not he considers himself a good person. He tries to be, it’s a conscious effort each and every day. He tries to be a good person and a good person doesn’t let the woman he’s absolutely head over heels for wait outside in the cold dark night by herself. No matter how infuriating she is.

“Okay,” she agrees, a giggle slipping past her lips “Thank you. Can’t wait to see you.”

And though Roy had other plans for his weekend than picking up a drunk girl at 4 in the morning, he also can’t wait to see her.

“…and like it was mostly sugar, right? So I thought why not have another one. Turns out it was mostly vodka.”

“Who could’ve guessed.”

She’s cuddled up on his couch in one of his shirts looking into his eyes and retelling her night in vivid detail. Her story is slurred and a bit all over the place, blame it on her tipsy brain. It takes her forever to get to the point and when she does, the point doesn’t even make all that much sense. It doesn’t matter, he’d listen to her ramble forever if it meant he got to spend time with her wearing his shirt sitting on his couch — looking into his eyes.

“You’re going to feel like shit tomorrow.”

“I know,” she shrugs then scoots closer to him and wraps her arms around his “but you’re here so it’s only half as bad really.”

“If I’m feeling generous I’ll even make you breakfast.”

“You really are the dream, Roy Kent.”

She’s clawing at his chest, prying open his ribcage and burying herself where his heart used to be. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

“You have to stop saying shit like that. People are gonna think you’re in love with me or something.”

She pulls away slightly and looks up at him with those big eyes of hers before resting one hand on his cheek.

“Roy, I am. I thought you knew.”

He had a hunch, of course. Fostered a spark of hope in his heart that there could be something between them after all. But once you grow accustomed to loneliness it’s a little hard to let yourself believe.

“Do I need to show you to believe me?”

She pulls his face closer to hers and for a millisecond he wants to let go, but when he smells the alcohol on her breath he pulls back. This isn’t right.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re off your tits. I’m not kissing you like this. Our first kiss is not going to be some inebriated tongue-wagging. You hear me? I’m a hopeless fucking romantic, that kiss is gonna be special. I’m gonna kiss you stupid.”

She bites her lips to suppress the smile from taking over.

“So if I were to ask again tomorrow, you’d say yes?”

“Mh.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

At that she snuggles further into his arms and rests her head against his shoulder, a content smile on her face as she closes her eyes.

“Oh, I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

He doesn’t admit it, but neither can he.

I think you're beautiful & I’ll meet you halfway

“Roy?”

Her voice echoes through his house as the eggs sizzle on the stove.

“Why is there a small child looking at me?”

“Phoebe, stop staring at her you little creep!”

“She’s so pretty.”

She has a point.

10 minutes later the girls join him in the kitchen, walking in hand in hand and big smiles on their faces. Seeing them get along makes his heart grow approximately 12 sizes. That being said, the two of them teaming up against him sounds like trouble to him. Good trouble though. Trouble he loves to deal with.

“Good morning, Roy.”

“Morning. Pheebs, go sit down, breakfast is almost ready.”

“Okay, Uncle Roy.”

Once she’s out of the immediate earshot he turns back towards (Y/N). Though she tried her best to conceal it, yesterday's makeup is still smudged around her eyes and her hair is a downright mess. She’s wearing his shirt though, standing barefoot in his kitchen after bonding with his niece.

Sometimes life is fucking sweet.

“Don’t look at me like that, I know I look like a mess.”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“You’re delusional.”

“That’s not what you said last night. Think you called me the fucking dream if I recall correctly. Said you were in love with me.”

(Y/N) leans against the kitchen island, her hands flat against the countertop and her eyes trained on Roy.

“I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

Roy mirrors her position, arms resting on the kitchen island across from her. God, she really is so beautiful.

“Remember what you said?”

“Do you?”

“You promised me something, Roy.”

Roy Kent doesn’t make promises lightly. He thinks there’s hardly anything quite as heartbreaking and awful as breaking a promise. He prides himself in keeping all the ones he’s made.

It’s only right to keep this one too.

“Phoebe,” he calls out to the little girl without moving his eyes away from (Y/N) for even a second “Blindfold!”

The 6-year-old slaps her tiny hands over her eyes obeying her uncle's orders with no hesitation and no questions asked. He’s proud of her. Silly little idiot.

Leaning across the counter, his lips almost reach (Y/N)’s. She’s so close. So close.

Only —

“Fuck, I can’t reach. My knee.”

There’s so much love in her eyes as she regards him. It almost knocks him out.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll meet you halfway,” She says and gets up on her tiptoes.

Across the counter their lips meet. There are no fireworks or butterflies or an angel choir singing. But there is her tasting of toothpaste and smelling his deodorant. Her and the feeling of belonging. Of comfort and domesticity and love. He loves this woman, undeniably and irrevocably.

It’s a great kiss. Fucking mindblowing. There is no need for rom-com-induced fairytale fantasies when you have the real thing and it is so much better than any story could ever be.

“Hey Roy,” she whispers against his lips as they come up for air.

“Hmm?”

“The eggs are burning.”

“Fuck!”

“You owe me a pound, Uncle Roy!”

Irritating! Both of them.

They’re his whole entire heart.

I love you & I love you

“I love you.”

It’s a normal fucking Tuesday when she says it for the first time. Really says it. Using those exact words. There’s nothing special about that day but with those words, she puts magic into it. The way she puts magic into his life every single day.

“Fuck you!”

“Sorry, what?”

She’s laughing. She’s always laughing and smiling that goddamn smile that makes him go all soft inside. Beautiful, lovely, knockout that she is.

“I said fuck you. I’ve been thinking about how to tell you all fucking week and here you go and say it first. You’re infuriating.”

Softly she rolls over so she’s resting on his chest, fingers softly tracing patterns into his skin.

“You’ve said it a million times before, Roy.”

“I love you, (Y/N).”

Can’t hurt to say it again.

“I know. I knew. I always knew. From the moment you gave me your jacket.”

Of course, she knew. She took one look at him and it was like she got a view straight into his soul. Straight into his heart with all the vices and virtues, all his triumphs and defeats. All the good and the bad.

How fucking irritating. He loves her for it.

#roy kent x reader #roy kent x female reader #roy kent x f!reader #roy kent x fem!reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent imagine #roy kent imagines #ted lasso tv show fanfiction #inbloomwriting

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toomuchracket · 2 months

Text

promises to keep (flatmate!matty x reader fluff)

matty made a promise to do something for you before you dated, and this is what happens when an opportunity to fulfil it arises once you're together - kinda sorta a sequel to this, but can be read standalone. day 4 of valentine's week. enjoy <3

“matthew? have you got a minute?”

shit. the full name.

gritting his teeth in a grimace, matty puts down his guitar and follows your voice. “coming now, sweetheart.”

“much appreciated,” comes your tetchy reply. matty winces, wracking his brain in an attempt to figure out why you're not best pleased with him right now, but he comes up short.

he gets it as soon as he enters the kitchen, though; the french press in your hand - and the grumpiness on your pretty, sleepy face - reminds him of everything he needs to know. it also almost manages to stop matty from missing the fact you’re wearing his glassjaw hoodie, a pair of fluffy socks, and very little else. almost. “ah, fuck.”

“indeed,” you say, putting the cafetiere on the counter and frowning (quite adorably, to be honest) at your boyfriend. “actually, that was my exact phrasing when i came in here for a coffee, only to find that the grounds from the last cup hadn't been emptied.”

“m'sorry, baby,” matty moves to hug you.

you, however, have other ideas, and put your arm out to keep him back. “nope! no chance! absolutely not! you can't boyfriend your way out of this one, healy, this is a flatmate issue.”

matty sighs, but he can't exactly argue - the rules on emptying the coffee grounds have been finite since you moved in, the only way to ensure two caffeine-dependent people could cohabit in relative peace. “you're right. i really am sorry, darlin - let me clean it out now, and i'll make you a coffee, yeah?”

“thank you,” your face softens, into the cheeky smirk that never fails to make matty's heart feel funny. “would you make me a bit of toast, too, while you're at it?”

“it'll cost you a kiss, that one.”

“s'pose i could fork out for that,” you wrap your arms around matty's neck, hands sliding home into his hair to pull him down for a kiss. he dips you as you make out, like the two of you are lovers in an old hollywood romance film, and you giggle against his lips as he gently pulls you back to stand. “that was fun!”

“i was kinda scared i'd drop you, i won't lie.”

you laugh, ruffling matty's hair before taking a seat at the breakfast bar. “i would've dragged you with me if you had.”

“i'd expect nothing less,” he smiles, rinsing the coffee grounds from the press and holding it up to the light to check its cleanliness, before popping two slices of bread in the toaster. “what d'you want on your toast, by the way, babe?”

“hmm,” you tilt your head. “do we still have nutella?”

matty squints as he wracks his brain, then rummages around in one of the cupboards. “aha!” he emerges triumphant, almost-empty jar in hand. “enough for toast. but i'll need to get more before the weekend.”

“why? you don't even like it that much.”

“well, what else am i going to put on your valentine’s breakfast pancakes?”

you beam. “am i getting breakfast in bed?”

“course you are,” matty runs over to kiss your nose. “you're getting spoiled, sweetheart.”

“so are you. i was gonna keep it a surprise, but…” you pause dramatically. “i bought new lingerie.”

he drops the butter knife in shock. it hits the countertop with a clatter, and his head almost follows suit. “fuck,” he croaks out. “what colour?”

“dark red. your favourite,” you smile. “i look really sexy in it.”

“i bet you do, baby,” matty sighs happily, pouring coffee into your favourite mug. “can't wait to get into that hotel room and take it off you.��

“me either. and thank you for organising all that, my love. m’excited,” you smile, leaning up to kiss matty as he brings your breakfast over. “thank you for this, too. love you.”

“love you,” he kisses you again. “bring it to the living room? wanna cuddle.”

you nod, picking up your mug and plate and following matty through. he settles on the sofa first, arranging the blankets draped over it and taking your plate from you as you snuggle into his arms. with a kiss to your head, he flicks the tv on, and the two of you sit in contented silence for a little while - with the exception of you crunching your toast - watching animal park.

matty nudges you when the camera zooms in on a pair of lions curled up together on a rock. “us.”

“really?” you snort, putting your plate on the coffee table. “you think we're lions?”

“yeah. you're the brains behind everything, and i just chill out and have really cool hair.”

you laugh, bringing his hand to your lips and kissing it. “you're an idiot, healy.”

“but i'm your idiot. and i'm right,” matty looks down at you, grinning. “and you've got a little bit of nutella on your lip. here, let me,” he leans down and kisses it away. “there.”

“thanks, lover,” you stretch, snuggling back into your boyfriend with a sigh. “the lions are boring me a bit now, though. what else is on?”

“hmm, let's see,” matty clicks through channels, watching each for a couple of seconds before continuing to search - only when a familiar shot of a girl curled up in a chair reading the bell jar appears does he stop. “oh! babe, look! 10 things!”

“aww, i love this film,” you curl up even further into him, playing with the neck of his t-shirt. “remember when we watched this together in my room?”

matty's voice is quiet when he answers, but you can hear him smile. “thought about it every day since we did, darlin.”

he grins bashfully when you turn to look at him, open-mouthed. you smile, too, so sweetly that it hurts his heart. “same. it was all i ever wanted, to be so intimate like that with you,” you reach up to stroke his face. “best feeling in the world, knowing i get to do it for real now.”

all matty can do is softly hold your face and kiss you, until he runs out of breath and has to pull away from your chocolate-flavoured lips; even then, though, he keeps his hands on your jaw, and murmurs against your lips. “my dream girl. m'so in love with you.”

“i love you so much,” you whisper. “d'you wanna keep watching this, then?”

“course. rite of passage, innit?” your boyfriend grins, tugging you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around you. you turn to kiss him softly once more, then rest your head against his chest and look at the screen.

the time passes a lot like it did the last time you and matty did this, but instead of mutual pining and an undercurrent of sadness knowing you weren't really together, it's just completely… lovely. you press kisses to each other's heads and hands and lips, and just bask uninterrupted in the love evident between the two of you in the room. aside from the kisses, you don't even move.

that is, until the scene matty knows is your favourite begins. he grins, shifting you slightly further up on his lap so he can look at you properly, and begins to sing into your ear along with heath ledger onscreen. “you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you…”

your cheeks lift into a smile, and matty can practically feel the heat radiating off them. but still, you keep your eyes on the tv, the only proper acknowledgement of matty's singing being the way you softly squeeze his thigh.

“... you'd be like heaven to touch, i wanna hold you so much,” he continues, resting his head against yours and smiling when you giggle, then taking your hand. “at long last love has arrived, and i thank god i'm alive,” he moves his hand up to gently turn your head, singing the last bit to your adorably flustered smiling face. “you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you.”

you laugh joyously when he stops singing - the best sound matty thinks he's ever heard - and pull him into a kiss. “you're serenading me?!”

“you asked me to, first time we watched this,” matty smiles warmly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “and i promised you i would.”

“i did?” your brow furrows so cutely. “you did?”

“just as you fell asleep. therefore,” he grins, taking a deep breath before literally belting. “i love you, baby, and if it's quite alright i need you, baby, to warm the lonely nights. i love you, baby - trust in me when i say…”

you beam, wrapping your arms around his neck and swaying as you join in the song. “oh, pretty baby, don’t bring me down, i pray,” the two of you giggle as you sing, and matty's never been so in love in his life. “oh, pretty baby, now that i've found you, stay, and let me love you, baby, let me love you.”

as your voices fade out, matty leans forward and kisses you chastely; he beams and caresses your cheek when he pulls back. “thank you for letting me keep my promise. and for singing with me - that was lovely. should get you on the next album.”

“no, i think i'm content with just singing to you at home,” you smile, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. “thank you for doing that for me. always found it really romantic, that scene and that song. but you know how i am about pda, so what you just did was really perfect,” you kiss him again. “i honestly can't remember you making that promise, though.”

“i think you had already fallen asleep on me, darlin,” matty giggles. “but i wanted to keep it, anyway. and speaking of promises to keep,” his face goes a bit more serious, but still tender, as he picks up your left hand and kisses your ring finger - your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening and welling up. “gonna marry you someday. i mean it.”

you nod, a teary smile on your beautiful face, and pull him into a hug. “i can't wait.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #flatmate!matty #valentine75 #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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eternalwritess · 2 months

Text

I may know someone - Platonic!Alastor & tech demon!reader + Vox x tech demon!reader

Summary: Vox decides to confront whoever decided to fuck up with system. Alastor has a proposition for you that he wants you to take...

He couldn't reverse the damage. He knew that by now. He's tried a multitude of things only to get shocked many times. He's even tried screaming at the monitor. Which caused Velvette to scream back at him even louder.

But he had footage he had footage of a demon flicking something causing his computers to work to her liking. It was impressive he would've even offered her a deal. Would've being the key word, they still fucked up his system.

But now he had their face, he could find them. Oh and find them he would.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙

You're not an idiot.

At least you like to consider the fact that you're not. You're powerful, but maybe you should've thought this last one through. After the whole almost getting caught thing Alastor has been visiting you a lot more frequently. A lot more cheerful too.

He's been all up in your space more than usual, and thats saying something. Touching your stuff even though he doesn't even like tech all that much. He only tolerates yours because it just makes old tech better, but not too modern.

He tapped on one of your phones and looked over to you. "Y/n dear, I've been thinking," He hummed his fingers tapping along the glass. "And really you should consider it," He smiled and walked over to you placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Have you ever considered becoming an overlord?"

You scoffed and looked over to him. "Didn't we talk about this last time? Y'know," you flicked of bit of light over to a breaker causing it to crackle before the room lit up. "Before you almost got me killed?"

Alastor laughed and patted your head. "Oh past is past dear. You need to think of the now!"

You couldn't help but scoff. "That's an awfully ironic line coming from you," You looked at his staff and then back to him.

"Well I am thinking of the now, and radio is always better! But enough about that. You should really consider it. Y'know you technically are one already. Don't you own a few souls?" He titled his head with his eyes becoming dials. Slowly. Ticking. Away.

He sat his head to its regular position and smiled.\

"A few I have like one of two, that doesn't count,"

"One or two wouldn't be the word I'd use to describe such my dear," he leaned on your shoulder and grinned. "Besides you got this whole side of the pentagram under your claws," he tapped the desk with an ever growing grin.

"I don't have enough power-"

"Pardon my interruption darling but I do believe that is what you would call... baloney," He grabbed your shoulders and now spun you around to face him. "You should really think about this offer y/n after all I'm just trying to help you get your name up there-"

You stepped back and looked at him. "I don't want my name up there-"

"Once again-, pardon, but I do believe that it would be good. I've even spoken to Rosie about such,"

You paused for a moment before shaking your head. You couldn't do this, why would he want you to become an overlord? "Why?" you asked. "Why do you want this? Is it to show someone up?"

Alastor laughed before giving you a pat. "Oh you know me too well, but no,"

You scoffed. This was a petty rivalry, you could feel it. "Rosie doesn't like it when you lie," You said titling your head towards him. "Is this about that Vox guy?" You asked. You hoped not but knowing him... you didn't want to get invovled.

Alastor sighed keeping the smile. "You know me too well," he said, this time slightly strained.

"Al I can't just show up-"

"Sure you can! Don't worry my dear, Rosie and I will help you every step of the way," He turned around and dusted off his shoulders. "I ought to get going though darling, consider it!" He added as he walked out the door.

You paused sitting down on your chair. You were utterly fucked.

Vox groaned looking around. Usually he didn't parade around like such but this was a special case. He just didn't know why it had to be in this part of the pentagram. It was were practically all of the insane people resided in Hell. He watched as demons shouted and as one ate its own hand giggling and laughing.

It was disgusting. He walked around further till he came to a small building that was surprisingly in good shape. He grinned, this was it.

He walked right up to the door watching as the electricity around him responded to his presence, zipping around and disappearing. It was odd to see something reacting to his presence the way the electricity was. He stepped back for a moment as it flickered across his feet and under the door. He sighed looking at the building.

Just. One. Knock.

You tapped your feet on the ground before stopping. Consider it, what was there to consider? Truly. You weren't an overlord although in some cases Alastor would be more than happy to call you one. You owned souls, sure, but you didn't even have half the numbers of some of the people on there.

Yet here you were wondering what it all meant. You knew Alastor and you know what he's like. He adores the spotlight almost as much as he adores radio, having a friend like you up there just because he suggested it would paint the spotlight on you both. You have to admit, he's clever but he's rash in such a thought. The blacklash, it would show that he's powerful yes, but at what cost?

But he's thought this through, he doesn't make rash decisions, he wants to show Vox up, and he needs a statement. The fight with the angels show'd him losing, if anyone saw that he would need to show that he was still in power. Since he needs to do that who better to bring up on his own accord than you?

You were already powerful, you were a tech demon for crying out loud, and you were his friend. You already messed with Vox and his tech. You already showed that you're a force. You'd be the perfect subject to bring up. To show that he wasn't just old news.

You grit your teeth and ran your hand through your hair. If you said no? It wouldn't go well, Alastor already offered you power last time, he could also take away some of your power if he wanted. He could make the place you lived worse, although you doubted he would it. It didn't mean it wasn't exactly off the table.

Rosie wanted you up there too, she's been there for a while, she's been in hell for a while. You taking up this offer could be good, but it could be bad. You just showing up, that would piss people off, put a target on your back. Alastor and Rosie would help you but you doubted that they would care too much if you got into a scuffle with another overlord. Alastor did just prove that and-

Knock.

You paused for a moment looking at the door. Everyone on this side knew that you were closed by now, it was dark out. You were practically out. You stood up. It's probably just a new sinner. Is what you told yourself before sitting back down. Your hand pressing against your forehead in annoyance.

"We're closed," We're was a strong word, there's no one here but you after all. The words came out a little stronger than you would've liked but fuck it, this is hell.

Another knock. You set your hand down and sighed looking at the electricity around you crinkle. "We're closed you deaf or something fucker?" You turned around back to the door and sighed. Whoever this was better leave or else you're gonna take out some anger on them.

The door opened. You grit your teeth and stood up turning around. "Are you deaf-" Your words fell short of your mouth as you stared at the person in front of you. Fuck. You were utterly fucked.

Vox. Vox, the CEO of Voxtech was at your door. The man who you just fucked over with Alastor. This couldn't be a coincidence, or a friendly stop by for that matter.

You stood there for probably half a second before regaining composer. You straightened your back and sighed mentally this time. Alastor taught you three things after all.

Always keep a smile.

You smiled at him and although it was strained you could tell it pissed him off, maybe not the best for you but it did assure that you were in control that being whatever meager control you had over a real overlord.

"Hello, Vox from Voxtech I'm sure you've heard of me!" Vox smiled sticking out his hand for you to shake but you continued to smile and dipped your head instead.

"Y/n," You said in reply.

"Ah, well thats great to know. After all I finally get to put a name to the face I've been seeing all around my building lately," You tried to ignore the hollow tv like sound that came out of his mouth with each word. You. Were. Fucked.

You nodded picking at your nails your eyes glancing down at them. You are not looking him in the eyes. "Yes well I was doing a favor for an old friend of mine-"

"Alastor, correct?" He asked he grabbed your hand and forced you closer causing you to look up at him.

You stepped back and rubbed your hand with a glare painted onto his screen. "Yes, Alastor, we've known each other for a while now. Why? Jealous?" You chuckled and tilted your head feeling everything around you respond to where you were.

Vox rolled his eyes and grabbed your again this time, harsher. "Listen here, I don't know who you think you are but let me remind you something," You felt his hands pierce through your skin when you tried to move back. "You aren't anything," You watched as the blue electricity circled around you.

You looked around the room in half panic careful not to drop your smile although you doubt you were smiling much now, it hurt. Your hand hurt like he was fucking dissecting it.

2. Remind them where they are.

You paused for a moment and looked up laughing. With your other hand you flicked your wrist and smiled at him. The room responded to your without a second of hesitation. The lights flickered and the cables and chords lifted up in response wrapping around Vox's legs and pulling him down.

His hand scratched yours tearing it up badly, but it could be fixed. You needed to deal with this now. Vox hissed attempting to get up and free himself of the thick cables that wrapped around his hands. You rubbed your hand unconsciously and looked at him.

"Listen here," You mocked titling your head. You snapped your fingers and felt the lights burn hotter than before and onto Vox watching him panic over the sudden overload. "You aren't in your fancy studio anymore sweetheart," You felt the energy around your creeping into your skin making yourself bigger and more of a shadow than before.

"You're in my house," You grabbed his collar and bent down pressing him close to you. "Now get out," You demanded.

3. Always make them leave on your accord.

You shoved him back and watched as the cables tossed him out of the door and slammed it shut in his face. It might've hit him actually, well that wasn't your problem anymore now was it.

You groaned sitting down in your chair. Your head head like hell, worse than it actually, funny. You rubbed your head and sighed feeling the dull thump slowly trace itself around your body before fading. The energy around you was gone now. You wondered if Alastor ever felt like this after going 'full demon' or whatever the hell this was called. Then you remembered, of course he wouldn't. He wouldn't need to use all of his power, you on the other hand did.

You muttered a curse under your lips. You were a target now. You had no other choice but to accept Alastor's offer, he might help you. He would. He would help you before but now that you'd be more official partners with him he'd be more than glad to do so.

You slowly felt the world fade around you as you leaned on your desk and groaned.

Everything hurt.

Vox scrambled back up to his feet in shock. He felt weak. You took energy from him, how the fuck did you do that? He bared his teeth for a moment before stopping and dusting off his suit. If anyone saw that, he'd never hear the end of it.

You defeated him, you took control. It took a while for him to notice that he was weaker, but he was. He stood outside of your door for a few moments glad that he couldn't speak, he couldn't even think right.

That type of power was breathtaking in a way. He shook his head and walked off not wanting to risk another confrontation, he didn't know if he'd survive another.

Previous <---... part 3 coming soon

Taglist: @animedancer14 @roboticsuccubus83 @fandom-queen37 @belletifeshyl @randomuser-89 @belos-simp69 @callmechito @maliciousmace @montis-posts @yukimy @creampuff-bunny @blue-shark-named-blahaj @twismare @sirenetheblogger @hotvillianapologist @saturnhas82moons

#hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #ITS PLATONIC #alastor and reader #thats not a tag :(#vox x reader #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #vox hazbin hotel #x reader #hazbin #part 3 coming soon #this might be about 5 parts honestly idk

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jaylaxies · 2 years

Text

CAN'T YOU SEE ME?

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader (ft. mingyu from svt)

GENRE/CW: smut, the reader is three years older than heeseung, protected sex, slight cunnilingus and fingering, childhood friends to lovers, angst, fluff, mentions of cheating, mentions of nicknames, mentions of food/eating, mentions of jake, i'm sorry mingyu </3 lmk if i missed something!

WC: 11k words

SYNOPSIS: lee heeseung first met you when he was four. to him, you were the epitome of an angel, the one who was selflessly available for the bambi eyed boy. at the age of ten, he learned that he liked you, wanting you to be his babysitter and no one else. he knew what he felt for you was love by the time you were in your third year of college, him being determined to confess soon, also entering the college as a freshman. but will he be able to win your heart with the entry of your newfound boyfriend?

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni.

A/N: hihi, sweethearts <33 this one is for all the hee noonas out there! it turned out longer than intended aaa i really hope you enjoy reading it! all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated, it keeps me motivated! :3 iloveyou guys, happy reading~ <33

As a seven-year-old, going to school was the most fascinating part of your day, even more so when you got to observe and take in the scenery outside, your curious mind trying to record the weather patterns and asking your teacher about why it changed as per the course of time.

It was a given at how proud your parents were to see your zeal to understand and learn whatever intrigued your mind, their wide smiles while you asked them questions was enough to prove that. Albeit, they did find themselves speechless at certain times, not having the answer with them.

Although, you were genuinely confused to see a big truck parked near the premises of your house as your school bus dropped you back home. The surroundings were scattered with different boxes of all sizes scattered around the front lawn of your neighbouring house, a few strangers carrying those boxes inside.

Your eyes skimmed to your mother, who was gracefully laughing at something another woman had said, you had never seen her before though. At that very moment, you decided you liked that woman for making your mom smile carelessly and you greeted her by bowing down, introducing yourself with a smile that reached your eyes.

“Aren't you a little angel?” the lady smiled at you, taking your small hands and shaking them.

While most adults didn't bother with kids, you were more than ecstatic to have met someone who was keen to know about your hobbies, your mother watching fondly as you replied to her questions with enthusiasm.

Your lips soon turned into a frown as you saw a little figure standing behind Lee, and you gasped when he let out a whine to get her attention, not expecting any noise of such sort. Your mother cooed gently, striking up a conversation with Mrs. Lee again as you observed the boy in front of you.

You weren't sure what intrigued you about him so much. Maybe it was the fact that he had pretty big eyes and a small face with puffed-up cheeks. Adding to that, he held a bambie plushie in his hands — surprisingly resembling his face.

“Won't you introduce yourself, sweetie?” Mrs. Lee asked the little boy, who finally broke eye contact with you to nod at his mother with a gulp.

With his hands outstretched, he spoke up in a sweet voice, “I am Lee Heeseung and I am four.”

At that very instant, the wind blew softly, messing his hair up, which he patted hurriedly before stretching his hand again. His curious eyes fixated on you once more. He looked like a porcelain doll to you with his delicate frame.

You gently held his hand, telling him your name, which he repeated after you in an experimental manner, getting the pronunciation right on the second time with a nod, causing you to clap in delight at the little ball of sunshine.

“Mom look! He looks like Bambi!” you squealed and he looked around, confused at your sudden comment and his lip quivered, thinking that you called him the name of an animal in a funny manner.

Soon, his big eyes were filled with tears as he held on to his mother's leg, complaining that you called him a Bambi.

Never in your life had you been in a situation like this, leaving you clueless as the little boy sniffled in front of you, his mother bending down to wipe his cheeks, which were stained red with his crying.

“I'm sorry—” you softly fiddled with your fingers, feeling guilty for making him cry.

“Oh no, sweetheart! You were just complimenting his eyes, right?” his mother spoke up and you nodded. She gave you a reassuring smile and you noticed how her eyes looked exactly like Heeseung's.

She turned towards the crying boy again, “Did you hear that, Heeseung? She called your eyes pretty! Won't you say thank you to her?”

“She d—didn't make fun of me?” he softly inquired, clutching his plushie tighter.

“Of course not! She said that you have beautiful eyes!” her words made him turn to you.

“I—Thank you,” he softly whispered, tugging on your dress which made you bend down with caution.

He softly pressed his lips on your cheek in a feather-light kiss.

His ministrations made you giggle, and he learned that the situation was back to okay, so he followed your actions and showed you his adorable smile, eyelashes still wet from his crying session earlier.

That concluded your first meeting with Lee Heeseung, an angelic boy who was too sensitive around new people, however, he opened up to you in record time and wished to show you all his toys. Your name was his favourite word to say out loud and he sweetly waited for you to come back from school each day in hopes of playing with you.

To say you were his favourite person to play with would be an understatement, he went as far as giving you the Bambi plushie when he saw your face sporting a sad frown once you had come back from school.

Little Heeseung adored your existence.

You saw him grow up from a four-year-old to a ten-year-old. He was taller and talked a lot more, he didn't carry his plushies around anymore and most importantly, he loved causing trouble.

He had always gotten what he had asked for, kept like a spoiled Bambi prince. And the prince wanted no one else but you to babysit him. Mr and Mrs Lee were both busy in their own fields, business trips being a common venture for them.

However, leaving Heeseung alone was never an option for them. Taking him along wasn't one either with his constant demands and the need for attention, that wasn't something his parents could afford to take care of in the middle of their meetings. Neither was he too keen on the idea of having a complete stranger as his babysitter.

Which left them with his last resort — you.

Ten-year-old Heeseung was the epitome of a good boy when it concerned you, and that made your job of babysitting myriads easier, especially when you got a good amount of cash for it, which you tucked away in your savings safely.

“He's a spawn of satan!” the other babysitter had said, the one who gave up trying to feed him.

“He is?” you asked slowly, “But he's always been so quiet and understanding.”

Which was partially correct since he was on his best behaviour around you.

The babysitter just shook her head, “He threatened to not eat at first and when he got hungry, he took the matter into his own hands and proceeded to open the fridge. In conclusion, it was a disaster.” the sixteen-year-old explained and you wondered if Heeseung was capable of doing so.

Nevertheless, you nodded with a smile and took house keys from her, making your way to his house with your backpack to do homework in the meantime. You didn't understand what the babysitter had said, for, Heeseung happily sat at the dining table and ate his food without a spot of mess around him.

“Hey, Bambi!” you happily spoke up and he smiled when he saw you at his place, patting his hair once you ruffled it before sitting with him.

He told you all about his school stories and secrets, you heard it all attentively and helped him with his homework whilst you were doing your own alongside.

“You know Jake?” he asked, and you nodded with the memory of him mentioning his classmate.

“He likes a girl! Isn't that gross?” he scrunched his nose while solving the math problem in front of him.

“Why is that gross?” you inquired, a small smile on your face as you heard him talk.

“Is it not?” he questioned, tilting his head.

His family loved him, they really did. They were busy individuals still and hence, Heeseung was usually left alone, which is also why he didn't like meeting new people since either. He was curious about everything and somehow believed that you'll be the answer to all his questions.

“It is cute, don't you think? If you like someone then you share all your happiness and sadness with them! It's a happy feeling!” that's all you could tell the ten-year-old, not having faced such a situation before but that's what you had gathered from movies and books to date.

“Oh, it's fine if Jake is happy then,” he muttered, eliciting a laugh out of you.

“Can we have ice cream before mom comes back? Please?” his eyes shone and you pinched his cheek.

You were never the one to go out of your way and break the rules, especially when his mom had strict rules for him, including the one which stated that he will get his share of ice cream only once a week.

His big eyes pleaded in silence and you gave up, it was almost like taking care of your younger sibling as you didn't have any. You swore his eyes lit up at the seraphic treat, jumping with joy when he tasted it for the first time, kissing your knuckles right after as a gesture to say thank you.

Heeseung was perfectly fine to be around which further made you question if the babysitter just wanted a way to get an off for the day. He held your hand the entire walk, it was habitual since he always held his mom's hand, he finished his ice cream while explaining how to play the newest video game his parents got him last week, stating it was the coolest thing ever.

His mother was elated to see him silently reading his course book, sitting alongside you in harmony. She called you her lifesaver and you only shook your head, embarrassed at her usual sense of politeness as she gave you a little box of cookies which she picked up while coming back home, saying good night to you but was stopped.

Heeseung ran towards the door and hugged your taller frame, whining about you having to leave just when he was going to show you his video game and you promised that you'll give him your undivided attention the next time you come over.

“You can stay here for the night! Your house is next to ours anyways!” he proposed.

“I'll be back, yeah?” you sadly said, not having it in you to reject his offer, however, you did have to go back. His whine was loud as you closed the door behind him, chuckling at his usual antics.

That was the day Lee Heeseung had confirmed that you made him happy.

Even his diary was aware of the fact that at the ripe or age of fifteen, both your families had made a plan to go for a day out, the location being an amusement park. It was hard for him to not see you each day since you did spend the majority of your childhood with him. Being eighteen, you were devoted to entrances and college hunting, trying to stay close to your family by opting for the university nearby.

He had been so used to being near you, for, you were always there for him when his parents weren't, as a babysitter, as a friend, and as someone who made him happy.

You always accompanied him while walking back home from school, he treated you with dinners when you were asked to keep a watch on him. Nothing ever changed, he was still that kid who craved your attention.

Seeing you dressed up all pretty was enough to capture his attention for the day, following you around for every ride and activity you had wanted to do for the day as your parents sat down at a restaurant after a few rides themselves, leaving you alone with him.

“So,” he spoke up, voice deeper with the onset of puberty.

You had to look up at how tall he had gotten and you still remember the four-year-old Hee who cried in front of you, the fond memory tugging your lips up.

“So?” you repeated, getting your boba from the stall nearby and getting him his favourite ice cream, who you had memorized by now.

“College soon, huh?

Your eyes gleam and you nod, “I can't wait!”

“Why? Don't you like it here?” he asked with a tinge of hope that you'll stay.

You bit your lip, taking a sip of your boba before laughing softly, “I'm not going anywhere, I got into the HYBE University—”

You weren't even finished with your confession yet and were tackled into a hug, almost making your drink fall off with how close Heeseung held you, “Fuck, I thought you were going to leave!” he spoke up and you smacked his arm.

“Language!”

His actions might have been perceived as goofy for you. However, deep down, he was scared to lose you, the three-year age gap only added to his list of concerns. He knew that whatever he felt for you was something only restricted to you, a giddy feeling he didn't feel around anyone else but you.

An additional aspect that he had been afraid of would be your perception of him. He wondered if you had always ever seen him as a sibling figure, he had wished for it to be something more. Unlike the stupid protagonists in the romance novels — that's what he called them, he was aware of the feelings he harboured for you.

You ruffled his hair, an action which had become your habit now, his hugs always gave you a sense of comfort, something that you happily accepted.

“You look happy,” you pointed it out.

“Well, I wouldn't exactly be happy if my best friend leaves me alone here,” he explained, calling you a friend was the farthest he could go, but he would never refer to you as a sister, ever.

You raised your brow at that statement, “Best friend? What happened to Jake?” you teased lowly.

“You know what I mean!” he rolled his eyes, smiling at the laugh that bloomed out of you. “What are you looking forward to then?” his inquiry made you think for a second, sitting down on the closest bench before you proceed to answer.

“It's going to be a wholly new experience, a refreshing setting maybe? And I'm looking forward to new friendships, and a chance at more, I guess?” you shyly spoke up.

“A boyfriend you mean?” he deadpanned.

He wasn't very keen on knowing your desires anymore, you were never the one to talk about your love life, catching him off guard with your sudden revelation. You craned your head towards him, not noticing the switch in his tone despite the irritation being clear on his face.

“If I get the chance to have one then, yeah?” you smiled and he returned it, but it didn't reach his eyes.

His mood was sour till you got back home, the further plans included your dinner together. It wasn't silent, your parents had a lot to talk about the current political issues, which left you to stay mum and consume your food quietly. Heeseung didn't utter a word throughout the meal, he was deep in thought about something and you furrowed your brows when you saw him mindlessly playing with food.

“A penny for your thoughts?” you broke his session of overthinking ways to not let you get into a relationship, he didn't have any ideas still.

With the conclusion of dinner, your parents had left to sit in the living room, continuing with their discussions from before, leaving you with Heeseung to clear up the table.

“It's nothing.” He dismissed you in a beat.

“Are you sure?” you slowly asked, he was never the one to keep stuff to himself.

You weren't ready for his next action, he wasn't sure how he got enough courage to do so either.

His smirk was cocky as he bent down to your height, his face in close proximity to yours.

“Aw, are you worried about me?” his works were filled with sarcasm.

“Of course! I care for you.” your words were genuine, fingers wrapping around his arm while your eyes bored into his deep brown ones, heart beating faster at the propinquity.

His strong persona faltered at your sincerity, his body automatically engulfing you in a warm hug where he held you with utmost softness. You held him for as long as it took for him to feel okay again without any question, that being the reason why that particular day was counted as one of his favourite days — because your words paired with the look in your eyes told him that deep inside, maybe, just maybe, you held at least a tinge of love for him as he did for you.

Spending time with you was a luxury for him, considering your ever-so-busy schedule, since you had started college. Nevertheless, making time for him was something you were bound to do, the usual movie nights helping you take your mind off the undulated stress you had been harbouring.

One thing Heeseung learned while growing up was that he was more creatively inclined than anything else, studies didn't intrigue him, it was something he was obliged to do, which was great since the guitar was his newfound obsession. Another activity he started to impress you but fell in love with it gradually.

Heeseung took care of you the entirety of your first year in university. Whether it consisted of taking you out for your favourite food or simply accompanying you to the park for a breather, he was present with you at all times.

“You must be cold,” he whispered, fog leaving his mouth as you both wandered around the streets on a winter day.

You turned your head to get a clear sight of him, hair messy and eyes filled with worry, you couldn't believe he was seventeen already, cursing time for passing by this quickly. His nose had turned red with the chilly wind blowing outside and—

“Hey, are you okay?” he snapped you out of your daydream. Blinking twice, you looked down, embarrassed to realize that you were staring at him unconsciously.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” your smile wasn't convincing when you were, indeed, freezing.

Soon, you were wrapped in the warmth of his coat, his scent invading your senses, but you couldn't let him freeze out there.

Instead, you held his hand while dragging him towards the nearest convenience store. He followed you wordlessly, eyes focused on your figure covered with his coat and the sight of his hands in yours, even the cold couldn't stop how warm his heart felt with this setting, even more so when you asked him to sit down, getting his favourite ramen noodles ready and passing it to him.

“You know me so well,” he fondly stated, eyeing the drink you got for him alongside.

“Of course I do! I've been your babysitter for so long!” you spoke up, teasing him, knowing well enough how he doesn't like to be babied anymore.

“God, I'm not a baby anymore!”

The shy blush on the apple of his cheeks said otherwise, which you pinched and he swore even the minute gesture gave him butterflies, especially when you laughed at his flustered state, genuinely content while spending time with him.

“How's college?” he asked.

In all honesty, he wanted to know if you were romantically interested in someone at the college, with your other experiences too, of course.

You fiddled with your fingers for a second, biting your lip before turning to answer, “The usual, assignments are a bother. But yeah! We found this cute cafe nearby and the food was to die for! I'll take you there someday.”

His heartbeat fastened as you initiated the plan to take him out someday. He was definitely getting ahead of himself but he didn't mind it a bit. You could pay him a sliver of attention and that would be enough to send him into a state of frenzy.

And over the span of a year, he noticed you being happier each time you met, which only fuelled his desire to do more, anything to make your happiness tenfold.

Eventually, your daily meet-ups were reduced to weekly and soon, even less. You last properly spent time together on his eighteenth birthday, mostly reminiscing about everything you've done together, all his childhood albums had your pictures, at least one if not more. He was overjoyed to hear that you took a day off just to spend his special day with him, and you knew that you'd do it again in a heartbeat.

But, since then, he'd been indulging himself in studies, “I need to get into a good college as well,” he had stated. You admired how hard he worked. You frowned when he kept ignoring your pleas to know what college he had selected. It only made you wonder if the said boy wanted to travel overseas and study abroad, he would get into a good college with how diligently he worked throughout his last year at school.

However, it didn't stay on your mind for long when you finally caught the attention of the guy who you had been eyeing the first year. Kim Mingyu, the heartthrob, girls (and guys) swooned over him, and you were one of them, you couldn't blame them because Kim Mingyu was an eye candy with a smile that could make anyone crane their necks just to have a glimpse of him.

You were no exception. The expected part in this ordeal would be that he noticed you, and not just in a friendly advancing manner. It was last year when he first learned your name, attention on you when you wore your little skirt to a party where your friend dragged you along. You hated every bit of it, feeling as if it was a mistake that you even agreed to this, until Mingyu came along.

It was a pleasant night, you both sat on the balcony and talked for a few hours. Soon, he found himself around you more, until he finally kissed you very recently, approaching you with a proposal to be his girlfriend. As a twenty-one-year-old who had never been kissed, it felt like something straight out of a fairytale. And he kept you occupied for a good time, not letting intrusive thoughts bother you further.

“So you applied for the same college as her?” Jake asked with an amused smirk.

“Yeah, it's a great college and I had to work my ass off for it, but yes,” Heeseung spoke up, acting nonchalant.

It was a surprise for you, the sole reason why he didn't tell you before even when you asked him with the most adorable pout he had ever seen.

“Dude, you are so whipped!” he laughed at his best friend.

“What do you mean?” Heeseung furrowed his brows, however, his pink ear tips did nothing to hide his feelings.

“What I mean is that, you've been in love with her since forever,” he stated proudly, “And you are not good at hiding it, mate.”

“Since when do you know?” he sighed, hiding his blushing face behind his palm.

“Since you came to me telling me that it's not gross to like a girl, because your babysitter said so.”

Heeseung freely laughed at that. But Jake was right, he had always admired you ever since he was a child, it only bloomed and he only realized that he was in love with you at the age of sixteen.

He swore you grew prettier each time he saw you, as if he was in a trance and he couldn't stop his eyes from fixating on your lips when you talked. He wanted to kiss you.

“Will you tell her you got in?” Jake asked.

“I—yeah, I'm going to her place right after this to show her my acceptance letter,” he smiled softly, knowing that you'd jump and engulf him in a hug right after he breaks the news to you.

Although, what he didn't expect to see was you opening the door with your lipstick smudged and breathing rigged, “Hey, Hee! Did you want something?” you sweetly asked.

A deep voice resounded from inside before Heeseung even got the chance to reply, “Baby, who's there?”

Heeseung felt his heart breaking as a stranger came into view, opening the door fully to reveal a tall guy right behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as you softly giggled.

“Mingyu, meet Heeseung!” you introduced him and he extended his arm out, Hee couldn't help but notice how his muscles flexed with each movement, veins protruding from his arm.

“Hee, this is my boyfriend.” your words were shy, however, you felt something unsettling in the air.

He gulped while introducing himself with a shakey breath, it was like it whole world came crumbling down with how fondly you looked at the guy, he was everything Heeseung wasn't. Naturally, he couldn't stop the tears brimming up his eyes.

“I—I'll come back some o—other time, I'm sorry if I disturbed you—” he swiftly said, leaving your place and sprinting towards his home.

“Heeseung—” you called out his name, concerned and ready to follow him but were stopped.

“Let the kid go, you can meet him later,” Mingyu whispered, kissing your neck again.

You nodded half-heartedly, noticing an envelope on the ground which you picked up before closing the door.

Heeseung knew you weren't his, but that didn't stop him from loving you all this time, he was so sure that it could have worked out after his constant efforts, he couldn't fathom you had a boyfriend and you didn't even bother telling him, did he mean so little to you?

“Fuck,” he cursed the timing, angry tears streaming down his cheeks, his knees giving up as he struggled to hold himself up, curling into a ball and crying into his arms.

“Why can't you see me, y/n?” he whispered, yearning.

Your mind was in a state of anguish after Mingyu left. Opening the letter was the first thing you did in his absence, slightly tearing up at the acceptance letter which Heeseung left on the ground. That's why he was working so hard. That's why he had been keeping his college from you. He wanted to surprise you.

He had come to you with that very motive, and you successfully drove him away.

“Oh Hee,” you softly whispered, making your way to his place, the wind slightly cold as it hit your bare arms which caused you to shiver. You rang the doorbell, hugging yourself while waiting.

You didn't get any reply.

With a sigh, you rang the bell again in hopes of getting an answer, your hand clutching the letter tighter.

After a few minutes of silence, you felt like giving up would be the best option for the night, wondering if he went to bed already, or maybe he went out to meet a friend.

Heeseung stood by his window, watching your drooped figure walking back to your place, eyes teary and he refrained himself to call out your name — he needed time to let this settle in.

You weren't his.

Another doorbell snapped him out of his trance. It wasn't you, but some delivery guy. Heeseung was sure that he had not ordered anything, he took the parcel with a questioning gaze. The delivery man was kind enough to tell him that the order was prepaid and he disappeared soon after handing it over.

The delicious scent of his favourite dish filled his nostrils as soon as he opened up the package, paired with his favourite drink. The sight made him choke up a sob.

No one knew about this except for you.

“Why do you give me hope, y/n?” he whispered to himself, chewing the food softly, cheeks red with how much he had cried in the past few hours.

Nevertheless, he was thankful for your gesture, at least for the night.

He knew that letting his feelings go would be the best idea. However, the idea of leaving you in the hands of a complete stranger, the one he didn't trust a bit was something he couldn't do.

With his thoughts running wild and his head bursting from the headache, he drifted off to the dreamland with the image of you in his mind.

Lee Heeseung was good at maintaining his distance, staying over at Jake's place to prevent running into you at times. You hadn't talked to him ever since that night, and it was killing you inside. You tried to tell Mingyu about this and he brushed it off saying how he's going through puberty right now.

With that being said, you never mentioned Heeseung in front of him, the sentence pissed you off but you stayed mum, not wanting to start an argument.

You did see Heeseung once, calling out his name. His speed was faster though, he got into the car and drove away even before you fully came out in the verandah.

That made you upset beyond words. You were clueless, unable to understand the sudden change in his behaviour, a frown plastered on your face for the rest of the day.

The only place he couldn't avoid you at was the college. It had been three days since Heeseung's semester had started and you failed to see him in all those days. Day four was definitely on your side as you watched the tall boy giggling and talking to some girl, who you assumed was also a fresher.

It seemed like you were the only one he was ignoring. With a gulp and shake of your head, you strided towards him, holding your tote bag tighter before you tapped on his shoulder.

He turned around, his smile dropping in an instant, turning into a frown as he told the girl to go on and that he'll join her in the classroom. You flinched unconsciously when he raised his brows at you.

“Uhm you have a girlfriend already?” you cringed at your choice of words. Way to start the conversation.

He rolled his eyes, taking a step back but you were quick to hold on to his arm, “I'm sorry, please just give me a second.”

You felt small under his gaze, he looked angry. Or disappointed. You weren't sure.

On the other hand, Heeseung was doing his best to not give in, his heart beating erratically when he saw you, your scent filling up his nose, which made him want to hold you.

“Congratulations for getting into the college, Hee! I knew you could do it.” you smiled softly.

“Ah, thanks.” his reply was short, so you proceeded to ask him what you had initially came to inquire.

“Why—” you stopped, taking in a shaky breath, “Why are you ignoring me? Did I do something wrong?”

He looked down, not being able to bear the look of hurt on your face. Thankfully, he got an excuse to escape.

“Oh look, your boyfriend is coming over,” he said, rolling his eyes and leaving.

Mingyu caught up to you soon, pecking your lips in an instant. Heeseung saw that, and what he felt was a lot worse than what he had expected.

He knew that Mingyu wasn't the one to be trusted. Heeseung was never the kind to judge someone on the basis of their looks. Mingyu was an exception — his fuckboy persona was too strong to ignore, and you were blinded by his charms. It was a hunch at first until he witnessed it with his own eyes.

Heeseung was leaving after his last class for the day, making his way towards the parking lot only to see Mingyu with a girl that wasn't you. They were close, too close and the faint sound of giggling made him see red. He sat down in the car, hitting the wheel.

“Can't you see, y/n? He's just gonna hurt you.” he hoped that somehow you could have seen him, heard him.

Going to Jake was the best option for him at given moment.

“Dude, you have to tell her,” he spoke softly, seeing his friend in distress.

“How? I can't even talk to her without wanting to kiss her, I feel like crying whenever I see her.” his voice came out strained.

“So you're gonna let that asshole hurt her?” Jake's question was blunt as he blinked impassively and he could only shake his head as a no.

He sat unmoving, letting his friend knock some sense into his brain, “Okay, I need a day or two to actually talk to her. I don't think she'll even want to talk to me after how I treated her today.”

“You have to be fast with your apology then. Quit being a kid and get your girl.”

Heeseung groaned, ear tips getting red at the mention of you being his girl, “Not mine—” he started and Jake raised his brows, “—yet.”

With a newfound motivation, he got back home. Not expecting anyone to be standing in front of his place, especially since his parents were out on their business trips, again.

All his confidence went down the drain when he squinted his eyes, getting out of his car to your shivering figure.

You went over to him as quick as you could muster, not giving him a chance to escape. This was too much, you had never felt this alone in your entirety of life. You tried to remind yourself that you had a boyfriend you can go to whenever you wish to seek comfort, but that wasn't the case either since Mingyu informed you about his plans with someone else.

It should have been fine, normal even. It wasn't the case — you cried, holding yourself in hopes of feeling better. You wished you had Heeseung with you then.

You hugged him, voice coming out muffled, “Please don't ignore me, I'll do everything to make it right again, Hee. Please—please just tell me what I did?” you looked at him.

His eyes widened slightly when he noticed that yours were slightly puffed up and red. He couldn't tell you, not right now.

“Why do you care?” he regretted his words as soon as they came out of his mouth. He wasn't supposed to say that.

“What do you mean?” you asked weakly.

“You have a boyfriend to go to,” he hated where this conversation was heading.

“Why do you keep bringing him up, what did he even do?” you were frustrated.

“You say you care about me and don't even bother telling me about getting a boyfriend? Trust me, y/n, he will hurt you.”

You stepped back, the feeling of anger coursing down your veins, “You don't even know him.”

“I know enough.” he replied in a beat, leaving you alone outside to cry.

His own tears slip out once he gets into the comfort of his home, confused about why he made it even harder for you both.

You tried to conceal your disappointment when Mingyu cancelled your date plans the very next day, you didn't bother asking him for a reason, simply saying that you understand. Which left you alone with your intrusive thoughts all over your mind.

You rushed to open the door as the doorbell rang, followed by the shout of your name and you knew it was Heeseung, you'd recognise his voice anywhere.

“Hee,” you whispered, seeing the boy in front of you, his hair was messed up and it clearly showed that he brushed them with just his fingers, eyes going down to his hands which held a small packet of your favourite chips.

“I'm—” he gulped, looking anywhere but at you, “—I've been an ass to you, I'm so fucking sorry, please don't be angry—” he stopped as soon as you threw your hands around his neck, pulling him in a hug, a year escaping your eye which you wiped without him noticing.

“How can I ever be mad at you?” your question made him melt, he felt safe in your arms, hold tightening as he whispered another sorry.

“Are we okay?” he asked cautiously, you hummed softly, his touch bringing a sense of comfort to your mind and body.

“Is everything alright?” you asked after a moment of silence as you both sat down on your bed.

“Y—yeah, I had some personal problems,” he confessed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” your hand itched to hold his.

“I think I'll be fine in a few days,” you nodded, understanding that he didn't wish to talk about it.

“But, what did you mean when you said that Mingyu will hurt me?” you asked, playing with your fingers.

He wasn't sure if it was the right time to tell you, especially when you looked so small and vulnerable in front of him. He called out your name slowly.

“I—I saw him with another girl yesterday.”

You looked at him with a confused face, “Was she tall with long hair?” you asked.

“Yeah, you know her?” he asked, eyes widening.

“She's a close friend of Mingyu. I was bothered at first, but Gyu assured me that it's nothing of that sort, just friendship,” you explained.

Heeseung rolled his eyes, flabbergasted at your native behaviour, at how easily you trusted your said boyfriend. The action luckily went unnoticed by you.

“Hey! You wanna go out?” he asked, switching the conversation and you let out a genuine laugh after god knows how long, his smile mirroring yours.

“Where do we go?” you asked, reaching to stroke his hair as a habit.

The answer, however, was just his smile.

It was as if you had enabled his sudden desire to explore every part of the city — which he had wanted to do from long, he just needed a bit of company for his rendezvous.

And you were here to provide him with just that. Heeseung wasn't accustomed to you having a boyfriend, but he did all he could to spend time with you, it was easy considering how Mingyu was always busy, cancelling the plans with you.

It wasn't a thing to be happy about, seeing the look on your face angered him, but that gave him the opportunity to be the one you'd spend your time with, and maybe, just maybe, you'd realize that he is the one you should be with and not some guy who doesn't bother taking out a few hours of his day to spend them with his girlfriend.

Safe to say, Heeseung never brought up Mingyu's name in front of you, not when he wanted your undivided attention all for himself.

He didn't do anything fancy at first, calling you over his place, letting you sit in between his legs while he went over the controls of the new game he had just purchased, teaching you how to play it. What he didn't know was that your heartbeat was just as fast as his own, the skin touching as he held your hand with the controller, and each move of his sent tingles down your spine.

You knew it wasn't normal for you to be feeling this way, ignorance was the key for you. However, you weren't sure how long it would work, especially when you got into a little argument with Mingyu.

“So you're on talking terms with the kid again?” he was amused, drinking his can of beer when you told him about what you've been up to, since he had been too busy this whole time.

“He's not a kid.” you huffed, “Where were you, it's been a week since I last saw you?” your voice held some sort of sadness.

“Honestly, I wanted to come over but Hoshi came over and dragged me to parties since he was in the town for a week. Sorry, baby.” he came closer, wrapping his arms around you and you couldn't help but notice that they didn't even give you a sliver of comfort that Heeseung provided you with just his existence.

You didn't let him kiss you, excusing yourself as your mom called you right on time, letting you know that she'll be extending her stay at your grandmother's place for a few more weeks. With that, you felt sulky for the whole day. It was crystal clear that Mingyu wasn't as invested in the relationship as he claimed he'd be when he first asked you out.

Walking home was easier while you contemplated your decisions, it was even effortless when you saw the bambi-eyed boy waiting for you outside, you knew you had to come to a conclusion soon.

So simply, you called Mingyu while waving at the smiling boy, he picked up the call after three rings. You inquired if he was sure about your date tomorrow, and he paused for a few seconds, seemingly to come up with an excuse.

“Y/n, I'm so sorry but can we shift it to—”

You scoffed, cutting the call short to save his excuses. Mingyu was never an option, it had always been someone else and you admit that you'd been too blind to see it. With a smile, you approached Hee, pulling him in a hug.

“You look happy,” he smiled, tucking your head under his chin.

“I am happy,” you truthfully admitted out loud and somehow, he could feel that your statement was related to him, making his heart flutter.

“Well, that's a great thing because we're going out,” he announced, ruffling your hair the exact way you did to him out of habit.

“Wait, right now? Where?” you asked, taking a look at your watch which displayed exact nine.

“You'll see, c'mon.” he took your hand as of it was the most natural thing to do, guiding you to his car and your eyes widened, you had never sat with him driving and he sensed your hesitance, pouting a bit, “What is that look for? I'm a great driver!” he huffed out.

“I trust you on that, Hee,” you spoke, your mind trying to comprehend how fast you both grew up, seeing Hee in the driver's seat was mesmerizing, his eyes fixated on the road, lip slightly bitten with concentration and fingers gripping the steering wheel in an attractive manner.

You hoped he didn't pay attention to your eyes practically analyzing his every movement, although he knew exactly what you were up to.

One thought gave rise to the other and soon, you were playing with your rings while looking outside mindlessly, thinking about the things you had to take care of in the upcoming days.

“Your thoughts are loud,” he spoke gently, hand coming down to rest on your thigh in a soft caress, almost like an urge to ask you what you had been thinking about.

“I—I'm sorry,” your face contorting into a wince mixed with a hint of awe.

Heeseung had been good at reading you ever since he was a child, he used to watch you come home from school while he was just four, waiting for you to come home. He'd simply get chocolates for you on the days you looked tired — getting them from his personal goodies stash which he shared with no one else but you.

He had been a darling from the very first day you met him.

“Let's get your mind off things,” he spoke up, parking the car and rushed to your side, opening the door for you.

He sure knew how to lift your spirits up, your lips curling up at the sight of a clean, empty beach wrapped around a blanket of the starry night sky. You walked forward, hair swaying with the light breeze, the rich scent of sand and water filling up your senses.

While you absorbed the view in front of you, Heeseung took this opportunity to get a good look at you. It was hard for him to look elsewhere when you were the prettiest person he had ever laid eyes on, he saw your smile and he but his own. It wasn't a foreign feeling for him, but it still scared him to know that you weren't his.

His train of thoughts broke as you held on to his wrist, dragging him closer to the water, feeling the sand on your feet with each step you took and before you knew it, he was chasing you while you ran with the softest giggle.

The old couple passing by the scene smiled fondly when Heeseung caught you in his arms, “Young love,” they spoke with shiny eyes, happy to be witnessing something so pure.

You weren't sad you got caught, in fact, you'll always wish for Heeseung to be the one who catches you.

To Heeseung, you were nothing less than a dream, a happy bundle of joy as you comfortably laid down next to him on the sand, courtesy of the picnic blanket he had kept in the back of his car.

“You see that?” he points at the star which shines the brightest in the sky.

You nod, turning your head to see his face right after.

“That's you.” his hand then shifted to point at the star right next to it, “And next to your star, that's me.”

He turned his head to see you already looking at him. His eyes held all the stars this universe had to offer, skin shining under the moonlight.

You wanted to kiss him.

Your eyes flicked back to see a shooting star, immediately sitting up at the sight.

“Hee! Look, a shooting star!” you cried in delight, never having seen it in real life.

“Quick! Make a wish.” you closed your eyes, joining your hands.

Heeseung followed your actions, making a wish of his own.

“What did you wish for, Bambi?” you asked him softly.

“Well, that's a secret,” he grinned sheepishly, “What did you wish for, y/n?”

You scoffed, “That's a secret.” he pouted again.

You continue to stare at him, eyebrows cocked up until he burst into giggles.

And just like that, the night ended with you both wishing to have each other.

You wasted no time in getting to Mingyu's place the next morning, it was the fastest you had ever driven, the talk being important this time.

“Mingyu, we need to talk.”

He said your name out loud, confusion lacing his voice.

“I—I don't think it's gonna work between us.” your words were clear.

“So you want to break up?” he rolled his eyes with an accusatory tone, continuing further, “Why? Finally running back to that kid?”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, you spend all your time with him. Does he fuck you that good?”

“Mingyu, you're crossing the line,” you warned him.

He laughed, “Why? Did I lie? You spend all your time with him anyways, and that kid never once called you noona, always acts like he's the one who's your boyfriend.”

“You're not my boyfriend anymore.” you stepped back, the place too suffocating for you.

“This is exactly why I cheated on you,” he admitted smugly, seeing you pause and stare at him with disbelief. You walked back, grabbing his collar.

“You know what? You're right, he's a million times better than you'll ever be.” your tone was low.

Before he could react, you punched him straight on the jaw, and a slight cut appeared on his cheek as he stumbled back with pain, “And you deserve that.”

You had never been this strongly disgusted with anyone else, tears welling up in your eyes as you sat down and drove back to your place, vision blurry and hands shaky.

It didn't feel real.

You'd admit that Mingyu wasn't that close to you, it was a fairy new relationship of three months but you'd never condone cheating. Adding to it, the false accusations regarding you and Heeseung, that was your breaking point, your blood boiling as you recalled the whole scene from a few minutes back.

With a teary face, you locked the car, getting into the comfort of your home at once, letting out a loud sob as you leaned against the door. You weren't sure if the reason for your crying was because you wasted your time on an asshole or the fact that you could have potentially spent that time with Heeseung instead.

He had warned you.

“Y/n! Open up!” the doorbell rang, Heeseung's voice following the sound.

Weakly standing up, you opened the door for him, his face falling at the sight of you. Red eyes and shaking figure. He wordlessly got in, closing the door and wrapping his arms around you, carrying you towards the couch as you sobbed into his shoulder, his hand caressing your back.

He sat down with you on his lap, “Hey, tell me what's wrong,” his worried voice made you frown, lip quivering as he put his finger under your chin, his Bambi eyes meeting yours.

“Hee—” you took a shaky breath, “I broke up with him.”

His eyes widened, a mini celebration happening inside him but that wasn't the thing that worried him, your crying state was something he had never witnessed before, especially when you were gasping for air so much.

“Shh, it's okay. I came as soon as I saw you from the window. Would you tell me what happened, angel?” the nickname would have made you smile had the situation been different.

“I went to his place, I couldn't be with him anymore, n—not when I liked someone else.” your words made him wonder if you were talking about him, that statement got his hopes up.

“And then he accused me of cheating. It would have been fine, but then he dragged you into this mess and admitted that he cheated just because he fucking thought that I did it,” you ranted, angry tears leaving your eyes.

Heeseung tightened his grip on your waist, “He what?” his voice was awfully low, giving you shivers.

His eyes weren't the usual soft ones, you could see how he was holding back a lot of words but you managed to hear a few faint sentences saying, “Fuck, I'll kill that asshole.”

You held on to him tighter, grabbing his attention, “He's the most stupid man to have ever let go of you I swear,” he whispered, kissing your temple, “Baby,” he made you look at him, your heart fluttering now that you had stopped crying, “You're safe here, I won't let anyone hurt you, yeah?” you nodded slowly, his words wrapping you in a protective blanket of comfort, the kind that only Lee Heeseung could provide.

He didn't leave your side for the whole day, ordered your favourite food and made sure you ate well, you noticed how he was a lot more affectionate, kissing your cheek, similar to how he used to do as kids. You felt shy around him.

The only thing that kept bugging the said boy was that he wanted to know what you meant when you said you liked someone else. He had your favourite food memorized, he made sure to place the order for your favourite chocolates and everything else you would need for your comfort.

You were beyond grateful, although you also wished to tell him that he was the only person you needed, and nothing more. You stare at him as he helps you with your night routine, insisting on applying moisturizer on your face. It's hard to focus on anything else but his breath fanning your face, summoning all the willpower you have to not kiss his pouty lips.

“You're taking care of me as if I'm the baby here,” you teased lightly.

“You've taken care of me your whole life, it's about time you rest and let me take care of you, y/n.” his tone was authoritative, a hint of teasing laced it.

“I see you're a big boy now,” you laughed softly and he came closer.

“Bigger than you think,” he spoke near the shell of your ear, your eyes widening at the sexual undertone, which left as soon as you saw a goofy smile adorning his face. Maybe he didn't mean it that way. You gulped, cheeks heating up as he cupped your cheeks.

“Feel better?”

“Hm, sorry you had to see me like this, Hee,” you smiled sadly.

“Hey, I'm here for you. Always.”

“Will you—” you licked your lips, looking away, “—stay the night? I mean, of course, you don't have to do it but yeah I still wanted to ask for the sake of—” he found your rambling cute, praying that you don't see how blush crept up his neck.

“I will.” he caressed your cheek, “You deserve the whole world,” he cooed at your smiley face, taking in your drowsy appearance.

“Come, let's get you to bed.”

He too settled in, getting his sweatpants and a loose white t-shirt for the night. He was staying with you after all.

“Hee?” you called out his name, the room dark and perfect for you to sleep in, his hand holding yours as your bodies maintained a fair distance for the sake of your sanity.

He hummed at the sound of his name.

“Why don't you call me noona?” your question threw him off guard as you remembered what Mingyu had said. It was true that Heeseung had never addressed you as noona before despite having a solid three years of age gap.

He turned towards you, watching your figure as his eyes adjusted to the dim environment of your room, his body still processing your scent on the pillows and the warmth of your body radiating close to him.

“I don't see you as a noona.” your eyebrows cocked up at that.

“What do you see me as then?” you whispered, asking him the question slowly so as to not disturb the peace in your room.

“Can't tell you just yet,” he mumbled. He wanted to tell you, he just didn't want to pressure you with his feelings right when you got out of a relationship, a relationship which didn't end well. “Why, do you wanna be called noona?”

“No!” you said in a beat.

“Are you sure?” you were sure his eyebrows were wiggling with this question.

“Heeseung—” you started but were pulled into his chest, your back against his chest as you let out a strangled gasp. His grip only got stronger as he whispered near your neck, tickling you in the process, “Sleep, noona.”

Only you knew how grateful you were for the lights being off, preventing the Bambi boy from seeing you smile like a maniac at the name. It wasn't a strange feeling anymore, it being pretty evident that you were crushing on a guy who was younger than you.

And you didn't regret it for a second.

It was afternoon when you woke up, the bed being empty and you wondered where Heeseung had gone, a tiny frown settling on your face.

You wanted to see his face the first thing in the morning.

Regardless, you got up and got yourself cleaned, getting into the shower to get rid of the bitter memories from yesterday. The shower was one of the places where you let your imagination run wild, pondering about a certain Lee Heeseung as you applied your favourite lychee body wash on your loofah, scrubbing your body gently — which again reminded you of how gentle he was while touching your face yesterday, how possessively he held you the whole night, as if you were his favourite soft toy to cuddle.

You wondered if that's what being with him would feel like, that if he'd accept you despite the age gap.

With a sigh, you got out of the shower, opting to wear your comfiest pair of shorts and a t-shirt, striding towards the kitchen to fend for your hungry self, only to find the tall boy making his way into your home, your eyes sparkling at the sight of him.

“Where did you go?” you lamented, and he held up a box of your favourite assorted doughnuts, making you gasp. Although it was the least of your worries when you noticed his bruising knuckles.

“How—” you asked, holding his hand and inspecting the wound, eyes widening at the blood.

He bit his lip, looking elsewhere before replying, “I might have paid a little visit to Mingyu,” you blinked one, and twice, making him sit on the couch and grabbing your first-aid kid from the kitchen, softly cleaning it with cotton and alcohol.

He hissed with pain, “Shh. Relax, baby.” he stilled at the name, gulping down the urge to pull you in his lap and smash his lips onto yours, confessing right after. He successfully refrained from doing so.

You cradled his face in your hands, “You don't need to hurt yourself for me, Hee,” you whispered.

“I'd do it a million times if it means that you'll be okay.” he pulled you in his lap, your hand holding on to his shoulder for support.

“Don't say that,” your voice came out breathy, heart beating out of your chest with how earnest his stare was.

“Why not?” his voice came out equally low, head tilting at the question.

“Because, then I won't be able to stop myself anymore.” your eyes settle on his lips, which were slightly parted.

“Stop yourself—from what?” he asked with a pensive expression, his body being hyper-aware of everything. The scent of your perfume took over his mind, a damn smile curling up his lips as if he had figured out what your answer was.

“From—” you averted your eyes, his finger under your chin making you look into his eyes again, closer than before, the tip of your noses almost brushing.

“From?” he urged softly.

“From kissing you,” you admitted with equal gentleness, cheeks on fire while you waited for him to speak something, anxiety bubbling up in your stomach.

“You don't have to stop.” he spoke after a second of silence.

“What—” your question is answered by his lips being pressed against yours in a feather-light kiss.

You had never been kissed like this before, soft, tender and full of what you'd call ‘love’, his big hand cupping your cheek, caressing it with the pad of his thumb, tilting his head to kiss you deeper, while you held on to his shoulder, pulling him impossibly closer to you.

Your foreheads touch when you finally break apart from your kiss, your eyes boring into his, “So when you talked about liking another guy yesterday—”

“—that was you.” you confirmed, and his smile grew wider, a soft laugh escaping him before he pulled you into his embrace and yet another kiss.

“Fuck, I've wanted you for so long,” he confessed, giggling at your widened eyes.

“How long?” you genuinely asked.

“Ever since you called me Bambi when I was four,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Did you ever think about me being older than you then?” you snuggled deeper into his hold, asking him the question that had bothering you from long.

“It doesn't matter, it never mattered. I just want you, y/n. I tried to get over you when you got a boyfriend but I couldn't, I didn't want to.”

And that's when you knew you wanted him for life.

“I'm sorry you had to wait for so long, baby.”

“You're worth the wait,” he smiled and hid your face in his neck.

He grunts in surprise, feeling your soft brush against his neck, your name leaving his mouth in a manner which sent a shiver down your spine. “Fuck, sorry,” you panicked, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable around you.

“No, oh god no, I want you, y/n.” he spoke, placing a kiss on your temple, “I just, am trying to refrain myself from doing something cause you just came out of a relationship.”

“Hee, you don't have to stop, I'm yours.”

“Yeah? All mine?”

“All yours, baby.” you giggled, shifting to get comfortable as you two lie down, exchanging kisses with giggles and soft smiles.

“This feels like a dream,” he breathed out.

“Does that mean you see me in your dreams often?” you teased.

He huffed, “Of course I do!”

You tilted your head with curiosity, “Oh? What do you dream about?”

He pulled you flesh against his chest, whispering in your ear, “Making love to you.”

With one smile, he ran away with you chasing him, flustered with the sudden revelation. He pinned you against the wall as soon as you entered your bedroom.

“Hey,” he smiled.

“Hey,” you bit your lower lip.

His arm winded around your waist tighter as he softly helped you lie down on your bed, kissing the shell of your ear, “Let me make love to you, noona.”

Oh, you were fucked.

How could you say no to him, especially when he requests for it ever so softy, doe eyes staring into your own eyes, searching for any hint of discomfort or hesitance.

You blink out of your reverie, whispering out a soft yes, gasping when he places the softest kisses on your clavicle, fingers intertwined with yours as he whispers your name, “Tell me if it gets too much for you,” he whispered in the expanse of your skin.

The gentle kisses down your throat to your chest do nothing to stop soft sighs from leaving your mouth. “So pretty,” he had called you pretty a lot of times, but it never once felt like this.

He made you feel pretty.

Each touch felt like a sensation of appreciation towards your body, each kiss delivering unsaid confessions out loud.

His name rolled off your tongue effortlessly, tightening your hold on his fingers, never wanting to let go of him. He gently tugged at the corner of your t-shirt, glancing at you, asking wordlessly and you nod as he helped you up slightly to remove the piece of clothing. He gulped, seeing you bare in front of him, you helpfully removing your bra for him.

“I could stare at you the whole day.”

He worshipped every inch of you, caressing your waist as he started sucking on your tits, back arching with ecstasy, “you sound so pretty, noona,” he rubs his nose against yours, your heartbeat rising as he rubbed your thighs in a gentle caress, squeezing it right after.

You whine, tugging on his t-shirt, and he immediately got rid of it as you pulled him in, lips on his neck while he continued to touch every inch of you.

“Please, Hee—” you whispered, fingers holding on to his nape as you felt wetness pooling in your panties.

He didn't wait for a second to undress you fully, him doing the same as he followed your gaze, your eyes fixated on his torso, wanting to kiss him all over. You rubbed your hands on his faint abs, his hard-on pressing on your inner thighs, “Wanna taste you,” he whispered and you closed your eyes, overwhelmed when his lips touched your wet core, licking your slit while the tip of his nose brushed against your clit, making you squirm around.

He hummed at the taste of you, head spiralling at the sight of you being so vulnerable in front of him, heart full at the sight of your trust in him, he only licked more, pecking your inner thighs and inserting a finger to prep you for him.

“Such sweet noises. You're doing so good, baby.”

His words calmed you, your eyes never leaving his as he looked at you, lips coated with your juices.

“Can't wait more,” you gasped out his name.

“Fuck, I won't last long if you keep calling my name like that,” he got up, and you whined at the loss of contact.

You told him where you kept the condom, him hurriedly getting one and putting it on as you watched the boy fondly despite the heated feeling you had down your core.

He pumped his cock a few times before, he positioned himself in front of you, tip prodding your entrance, coming in contact with your wetness.

“Tell me you want it.” his forehead rested against yours.

“Want you, so much.”

He pulled you in a deep kiss, pushing himself inside, groaning into your mouth at the feeling of your warm walls wrapping around him so well.

You squirm with the stretch, toes curled with how thick he was, adjusting to his size as you wrapped your legs around his torso, asking him to continue.

His thrusts were languid and deep, successful in eliciting breathy moans out of you, swearing that it was the prettiest sound he had ever heard.

“So perfect,” you spoke, nibbling on his lower lip.

The feeling was intimate and something along the lines of what you'd consider as perfect. Soft giggles leaving your mouth as you got lost in the essence of each other, faint touches everywhere, lips red and slightly swollen with your kissing sessions, heart full and warm.

He made you weak in the knees.

His hair bounced as he continued to thrust into you, sloppier than before as he felt his orgasm building up, he knew you were close with how your legs shook slightly, his soft pad of thumb rubbing circles on your clit.

“Hee, I'm close,” you sighed and he kissed your cheek.

“I know, baby. You did so well, cum for me now.” he urged gently, pressing his lips to take in all your moans as you reached your state of euphoria, him twitching a couple of times before he filled up the condom too, embracing you as he stayed inside for a while. Both of you breathing deeply, holding on to each other.

“I love you.”

You opened your eyes, only to see him smiling at you, staring at you with nothing but adoration.

Instead of answering, you asked him a question.

“What did you wish for on the shooting star?” your voice was low.

“You.” his cheeks were red, and you smiled.

You had never been so sure of anything else in life and you had to voice it out. His eyes tearing up at your confession when you said—

“I'm in love with you, Heeseung.”

And you knew you would love him for the entirety of your life.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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#fic : can't you see me #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #kpop smut #enha smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen lee heeseung #lee heeseung x reader #jay smut #jake smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen scenarios #heeseung fanfic

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flamingpudding · 6 months

Text

Fictober23 Prompt: 11 - "You lost it, Well, we lost it."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: G

Warnings: -

A/N: Ties to this Post, but can be read independently, or at least I hope. I am bad at judging these kind of things.

"Daniel." Damian hissed looking over his shoulder at the floating presence next to him. 'Daniel' had his back turned to him, arms crossed and was clearly pouting. The preteen's right eye twitched.

"Daniel, look at me." Really was this the others reaction to getting told to shut up after he had rambled a good while about his oldest brother and causing them to lose the artifact they had just acquired?

"My name is not Daniel."

"For such an old being, you are being childish." Damian huffed back, having had this kind of argument before with Daniel, well Danny as the ghost - spirit - his past life's soul or whatever he should call him, insisted.

"And you are not childish enough. You are what? 11? 12? Be a kid and live more!" Danny turned around, throwing his arms out while doing a twirl in the air. Damian watched how the other's hands lit up green and he let sparks fly, imitating a firework.

"We do not have time for this." Damian huffed instead, turning his focus back to their surroundings.

"If not now, when then?" Danny retorted, floating next to his shoulder again, looking at the map Damian had laid out on the ground, several areas were already crossed out and the boy was tapping with a pencil against the paper.

"We wouldn't be in this situation if you hadn't distracted me before, with facts that I did not need to know."

"Excuse me? I find the fact that I figured out who Dash got reborn as very important! Like do you know how badly I want to go to Clockwork and beg him to sent be back in time just so I could see his face if I told him? That's something you should be looking forward to with how interested you had been about some of the others. Ancients! Dan would laugh even more if I told him!"

Standing up and dusting his pants Damian crossed his arms staring unimpressed at the now rambling ghost. Now going on and on about the fact that since they were tied together, he would get dragged along and prove that Danny wasn't lying to his former bully about having become a super protective and wacky older brother.

Pinching the bridge of his nose Damian, felt like he could relate to his fathers a bit more now. "Daniel."

"Just image the face he would make and…"

"Daniel."

"....of course it would be hard to prove but since we can't get more than 20 ft distance you would…"

"....Daniel James Fenton."

"...once we are there I could also show you how Dad and Mom used to be and…"

"... Daniel Phanom."

"... you could help me figure out who Vlad was reborn as once you saw past him. I am still…"

Damian sighed, glaring at the still rambling Ancient of Balance, Ghost King or whatever other title the ghost had acquired. "Danny."

In an instant Danny's head snapped to Damian with stars in his eye. "DAMI! You called me Danny!"

His eye twitched and he suppressed whatever he wanted to return right now and opted to only click his tongue. "Oh right, we got a job to do! We gotta find that artifact, we had researched."

The younger turned his unimpressed stare into a glare. "You mean the artifact we had, previously before you distracted me with your ramblings again."

"That's right! You lost it!" Danny knocked with a fisted hand against the flat of his palm in realization, smiling brightly. "That ninja guy took it, the one you said who was working for your Peepaw right?"

"Please do not call grandfather that. Besides, you distracted me. Being the only one able to see you is clearly a hindrance not an advantage as you insisted." Damian huffed back, turning his face to the side.

"Still doesn't change the fact that it got taken from you. Ergo you lost it!" Danny grinned widened, ready to tease Damian more about having lost the artifact they had painfully researched and tried to find behind their families back. Though the ghost blinked as Damian suddenly smirked up at him. "Well, we lost it. You told me once that we were supposed to be the same person until you were removed from the reincarnation cycle. But this soul magic recognizes you and me as the same. Despite you seeing me for who I am, we are bound."

"Uh…"

Damian continued to smirk. "You are essentially teasing yourself."

The two stared at each other, one smirking triumphantly the other staring in disbelief and with a gabbing mouth. Finally Danny huffed, crossing his arms and pouting as he floated cross legged next to his sort-of-but-not-reincarnation. "Don't tell Dan you outworded me again."

"I have yet to meet this 'Dan', Daniel." Damian answered easily as he uncrossed his arms and picked up the map, having decided where to go next now that Danny was no longer spouting nonsense and would be of help. He had noticed small traces of his grandfather's man that had taken the artifact from them.

"Nooooooo!" Damian only so much as inclined his head slightly into the other direction. Bracing himself for next nonsense the other would come up with only to see from the corner of his eyes how Danny dramatically fell into a horizontal floating position, acting like he was laying flat on the floor. "You are back to being all formal names! I thought we made progress!"

Damian only smirked hopping off the roof they had been on, back on track to get the artifact back. It had only been two weeks but he had become quite fond of his dramatic past self, despite the existential worries he had caused at first. Still as much as he had gotten fond of Danny, he did not want for the other to be stuck with him forever. After all, the Ghost King surely had his own duties to attend to, yet Damian wouldn't mind if the Ancient became a permanent fixture in his life.

Maybe he could even introduce him to the rest of the family, once the soul magic was resolved and he was no longer the only one able to see him.

#fictober23 #danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #crossover #dcxdp #damian wayne #Danny is the ghost king #he doesn't get reincarnated #Damian was supposed to be his reincarnation #They are bound together by some magic #Danny gets distracted whenever he finds another reincarnation #Damian is the only one able to see him #for now #after the angst they started to get along #kinda like siblings

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eoieopda · 1 year

Note

Yoongi + “runaway bride” I’mma leave this one up to your interpretation bc I know I’ll love it either way and also wanna see what you come up with 👀

oooooooh!!! v excited by this prompt, lol. this is, um, going to hurt kind of a lot at the beginning, but stick with me!!!! also, i accidentally made this >3.3k words….. which i will proofread when i am no longer exhausted 🤪

the one with yoongi and the fucking hydrangeas

ft. POV shift, pining & correlating angst, reader who’s🎵 a runner she’s a track star 🎵, a #nonspon vans product placement, a very unfortunate namjoon (sorry, buddy,) childhood idiots in love

Yoongi sat in a seat chosen specifically for him not because he wanted to, but because he knew how much time you’d sacrificed in writing every place card by hand.

To be clear, he’d never wanted to attend this rehearsal dinner in the first place. Unfortunately, he knew the stakes. That wasn’t something he’d dare to say out loud — especially not to you. Not in that restaurant while you fluttered between tables and shined your warm light on every single guest, one by one. Not ever, because you’d slipped through Yoongi’s fingers the second Namjoon slid that ring on yours.

If, in twelve hours’ time, Yoongi could force his deflated body out of bed, he’d have to watch quietly while you got away for good.

There was nothing he could do about it, either, so he swallowed that grief with a mouthful of bibim nengmyun. He knew it wasn’t the food that tasted so bitter on his tongue; however, on the off-chance that it was, he followed suit with another ill-advised swig of makgeolli.

During the two subsequent hours he sat and stewed at that table, Yoongi had lost count of just how many glasses he’d had. His eyes never lingered on the bottle, sticking instead to you and the smile that didn’t seem to spread beyond the curve of your lips. Every now and then, you’d glance his way — and every time you did, there was a microscopic twinge at the corner of your mouth.

It felt like a signal, something cryptic, but he wasn’t in the proper headspace to begin making assumptions. For the first time ever, you’d hit Yoongi with a look he didn’t know what to do with, and that fact drove him insane. This was what he was afraid of, after all — that the invisible string between you would be re-routed to someone else, and the telepathic link you’d always shared would disappear with it.

Your friendship had started early because your respective mothers had grown up together, and found each other once again as adults with two kids each. Back then, both of your front teeth were missing and — if Yoongi made you laugh too hard at routine, weekend gatherings — banana milk would occasionally fly out through the gap. He was nine-years-old and had no concept of it, but now he knows that he loved you then.

He loved you when you were ten, and you kneed a classmate in the dick for bullying Yoongi on the basketball court. You were two years younger and half his size, but you were a force to be reckoned with.

He loved you when you were fourteen, and a wave of brand new hormones made you a little bit of a fucking nightmare to be around.

At seventeen, twenty-one, still.

Now.

There, while everyone around him clinked their chopsticks against their glasses and Namjoon accepted the crowd’s wordless demand that he kiss you.

Yoongi had done well enough with your previous relationships. None of them made him feel like this, though, and he’d spent two years unable to put his finger on why. Sandwiched at that carefully chosen table between his mother and older brother, it finally clicked: None of them ever threatened to last.

Yoongi had never been a particularly hopeful person, but buried deep in the back of his brain, there had always been a crumb of it. Part of him, however stupid, thought you’d end up together at a dinner like this. All of this was the last nail in the coffin, the alarm clock screaming that it was time to wake up.

Suddenly more nauseous than he’d ever been before, Yoongi scooted his chair back so abruptly that it scraped along the floorboards. Just as quickly, he got to his feet and made a beeline for the exit. Of all the heads that turned to watch him leave, yours was the only one he noticed in his peripheral vision. He could feel your eyes on his back — pictured how confused you must look — and it only made his stomach acid churn faster.

When he finally made it out to the patio behind the restaurant, Yoongi’s suspicions were confirmed: closed for the season. Fitting. He wasn’t in the mood to heed the signs, so he stepped carefully — one leg at a time — over the hip-high metal gate and gulped down sharp, late autumn air. As he did, he begged himself to get his shit together for you, if not for him.

He spent several minutes out there, maybe even hours, sitting on a bare, metal chair and glowering out at the trees at the edge of the property. He hated himself, he realized, for how easily he wasted time. Let it slip by unnoticed while he stood still.

The clock seemed to mock him, ticking faster from behind him as if time was going to outrun him again.

At least, that was his first guess.

Yoongi quickly learned that the clicks weren’t signaling the passing seconds; they were broadcasting the urgent beat of stilettos on brick. So, having figured that his mother had appeared outside to gun him down, Yoongi glanced over his shoulder and braced himself for the be-all, end-all of scoldings.

What he got instead was you and the undeserved concern that caused your eyebrows to furrow.

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly once you reached the gate. With your manicured hands on the cold metal, you shivered, but you didn’t seem to notice. “Did you eat too much of the gochujang? I definitely did, and now I’ll be up all night with heartburn.”

Yoongi felt as though he’d been punched in the chest. The memory caught him in a riptide, beat him bloody against the rocks because he could’ve sworn he was sixteen again, stacking old encyclopedias under the headboard of your bed. He’d read somewhere online that, while sitting upright in a chair can exacerbate reflux, sleeping at an angle could help.

He was dizzy when he blinked back at you and saw your lips moving. He had to focus hard to figure out what you were saying.

“You remember that?”

Yoongi struggled to even out his breathing; he had no hope at all of finding the plot he’d lost. “Huh?”

You grinned and it made up for all the stars that had been hidden by grey clouds overhead. “The encyclopedias,” you chuckled, “They worked, you know.”

Yoongi didn’t mean to say it. He knew it before, during, and after it slipped out of his mouth that it was the worst goddamn thing he’d ever done, but he couldn’t stop himself — couldn’t shove the bullet he’d shot back into the gun. With the way it exploded through his chest — I love you — he was surprised that his body was still intact. No viscera sprayed out from the exit wound, no stains appeared on your chic, white cocktail dress.

You opened your mouth but closed it soon after, so clearly stunned by his unsolicited admission that you couldn’t find the words. Yoongi had no expectations whatsoever when it came down to your reaction because he hadn’t meant to provoke one in the first place. Even still, the wounded look on your face was worse than anything he might’ve imagined.

The two of you stood in tense silence for so long that Yoongi’s soul had nearly ejected itself fully from his body.

“That’s not fair,” eventually came your shaky reply. You clenched your fist tight around the top of the gate to anchor yourself and stammered, “Yoongi, that is not — Why would you —”

As soon as he aimed to take a step in your direction, your shock gave way to a scowl that could’ve boiled him alive.

“Why would you dump that at my feet? Tonight, of all fucking nights, Yoongi — seriously?” You snapped, though it sounded like a sob. “What am I supposed to do with this now?”

Now?

He didn’t know how to respond. He was paralyzed, inside and out, and he deserved it. Who the fuck was he, forcing the burden of his feelings onto you?

Selfish. Stupid. Out of time, as usual.

The makeup you always took so much time on started to run alongside your tears. Yoongi had seen you cry before, though he’d always been the reason you stopped, rather than started. He hated every single one of those muddied, black tears because he knew you. He knew you would have worn waterproof mascara if you’d had any reason to anticipate crying on your special night.

“I’m getting married in the morning!”

Your reminder was a dagger flying out of your mouth, sticking him right between the ribs. It stung as images flooded his mind — of you and Namjoon, your guests, and your out-of-season, imported fucking hydrangeas. It hurt even worse to see how badly you shook as you glared at him.

“Yoongi — fuck!”

Before you walked away, your eyes locked on his for a fraction of a second. In that moment, Yoongi promised himself that it was the last time you’d ever have to see his face.

When you were little, you pictured your wedding day like a moment ripped straight out of Cinderella. In your head, you’d wake up to birds singing at your window and mice scurrying around your feet, eager to dress you in a gown of epic and magical proportions. It’d be perfect. For years, you’d been sure of it.

In reality, there was no waking up because there hadn’t been a single second of sleep to begin with. No beauty rest, no sweet dreams of marital bliss — just you, feeling as if you’d swallowed a car battery. It sat heavy in the pit of your stomach, let acid burn all the way up to your esophagus. And it’d been all too easy to toss and turn in your hotel bed, which laid perfectly level on top of a plush, floral rug.

You crawled out of bed without the assistance of altruistic rodents and shuffled your dead weight over to the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. For once, your imagination had been accurate. Your puffy eyes were red in the aftermath of all your tears. They ached above circles so deep and dark that they would’ve alarmed you if you hadn’t expected them.

Namjoon had seen you at what you both believed to be your worst. Neither of you could’ve ever predicted that the Corpse Bride would be the one staggering down the aisle towards him. He’d love you anyway, you knew it, no matter how you looked. But if he knew what you spent all night toiling over…

You shook your head and abruptly turned away from the mirror. There were several of your dearest friends bustling around the room next to yours, all of whom were waiting on you. Swallowing hard, you headed for the adjoining door and promised yourself that the only person you’d let down today would be you.

You lost all track of time when a blur of hands went to work on you. If you’d closed your eyes while you dissociated, you could’ve pretended that your assistants were those woodland creatures you used to dream about. But you couldn’t close your eyes, couldn’t sleep through this part, couldn’t let your mind wander all the way back to that patio.

It’d been terrifying, staring your own heart in the face like that. More than anything, it was confusing because it didn’t look like you expected it would — not like an organ at all, but a person. You’d gotten so good at ignoring it that you couldn’t reasonably expect yourself to recognize it. It knew you, though, and loved you. Apparently, it always had.

As you sat in that hotel room, far away from the patio, you pictured every other moment you wished Yoongi had said what he did. The thousand times you’d thought for sure he felt the same, and all the ways you distracted yourself when you resigned to believing he didn’t. Every person you dated until you finally managed to move on —

“— please, love?”

You blinked rapidly to force your eyes to focus. In front of you, your mother stood with a knowing smile on her face and a sokchima in her hands. You didn’t need to ask her to repeat herself; you took the hint and rose slowly to your feet.

“I was nervous on my wedding day,” she hummed as she pulled the undergarment gently over your head. “Hungover, too, but your grandmother does not need to know that. Frankly, I’m surprised she couldn’t tell with how bloated I was when she helped me get ready…”

The bright scarlet chima followed without so much as a word from you. Your heart slammed helplessly against your rib cage when your mother proceeded to tug the sleeves of your jeogori up your arms. This moment should be special, you thought bitterly. All you wanted to do was cry; to apologize to your mother for your total inability to care while your wedding happened around you, not for you.

Soon enough, you were dressed. Your friends and older sister gushed about how beautiful you looked — the perfect bride — like you weren’t caught in the web of an anxiety attack. Like it wasn’t all wrong, and you weren’t dangling on the precipice of your life’s greatest mistake. Like you hadn’t spent so much of your hard-earned money on invitations and greenhouse-grown, special-ordered fucking hydrangeas.

Like you could catch a fucking breath under all the layers of your hanbok.

Sensing that a moment alone was necessary, your mother kissed your cheek and ushered the others out the door ahead of her. Before seeing herself out, too, she stalled in the threshold, turned back around to look at you, and exhaled through a pause.

“I left your shoes by the dresser,” she chirped.

The gentleness of her tone was reassuring, but there was a faint gleam in her eyes that caught your attention. Before you could ask after it, she nodded firmly once and let the door click shut behind her.

Alone again, your instinct was to do the same thing you’d spent ten consecutive hours doing — burying yourself under pillows and crying until you ran out of tears. But you had run out, which was precisely was the problem. You had no options left, nothing left to do but lean in.

At least, that was your first guess.

Your list of choices expanded by one when you saw the well-worn pair of slip-on Vans your mother had set out for you.

Yoongi sat on the edge of his bed with his elbows on his knees and his face buried in his hands.

Only two meters away, a garment bag hung from the hook on the back of his bedroom door. That bag — and the crisp, black suit it concealed — lingered there for weeks in the shadows, untouched since the day he bought it. Even though it hadn’t left its hanger, he felt it smothering him throughout the night. It choked him while one thought ran circles in his sleep-deprived brain:

The reason he bought it was the same reason he’d never be able to wear it.

Sick of the way he’d trapped himself with his thoughts, Yoongi pushed himself to his feet and crossed over to the door. With the way he flung it open, knob slamming against the wall, he’d likely never recover his security deposit. It felt good, though, taking his grief out on that godforsaken suit.

On his way to his front door, Yoongi stopped short. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a cabinet he hadn’t opened in weeks. As he stared at it, the devil and angel on his shoulders warred over the action he wanted so desperately to take.

Sure, he’d recently — finally — quit at your insistence, but what did that matter now?

He gritted his teeth and shook his conscience off his shoulders with a shrug. Within seconds, Yoongi was on the other side of his kitchen, grabbing an unopened pack of cigarettes and the lighter that lay in wait next to it. He closed his hand tight around it so he couldn’t see the Hello Kitty stickers you’d placed all over the plastic; your attempt to dissuade him from using it in public.

Joke’s on you, he thought as he placed a cigarette between his lips, your plan backfired. Leaving your mark on it the way you had was the only thing that’d kept him from throwing it away — and the only reason he still had a lighter to use at all.

Yoongi opened his front door with one hand as he tried to ignite the lighter with the other. No matter how many time he flicked the pad of his thumb over those little metal ridges, nothing sparked. Defeated yet again, he slumped down onto the porch swing, closed his eyes, and willed himself not to break down over something so stupid.

He had no way of knowing how much time passed as he sat like that. He had no way to tell who those urgent footfalls belonged to, either. That is, not until panted breaths hit his ears and prompted him to open his eyes.

Admittedly, Yoongi had pictured you in your bridal hanbok more than once throughout the years. Half the time, it hadn’t even been purposeful. From first to third grade, you’d rambled to him about your dream wedding on your daily walks home from school. You spoke about it so often, in fact, that even he started thinking about what embroidery a mouse might add to the hem of your chima.

As the pair of you got older, you brought it up less, so Yoongi didn’t think about it often. The image crept up on him, though, once in a while. Every time you brought him as a plus one to your friends’ weddings because you didn’t want to dance alone; and he nearly told you that he’d always want to be your partner.

Or that time you cried through your worst ever heartbreak on his couch, lamented that you’d die an old maid, and never get to wear one.

Even as recently as last night, when he drank half a fifth of whiskey and grieved over the fact that he’d never get to see you wear one.

He couldn’t make heads or tails of the real thing, not with the way you’d doubled over to catch your breath; and bunched the ends up in your fists, presumably to prevent yourself from tripping as you — ran here?

“What did I tell you about the cigarettes?” You puffed, still with your hands on your knees and your face angled at the sidewalk.

Somehow, despite running five kilometers to Yoongi’s doorstep, you hadn’t displaced a single hair from your artfully crafted up-do. Your makeup hadn’t budged, either, which meant that the only sign of your expended effort was the tint of pink on your cheeks and the tip of your nose.

You’d outrun his train of thought in your scuffed, old Vans. Yoongi had to buffer for a moment in order to catch up, but the involuntary smile fighting its way over his mouth didn’t bother to wait. Eventually, he recited your long-suffering appeal, smirking all the while, “They’ll fuck me up, and I’ll have to be wheeled out onto the basketball court in an iron lung.”

“Exactly.”

With one last, deep breath, you returned to your upright position. The second you did, Yoongi was the one choking up.

Rapid blinking did nothing to stop the tears pricking at the inner corners of his eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat to the best of his ability, but he couldn’t shake the inexplicable flutter in his chest at the sight of you. You’d always been perfect, but this was —

“Oh, my god,” he croaked, thoroughly melted from the inside out.

Yoongi stood before his brain could signal his legs to do so; or remind his hands not to drop the phone, lighter, and cigarettes he’d been holding. His eyes, on the other hand, knew exactly what to do. He drank in your appearance like he’d spent the last twenty-two years wandering, dehydrated in the desert — and in a way, he had.

You blinked back at him with swimming eyes as if you’d found sanctuary, too. Suddenly aware of what you were gripping, you opened your fists and let the fabric flutter down to the ground. While smoothing out wrinkles that didn’t exist, you asked softly, “Not bad for a bunch of mice, right?”

“Look just like a dream,” he replied just as gently.

Yoongi’s hands, which were thankfully now free, reached out and grabbed yours. You followed his lead as he spun you, twirled under his raised arm until you ended up with your face mere centimeters from his.

“Yoongi,” you breathed. Your eyes danced from his, to his lips, and back again. “If you wait another twenty-two years to tell me how you feel, please pick a time and place that is mutually convenient. I swear to God, I’ll —”

It came out much more easily the second time than the first; and when it did, it felt more like a beginning than a bomb:

“I love you.”

#re: the one with yoongi and the fucking hydrangeas #jade’s requests #jade’s drabbles #2k drabblepalooza #myg #min yoongi #yoongi #bts #bts drabble #yoongi drabble #bts imagine #bts scenarios #yoongi imagine #yoongi scenarios #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #trashlibrary

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mayullla · 1 year

Note

Hello! I love ur work, and was wondering if I could ask for dottore (?) with 🌹🍁 ??

if you can’t that’s ok =) take your time!

Note: I am gonna assume (?) means that I could pick if it is yandere or platonic yandere and reader? well either way hope you like it!

Title: Unfair Trade

Character(s): Il Dottore (Genshin Impact) Summary: You trapped yourself in your mind after you and the traveler had been lured into a trap made by Dottore. Why you were stuck in your own conscious Il Dottore and the Grand Sage talked about their little deal. Warnings/tags: Dendro archon!reader, fem!reader, yandere themes, possessive behavior, manipulation, power imbalance, 3.2 archon quest scenario, drabble, this is related to a really old brainrot I had before (here)

[ - A little present~! Event - Closed - ]

"Now that I have done my part of the deal, it is only fair that you, too, hold your end of the deal."

"Yes! Yes!!" Azar spoke in a hurried tone. There was greed in his voice of a hopeful future that he could not wait to come. The price was cheap for what it was. Something that he would gladly give.

"You may take the pitiful dendro archon. With our new archon who will rule Sumeru with wisdom and knowledge giving away that weak archon is but a far small price to pay. In fact, I feel as if this deal is not even fair." Azar spoke to the expelled scholar of the academia once he would have looked down on such a man now he spoke with respect.

Yet he could not help but furrow his eyebrows. Why did this man even want you... "Considering how much you have helped us, we would gladly give you anything else you want?"

"An archon is still an archon while she is weaker compared to others. She is still an existence above many beings." Dottore smiled at the grand sage, appearing more satisfied with the trade than anything. "I do not need anything she alone is enough for me."

"Suit yourself. I must go now, I have another scheduled appointment that I must go to. I apologize. Stay for a while if you wish, and I will have someone bring in more tea if you want." No longer willing to push the subject matter. Azar stood up about to call someone to come in.

"There is no need to worry. I too also need to go soon. The Tsaritsa had called me, and I must prepare to leave for Snezhnaya soon." Waving his hand, he let the Grand Sage leave as he too left the room, heading higher and higher up the stairs of the building.

"If only our own archon was wise in wisdom and knowledge, would we never have to resort to this."

"Trust me, I know your sufferings. I only provided you a way the rest you have worked hard for the benefit of Sumeru." Dottore could only laugh at such useless talks, both knowing well they have their own goals and motivations, yet spewing lies and deceit.

Reaching the place only the higher-ups could enter.

Dottore looked at the person with the orb, sleeping soundly as if, once upon a time, a few days ago, she wasn't trying to rebel with the traveler to rescue her land.

"I still remember the emotions in your eyes when you saw me. Standing in front of the academia with the traveler, it was only proper to cheer for the hero and their own archon." Il Dottore smiled when he got a clear glimpse of your peaceful sleeping face nothing like the face you gave him when you found out and realized what he has done to your people. "Your expression that time is still something I relished every time I remember it."

"How unfortunate." There was a small movement on his lips that looked like a frown of displeasure and dissatisfaction but quickly curled into a smile again. "I was so close to having you back then, yet you soon left as soon as you realized that the traveler was far away and safe. It was a shame back then, but I wouldn't put it past you to do something like that. And even now, you have avoided most of my trap with something like this.”

"It is quite disappointing, I must say. But no matter, it was all pure entertainment. After all, no matter where your contious was, your body was always here in this little orb."

He circled around your orb. His mask looked in your direction. The sounds of his shoes tapping the floor echoed within the quiet wide place where it is just you and him.

"Would you push me away again after Sumeru had abandoned you like this?" Dottore asked mockingly, "The sages were so thrilled by this chance of a fake god that they were so quick to make a deal that once they have their man-made god they will give you as payment."

"All the Tsaritsa wants is the dendro gnosis. She doesn't care much for how we attain it, so I am sure she would let me keep you from myself. After all, I have already done many things for our Tsaritsa's sake." Stopping his body turned towards you as he raised his hands a little as if showing you something that he was proud of. He knew that he was talking to deaf ears and that you couldn't even hear him. But that didn't stop him. He had you, and now you belonged to him.

"It is, after all, only a matter of time dear. We shall see how long you can hide in this darkness that you have created, this barrier to keep me out. I will slowly take away those walls that guard your consciousness." His grin could not go down no matter what as he looked at you curled up in a ball within the orb.

"Those sages are foolish to give you away from a man-made archon. But that doesn't matter in the end so long as you are mine. It is only a matter of time, dendro archon. Soon, your consciousness will be mine, and I will make sure that it will be locked away from the world with only myself in your thoughts."

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leafs-lover · 1 month

Text

Too Far Gone - Part Fifty Six

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut - fingering, cum play, dirty talk, maybe a slight voyeurism kink, interrupted sex, inadvertent orgasm deprivation, light degradation? I think that's it, let me know if I missed anything

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6,000

Auston didn’t know when they went to bed. The curtains had been left open and the faint glow from the moon was filtering in, but he had to make good on that promise from the roof. And even then, he wasn’t done because they were both drenched in sweat, and there is something about warm beads of water cascading over his girlfriend’s chest that always ended with Auston on his knees.

Sure, it could be considered reckless to stay up that late given they have a three-year-old who has been known to barge in before the sun broke the horizon looking for breakfast. But what was Auston supposed to do, not celebrate the fact Tia finally admitted she loved him? They had talked about getting a puppy, having more kids, getting married, they planned their future, but hearing those words roll off her tongue cemented to him that it was real. As if those four years were nothing more than a long and hazy nightmare he finally awoke from.

When Auston did wake up around 9:20, he planned on quietly crawling out of bed, finding Taylour (he knew one of his friends was keeping him entertained for the time being) and wrangling his help to make her breakfast in bed. A simple gesture, one he had been deprived of for so long. It was his plan, and it was a great plan, then he saw the faint marks on her shoulders, the marks he left, and everything changed. All reason was long gone, and his primal instinct took over. If he could keep her there all day, he would.

“Aus.”

Her nails scratch along his broad shoulder and her body arches into him. Even though she is pulsing with oversensitivity, she doesn’t know if she’s had enough, if she ever will have enough.

“Babe –“ She gasps, sharply.

“What?” He grins, moustache tickling her ear.

“We gotta to get up.” He can tell she wants there to be weight behind the words, but her body is saying something completely different. “So much to do…”

“How am I supposed to get anything done when you’re naked in our bed?” Auston murmurs thickly against her jaw.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

The sheets are a mess. Pillows are on the floor. The stench of sex is heavy in the room.

“So...” His hands roam all over her body. He cups her breast, which somehow overflows in his big hands. “What’s on your list this morning?”

“Yoga.”

“Pretty sure we already did that.” Satisfaction curls on his lips.

“I want to finish up something I’ve been working on…” She trails off for a moment as he licks up her neck, tongue following the bite marks left the night before. “Have to check in with Becks…” Auston grins, the heat flaring behind her cheeks says that won’t happen anytime soon.

“What about fucking your boyfriend?” Auston’s fingers carve into the swollen flesh of her ass.

“I believe I did that already.” He moves his fingers around to her pussy lips and the inside of her thighs, and they are wet, absolutely drenched in their hot sticky mess. “That’s why we’re still in bed.”

“You should put it back on the list, maybe twice.” Auston’s mouth slowly begins to work its way down, first to her collarbone, then her breasts. As his warm tongue swirls around her sensitive nipple, her slick grazes over his member and a deep guttural groan erupts.

“Is that so?” She breathes out a laugh while tugging harshly on his curls.

“Yeah.” Two fingers once again find their way inside. Her body arks toward him and within a few seconds they begin to move. The disgusting slurp of her cunt fills the room as he thrusts them faster and faster. Her walls greedily grasp and hug his digits, never wanting to let him go. Her elbows give out and her body collapses into the bed, quickly and desperately clawing at the sheets.

Auston smirks and applies more pressure. His left hand grabs at her knee and tosses it over his shoulder, earning him a shriek from the deepest part of her diaphragm. Auston fucks his fingers back inside. Every stroke is precise, his knuckles crooked at the knuckle to create the perfect angle. “Can’t decide if I want to eat the cum out of you before I fill you back up.” Auston licks his bottom lip, his fingers massaging her g-spot. “Or if I should bury myself inside and make ya overflow…what do you think?”

“Fuck me.” Tia whispers to herself.

Auston chuckles, a little breathless. “I’m going to.” He circles his thumb around her clit, fingers rhythmically seeking her high. “You taste so good, can only dream of what we taste like together.”

Tia whimpers at the emptiness as Auston pulls his fingers out. He brings them up to her mouth, and without instruction Tia drops her jaw and wraps her lips around them. They both moan as she swirls her tongue around his digits, working to clean the mess. Quickly, he snaps his wrist and runs the saliva and cum coated fingers along her jaw. With a cocky brow raise, he shoves his tongue into her mouth.

“Better than I imagined.”

His hand moves to her hair, and she bites at her lower lip. He knows she washed her hair yesterday. He also knows she will scold him for this later. He just doesn’t care. He moves the head of his shaft down through her folds, allowing it to rest at the opening for just a second, then he buries himself deep inside her warmth.

He messily kisses her once again, taking the time to embrace the wetness that oozes out around his cock. He pulls his hips back, and right before he is about to drive back inside, her hands are on his shoulder trying to push him away.

“Stop.” Her eyes snap open, wide with fear. His brows contort with confusion, then he hears it. Little feet pattering down the hall, his playful giggle getting louder and louder with every step. They both knew they were pushing their luck going for round two, but like a moth to a flame, Auston couldn’t pull himself away.

“Taylour, come on bud, let’s go.” Fred’s voice calls, louder than normal trying to warn those on the other side.

The doorknob begins to jiggle. Tia’s breathing becomes frantic . The slow creak gets louder and louder, and Taylour’s voice enters the room. “I want to show them my trick.”

The more the door opens the more Tia’s face whitens. Auston scrambles off her and scours the floor for a shirt, pants, some piece of clothing to toss on before Taylour barrels in. But everything is everywhere, all he can find is the sheet which he tosses toward Tia.

“Mommy and Daddy are sleeping.” Fred tells him, pulling the door shut. “Why don’t we practice more, and you can show them when they wake up?”

“Because practice makes perfect,” Taylour agrees with a nod.

“Right.” Fred nods down the hall. “Let’s go.”

Auston waits a few seconds until Taylour’s feet are down the hall, then calls out, “Thanks Fred.”

“Yup,” Fred hollers through the door.

“I’m not sure about this.” Tia runs her finger along the strap, then smooths over her stomach.

Once they heard the footsteps fade down the hall and the stair boards creak, Auston and Tia were out of bed. Tia ran a comb through her hair while glaring at Auston for the ends that had fused together, then swiftly threw it up on the top of her head. Auston grabbed a bathing suit –because every day ends with them in the pool – and one of his t-shirts. The two of them went downstairs and Tia started making them smoothies, and Auston set out to get the avocado ready for their breakfast. After inhaling their food, Auston was outside, showing off his backflips – always a favourite with Taylour - and Tia was upstairs in her sewing room.

Once the workspace was mostly complete, she finished the couple orders that were outstanding, then set out designing a few new pieces to expand her line. She sketched out seven new pieces, three of them made it through the 3D rendering, then she began the process of cutting fabric, pinning it together and trying to bring her visions to life. One was easy, only needed a few minor tweaks but was now ready to go to the testing phase. The other two she has been stuck on. Nothing seemed to work, and Tia was about ready to scrap them both and start over, but before that she decided to reach out to the one person that might be able to help.

Celeste presses her glasses back up her nose and shuffles in her seat, as if trying to get a better view from Toronto.

“Yeah…” She hims through the speaker. “I see what you were talking about…I think the point near your underarm needs to go up a bit.” Tia turns toward the camera and lifts her arm, then points to the area she assumes Celeste is talking about. “Yeah,” she confirms. “It’s a little…” her face crinkles as she thinks over the next word.

“Aggressive?”

Celeste feigns a laugh. “That may not be the word I’d use…but yes.”

“The prototype looked so good.” Tia sighs. She thought the dress was going to be the easiest to bring to life. But when she tried the top on it sat low, dangerously low, to a point if Tia moved too much everything spilled out. Despite Auston’s objections, she added fabric to the bodice to bring the neckline up, only it came up too much. Next, she cut a bit out but then she didn’t like the neckline, it was too squared off and simple, so she tried to curve it but overcompensated as indents are being left in her skin.

“That’s why we test them out. I can’t tell you how many pieces I thought were good until I tried them on.” Celeste tries to reassure her with a faint laugh, but this part never gets easy. “It’s not that far off, dear.”

“Yeah.” Tia’s nose crinkles again, almost at her wits end with this one.

“What about the top you were working on.” Celeste steers the conversation away, hoping it has better results. “You decide on a sleeve?”

A few days ago, Tia sent Celeste a picture of a satin top with a simple square neck and subtle pleats in the bodice. The hem was unfinished and there were many pins, but what caught her attention was the two distinctly different sleeves styles. One was short and puffy, and the other was a simple and slender arm with a bell style sleeve. Tia said she was unsure of which one worked best. Celeste called it a copout, called her out to doubt herself and said she wasn’t going to help. It might have been tough, but Celeste knew she needed to make this decision on her own.

“Yay!” Celeste claps when she sees the long and flowy sleeve. This was always the right choice; she is glad Tia figured it out on her own.

“I love that one. Definitely the right pick”

“It’s playful but classic.” Tia smiles with her mentor’s reassurance.

“Completely elevates that top. Tia, I know I’ve said this before, but you have a bright future ahead of you, some people are years in the industry without the eye you have.”

“Thanks.” Tia softly laughs, a faint blush swarming her cheeks.

Now that the prototype is complete, it’s ready for Tia to make a few more and ship them back to the “testers” back in Toronto and get their feedback. Then there are the edits, photoshoots, uploading details to the website. Just when she thinks the finish line is near, she realizes just how far it is.

The two of them talked for a little while longer. Celeste told her about all the struggles she’d been facing as a store owner while in a global lockdown. Her store was forced closed, curbside pickup and online orders were slow, some days non-existent. It filled Tia with so many emotions but worry and regret were the ones she couldn’t shake. If someone who had been successful in the industry was struggling at the drop of a hat, what did it mean for her? Sales were slow, to be expected for a new line, but how long could they be slow before they stopped all together?

Tia put the finishing details on the shirt but left the dress on the mannequin. Normally putting it off wouldn’t be an option. It’d eat at her, knowing there was so much to do but not knowing how to fix it. But today as she walked down the hall toward the stairs, she had zero hesitation walking away because something else had consumed her mind.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Taylour screeches when the patio doors open. “Mommy, help!” He giggles mid-air as Auston tosses him to the other end of the pool, a large splash erupts around him and a few seconds later his head pokes through the surface.

“I can’t help you.” Tia chuckles as she shuffled around the pool’s edge, her feet getting kissed by the exploding water.

“Why not?” Taylour flings his arm around and starts moving toward Auston.

“Because every time I help, your dad throws me in the water.”

“Not true.” Auston winks at her.

Tia shakes her head.

“Please mommy!” Taylour squeals as Auston grabs him by the waist and once again launches him in the air.

Tia flips her wrist and glances at the time on her watch - the very expensive watch Auston brought back from the California road trip because he “thought of her when he saw it.” “We actually have to go, Taylour.”

“Nooooo!” He emphatically shakes his head.

“Yup.” Auston moves toward the stairs. The water line slowly descends, more and more of his chest coming on display for Tia to gawk at. As he moves toward the steps, he grabs Taylour and tugs him. “You said you wanted In and Out for lunch, we have to go get it.”

“Why can’t I stay with Uncle Freddie, and you bring it here.” Taylour pouts. He stands on one of the pool steps, half in – half out of the water, hoping to convince Auston to let him stay.

“Because we’re your parents not Uncle Freddie. Uncle Freddie doesn’t have to spend his time watching you.”

“I want to stay with Fweddie.”

“Well, you’re not.” Auston bites sharply, letting his frustration poke through. “You’re coming with Mommy and I.”

“I don’t want to go with you and Mommy,” he huffs, angrily smacking his hands against the water.

“Taylour, you are coming. Get out of the pool and get dressed, now.” Auston demands, but Tia catches the inflection in his voice and the smirk curving his lips.

“But why?” He raises his voice, becoming more frustrated with Auston’s unusual stern nature. Tia knew it wasn’t going to be easy getting her son from the pool, it never was.

“Because I said so.” Auston barks. “Keep it up and you won’t get to swim for the rest of the week.”

Taylour releases a loud and dramatic groan, then once again smacks his hands against the water. He stomps past Auston, grumbling under his breath, and goes right to Tia who has a warm fluffy towel waiting for him. Having lost the battle with his father, Taylour sets his sights on Tia, hoping for a different response.

“I don’t want to go, Mommy.” Taylour whined softly while he nestled his head to the crook of her neck. She hears the broken exhale and knows tears are on the way – he doesn’t handle Auston’s frustrations well - she just doesn’t know if they are real or fake.

“I know.” Tia kneels and starts rubbing her hands over his back, drying him off while softly comforting him. She gently tilts his head, and swats at the tears clinging to the corner of his eyes. “You have to come with us, sweetie.”

“Why?” Taylour sniffles, barely choking back the lump in his throat.

“Because we have a surprise for you.” Auston cards his hand through Taylour’s drenched curls and grabs his own towel.

“A surprise?!” He immediately perks up, his eyes widen and dart up to Auston. “What is it?”

“Wouldn’t be a surprise if we told you, silly.” Tia playfully boops his nose.

As if the last thirty seconds never happened, Taylour immediately takes off toward the sliding door and gives it a firm tug to drag it open. He runs inside too excited to close the door behind him, then scurries across the hardwood.

“No running on the stairs!” Auston yells after him, but he is too late, Taylour is at the top of the stairs, slipping on the hardwood as he sprints past the railing that overlooks the living room.

“What did we get ourselves into?” Tia jokingly whines when Taylour lets out an “ooh” as he uses his palms to catch himself from falling.

Auston wraps his painted arm around Tia, over her shoulder. Tia brings her hand up and grabs his, then leans against his hard chest. Little drops of water land on her shoulder and in her hair. In an almost scarily still tone he whispers, “you’re going to miss this level of calm.” The worst part is, he is right.

Like most car rides, Taylour quickly became impatient. It wasn’t long after he finished his cheeseburger and shake before the “where are we going,” “how much longer” and “are we there yet” started. They knew the almost hour drive would be long, and planned for it, but no amount of movies, superhero action figures, colouring books would be enough, when all he wanted was to do was swim.

“Mommy, I’m bored.” He whines and dramatically throws his head back against the car seat. He tosses the tablet, and it lands on the floor, bouncing on impact.

Auston huffs out a dry laugh. Like Taylour, his patience is wearing thin. “Wouldn’t be if you watched the movie.”

“I don’t want to watch the movie anymore.” Taylour promptly informs him. His feet kick against the car seat and he dramatically sighs, again.

“We’re almost there, Tay.” Tia turns in her seat and silently laughs at his outfit choice. He insisted on getting ready himself and his shoes are on the wrong feet, his shirt must have come from the laundry given the ketchup stain on the chest, and his shorts are bright neon yellow. The fashion designer in her cringes but as a mom, she is thrilled that he is dressed, and understands that some battles aren’t worth it.

“How many minutes?”

“Less than five.” She picks up the tablet and pauses the movie, then puts it in her bag.

“That’s too long.” Taylour kicks his legs out in a frustrated fit.

“Of course, it is.” Auston mutters sarcastically, his knuckles whitening around the steering wheel.

Tia snaps her head to Auston, and she gives him a look, one he hasn’t seen often but immediately recognizes. “I promise, you’re going to love your surprise.”

They continue driving down the quiet rural road, slowly maneuvering turns. Whatever playlist Auston selected is quiet, so quiet the only sound is the air conditioning whirring through the vents and the rhythmic beeping of the blinker. Tia presses her head against the window and watches the dust kick out from under the tires.

“We’re here.” Auston announces once the vehicle is parked in front of a large farmhouse.

Taylour perks up and tries to sit up in his seat as much as possible. He takes in the surroundings, a blue house with a simple white fence, not distinguishing or exciting for an almost four-year old.

“What are we doing here?” He asks, not hiding the disgruntled look on his face.

“This is a boring surprise, Daddy.”

“You sure about that?” Taylour freed himself from the car seat, and when Auston opens the door, he is quick to leap out.

“Yeah.” He crinkles his nose and closes the car door behind him. “There is no slide or pool, nothing fun.”

Tia hears small overlapping barks and yips coming from inside the home, her heart flutters. She has been waiting for this day her entire life.

Gravel crunches under her feet as she strolled around the car. She crouches down and puts her hand on her knees, bringing herself to Taylour’s eye level. She adjusts his ball cap over his curls then smiles. “Would it still be a bad surprise if we told you there were puppies inside?”

His brown eyes glow. “I want to see the puppies!” He blurts out.

Auston crouches down and smiles, almost bigger than Taylour. “What if we told you; we’re going to bring one home?”

“MY OWN PUPPY!” Taylour screams while jumping in the air.

“A family puppy.” Auston corrects him.

“I’M GETTING A PUPPY!” He shrieks, unphased by what Auston told him.

Auston knew he would be excited when he found out. He assumed there would be jumping and screaming, thought there was the possibility of joyful tears. What he didn’t count on was Taylour being so excited he’d sprint past them toward the front door without another word.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Taylour pounds on the door as hard as he can. “I’m here for my puppy!” Knock. Knock. Knock.

Auston and Tia had barely made it two steps before the door creaks open, a middle-aged woman stands on the other side.

“Hello.” She smiles to Taylour, then to Auston and Tia.

Taylour bounces on his heels, even though they can’t see his face they know he is beaming from ear to ear. “Hi, my name’s Taylour. I’m here for my puppy.”

“Taylour, you can’t just – “

“It’s fine.” She laughs, Taylour isn’t the first child to react this way. She moves to the side to let him pass then waits for Tia and Auston to make their way up the porch.

“Sorry, he has wanted a puppy since before he could walk.”

The three of them hear Taylour squeal as an overlapping chorus of barks and whines echo down the hall.

“No apologies needed.” They all step inside and see Taylour standing on the outside of the fenced in area. He is leaning as far as he can without losing his balance, scratching the tops of the puppies’ heads, giggling the entire time. “I’m Sandra, and that,” she eyes over to the full-size Bernese Mountain dog who is across from Taylour keeping a watchful eye on her pups, “is Stella the mom.” Shortly after a white poodle rounds the corner and walks right up to Auston, nudging his hand for some pets. “This suck is Teddy.”

“Hiya Teddy.” Auston bends down and is instantly met with a lick to the cheek.

“Which one is mine?” Taylour’s head is on a swivel. This puppy. That puppy. That puppy. He can barely keep up.

“We have to pick it.” Auston tells him.

“You can go in.” Sandra offers, motioning to the pen.

Auston and Tia step over the gate, then Auston hooks his arms under Taylour’s armpits to hoist him over. The three of them fall to the floor, immediately being swarmed by the puppies.

“Mommy!” Taylour giggles as one with a pink ribbon licks his cheek. “Mommy, I want this one.”

“Yeah?” She grins, gently scratching behind the ear.

“Any with a ribbon have a home already,” Sandra tells them. “They’ve all had their first round of shots and will be ready for the next one in about two weeks.”

“Daddy, look!” Taylour nods to his foot, where one is gnawing on his sock, attempting to pull it off.

“This one’s trouble huh?” Auston scoops up the black and white ball of fur, taking Taylour’s sock with him, then cradles it in his arms.

“He’s silly.” Taylour broadcasts, trying to yank the sock out of its mouth.

When the puppy keeps his jaw tightly clenched around Taylour’s sock, he sets the puppy on his lap to the ground and crawls over to Auston. He pets along its side with one hand, his other tugging on the sock, laughing the entire time. Finally, the puppy releases the sock only to start chewing at Auston’s wrist.

“I want this one.” Taylour gives it a kiss.

“Really? What about this one?” Tia eyes to the one curled in her lap, eyes getting heavy.

Taylour takes a second to glance between the two dogs, pondering Tia’s suggestion. She obviously knows just because a dog is calm now doesn’t mean it always will be, but something, most likely her motherly instinct is telling her not to pick the one already biting.

“Uhmmm.” He ponders. Taylour scoots closer to Tia to look at the puppy in her lap. “Ohh, this one is cute too, Mommy!”

“Mhm.”

Taylour’s eyes rapidly dart between the two dogs, and he appears deep in thought, but they both know he has zero selection criteria. A twinkle catches his eye, and his entire face somehow lights up even more.

“Can I have both puppies?”

“No.” Tia is very fast to answer.

“Puh-lease!” He turns to Auston. His move always is to try the other parent with hopes for a better outcome. “Please can I get two puppies, Daddy?”

Auston looks to Taylour, then to the puppy curled up in Tia’s arms sleeping, then to the one nibling at his wrist, and sighs. “I don’t think –“

“Please, Daddy! They can play together.” He eagerly cuts him off, desperately trying to bring home two dogs.

“Then who will you play with?” Tia can see the way Auston’s face is softening and knows she will have to be the one to shut this down.

“I’ll play with them, we’ll be best friends, all three of us!”

“I think we only need one dog for now.” Auston says dimly, but Tia knows if she wasn’t here to supervise, Auston would be bringing two dog’s home.

“No!” Taylour carefully climbs over the puppies and their toys to get to Auston and wraps his arms tightly around his neck. “We need two puppies, Daddy!”

Auston makes the mistake of looking at Taylour and sees the large pout and beady eyes, a cuteness barely rivalled by the puppy in his lap. Taylour falls to his knees and gets directly into Auston’s sightline. He puts his hands together as if he is praying, and desperately pleads with a croak in his voice. “Please can we get two, Daddy? Pleeeeease?”

Auston hates how his son knows exactly what to say and how to say it to make him forget all reason.

“Tay,” Auston sighs and prepares himself for the heartbreak, but he knows Taylour will get over it faster than Tia’s frustration if he gives in. “Just one.”

There is a groan that develops deep in his stomach as his shoulders drop. “No fair.”

“Look at how cute this little guy is though.”

Auston holds the wiggly puppy a little higher and hands it to Taylour. An excited yip comes from the puppy and a smile begins to creep its way back to Taylour’s face. “He is cute, Daddy.”

Auston reaches over and grabs a small stuffed pig and gives it to the puppy who wraps his mouth around it and starts whipping its head from side to side. “I want this one.” Taylour informs them without an ounce of hesitation.

Auston and Tia left Taylour with the puppies and found Sandra in the kitchen. They went over the paperwork and fine details. She gave them a bag with some food, a small blanket, along with a binder full of health information and veterinary records.

By the time they wandered back to the living room a few minutes later, Taylour had forgotten about his desire to bring home two. He was on his knees, heels digging into the back of his thighs, squeaking the pig in an attempt to engage the puppy.

“You two ready?” Tia walks to the edge of the puppy fencing, Auston’s hand on her back.

“Mhm.” Taylour enthusiastically nods. He stands up and Auston bends down to help him over then scoops up their puppy. “Thank you for my puppy!” Taylour addresses Sandra while making a beeline for the door.

Once Taylour was in the car, which was a task, he demanded the dog sit with him. Tia was a little uneasy about leaving them alone in the back, she had a feeling she should sit with them, just in case the puppy fell or wandered away and somehow found his way under a seat, but Auston assured her everything would be fine. He could tell she was anxious, so he reached over the console and laced his fingers with hers, then brought it to her lips and placed kisses on the back of her hand, knowing that would bring her to ease.

“What should we name him?” Auston asks as they sit at a red light, the steady sound of the blinker being drowned by the noise coming from the backseat.

“Rex.” Taylour proudly proclaims.

“Rex?” Auston probes with a laugh. The suggestion undoubtedly comes from the recent viewing of Toy Story. “I don’t know if that suits him.”

“Pickles!” He cheers from the back seat.”

“Pickles?” Tia shakes her head; she knew letting the almost-four-year-old name the dog would be a terrible idea. “What about Bernie?” She suggests in reference to its breed.

“No.” They simultaneously protest.

“How about Felix?” Auston pipes up. He doesn’t know why but the second he held him, that name felt right and it’s hard for him to imagine the dog as anything else.

“Yes!” Taylour promptly agrees. “I like that!”

Auston kept his hand linked with hers over the console as he drove the quiet Scottsdale streets. His eyes were mostly on the road, but he couldn’t help glancing in the rearview every chance he got, spending red lights turned around staring at Taylour and Felix.

The next few hours were somewhat of a blur. Taylour was eager to show Felix to Trevor and Fred. He had to FaceTime Mitch, Becks, Emily and Max,Sarah and Charlie, every person he knew. He never wanted to leave Felix, even tried getting him to come to the bathroom with him. He would lay on the floor beside him while he napped, pull him into his arms for pets, dangle a toy over his head, or run around in the yard, trying to get him to follow. Felix was a little overwhelmed at times, often quiet and reserved, unsure about the toys and people around him, but that didn’t stop Taylour. He was determined to be that pup’s best friend no matter what.

Auston found Tia in the kitchen checking her e-mail. Some Disney movie Taylour long ago lost interest in plays in the background, he uses the noise to sneak up in front of her. He presses himself into her and chuckles when she jumps.

Droplets of water fall from his hair and splatter on her shoulder, the towel that hangs loosely over his hips rubs against her thigh.

“He’s so happy.” Auston places a gentle kiss on her temple.

She peers out the glass doors to Taylour who is sitting on a lounger with Felix in his lap. She doesn’t know what he is saying, but he constantly laughs and places kisses to his head. Her heart is about to explode. She lets out a contentious sigh and rests her arms on his shoulders, aimlessly fiddling with the metal wrapped around his neck. “I’m so happy we did this.”

“Me too.” Auston tugs at her pony and tilts her head back, then places a kiss on her lips. “I love you, babe.”

“I love you, too.”

Tia is expecting another kiss on her lips, only Auston ducks down and starts sucking along her neck.

“Auston.” She tries to scold him, only to shriek when he grabs a handful of ass from under her damp bathing suit.

“I want to kiss my girlfriend without a little parrot announcing it.”

“I know.” Tia sighs, because he has been announcing it - six times so far. “But we should go to our boys.”

Our boys.

Auston loves the way that sounds and even though it’s only been a couple hours he can’t wait until their family grows even more.

“They’re fine, Fred and Trevor have it under control. “Besides, you have a boy here who needs you.” He rolls her hips over his slowly growing erection and carves his nails into her flesh.

“Auston.” She playfully swats at his chest, letting out a breathy laugh.

“I told you to add fucking me to your list of things to do today,” he growls.

His fingers trail over her skin, pricked with goosebumps, until they find the bows that are holding up the barely-there bikini bottoms. His fingers tangle in and he begins to tug, loosening the knot.

“It’s like 4 pm.” It’s a futile attempt. They both know it.

Having heard no reason to stop, Auston quickly hoists her onto the counter. The towel drops to the floor as he presses her knees apart. He gently teases his fingertips past the seam of her lips, sending a ripple of goosebumps up her spine.

She wants to give in.

She can’t help it.

She spent too much time without him, her heart (among other things) physically ached for him and his touch. She never wants to be without it again, never wants to crave his physical touch like she did.

Following the hitch in her breath, two fingers slide inside, and are greedily welcomed by her heat. She arches toward his electric touch and his mouth moves toward the sweet spot below her ear.

It barely takes two minutes before a slew of curse words roll off Tia’s tongue. The air between them gets sticky and Auston licks up her neck. She can see the bulge beneath his bathing suit, rapidly swelling as he continues to stroke her inner walls. Through the pleasureful haze Tia barely manages to get her fingers under the waist band.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Auston purrs against her neck, teeth nipping at her warm skin. Pressure builds inside her – everywhere – as Auston pets her silky inner walls. “I’m gonna bend you over this counter.” Auston’s breath is hot and heavy against her skin, fanning over her in hypnotic waves. “Kitchen’s gonna be so dirty we’ll need a hazmat team.”

Tia shudders. Her cheeks colour pink.

She wraps a leg around his hip and pulls him close. His left hand immediately finds her thigh and runs up and down. Fingerprints are left on her hips; bright red scratch marks decorate his shoulders. He’s hungry and he won’t stop until he’s had his fill of her.

“That’s what you want, right?” All thoughts disappear from her mind when his thumb starts caressing her swollen clit. Every part of her is consumed by him, and she struggles to even breathe. “To use my cock to christen this place, huh?” Her breasts bounce following every thrust, threatening to spill out of the stringy bikini top any moment. Little butterflies dance in her belly. She is barely keeping it together and Auston can tell. “M’gonna fuck you so hard a black light will break in here.”

“Mngh.” Tia chokes out, as if her tongue is glued to the top of her mouth.

“Let my friends hear.” Auston encourages her. He spits in his hand then it disappears, slathering his cock in saliva. She shudders when his warm erection nudges against her throbbing clit. “Cum baby. Show them how good I make you feel.”

Auston kneads at her fraying nerve as his breath gets hotter and heavier against her skin. They are so absorbed by the coil tightening in her belly, her release building and building -

“AUSTON!” Ema howls, absolutely horrified.

Nothing would get Auston to stop. Nothing, except his mother would get him to stop.

Taglist: If you are in this list you have expressed interest in the series (either through likes/reblogs or by asking). If it’s crossed out your tag didn’t work. If you would like to be removed or added to the list send me an ask:

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plussizeappreciationfics · 29 days

Note

Can I request Bill skarsgard x plus! size reader/ Tom Hiddleston so Tom and the reader were dating but Tom cheated on her so she moved on with Bill Skarsgard they got married had kids a whole happy ending for the reader

Sorry for the long wait hun, here you go!!

„Any last words? “, you whispered to your now ex-boyfriend Tom. The British actor shook his head in and bowed his head in shame, just having watched you back your final belongs all while your best friend was waiting outside in your car.

You couldn’t help but let out a frustrated scoff while shaking your head in disapproval. “Really? An hour ago, you had no issues counting all my flaws and reasons why you decided to cheat on me with your friend…”. Tom sighed and shook his head again, still avoiding your piercing glare by playing with his tall fingers. You couldn’t describe the hot and burning anger burning all the way deep in your chest as you continued to shoot daggers at your ex-boyfriend.

“Well, I hope that she was worth it. Look at me and tell me that she was worth throwing away our three-year relationship, Tom”, you demanded with a cold tone. Tom finally lifted his head and looked straight at you, a part of him felt sorry that he had put you through so much betrayal, pain, and misery, but his blue eyes also showed something else. Another emotion. You squinted your eyes and stared at him without saying a word.

“(Y/N), I am very sorry that I cheated on you, but what Zawe and I have is something else…Something better.”.

A lump formed in your throat that was almost impossible to swallow as the tears started to brim your eyes, but you silently refused to give Tom the benefit of seeing you cry and break down again. You had wasted enough tears because of this man. His eyes showed relief. Relief that he now could be honest about his feelings and continue his life with his newfound love.

“Zawe is worth it. I know this must be so fucking hard for you to hear but I want to set my feelings straight. I regret cheating but not the fact that I ‘ve found the love I’ve always wanted. I’m sorry that you’re not it.

Fucking hell, this man had all the audacity and no shame whatsoever.

You nodded your head in pure disappointment and pursed your lips, still trying to swallow the disrespectful words that were just thrown at you. You lifted the final duffel bag and threw it over your shoulder, just wanting to disappear.

“You don’t even deserve any final words from me. “, you hissed and with this turned around and left your once shared bedroom, waiting until you had left Tom’s house and had hopped into your car where your best friend already was waiting to comfort you. You couldn’t even form any words, she had seen the look on your face before waiting until you had put your seatbelt on to give you a quick hug, glaring daggers at Tom’s house and silently wishing him the worst.

Your best friend made sure that you were somewhat stable before driving away, wishing that she could take away all your pain. To have witnessed you losing the man you loved so much was also very hard for her.

5 years later

“Bill” you giggled and watched your husband plant gentle kisses over your swollen stomach, your unborn daughter kicking in euphoria as she loved having her father’s attention. It was about nine a.m., your two-year-old son was still asleep after having a fussy night filled with lots of cries but also cuddles and reassurance that he wasn’t alone and very much loved. You and Bill soaked the silence in and just waited for your little ray of sunshine to wake up and fill your day with laughter and silliness.

Your husband pecked your stomach a few more times and chuckled gently when his daughter showed that she wanted more love by poking her tiny foot out of your left side of your stomach. “Oof”, you sighed and laughed, wondering how something so small could be yet so strong.

“Hey, don’t hurt mommy, ok? She’s taking such good care of you, your brother and me. We all love her so much”, your husband praised before shifting his position so that he was lying right next to you, his hand now gently placed on your stomach and staring lovingly into your beautiful eyes.

You couldn’t help but melt away at this beautiful sight, your heart swelling in your chest as you felt pure happiness and peace slowly tingle through your body. The pregnancy was going fine, and you only had two more months left before your daughter would grace the world with her presence, completing your beautiful family. Bill was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

“I love you so much, (Y/N)”, your husband whispered and gently caressed your soft cheek, drinking in the breathtaking sight of the love of his life just lying there, looking like a goddess. Pride and joy filled his heart as he shook his head in astonishment, still not being able to comprehend the fact that he had to absolute honor of having you in his life, carrying life inside you.

All you could do was whisper that you loved him back while grinning from ear to hear. Bill pulled you closer and let his head rest in the crook of your neck, inhaling and humming in pleasure when your delicate scent hit his nostrils. You closed your eyes and just remember all the beautiful memories you’ve mad with this man.

How weird was it that just years ago, your heart got so destroyed that you had lost all hopes of finding love again. The days and nights you had spent crying yourself to sleep while having your entourage and the social media flaunt the relationship of your ex right in your face. Even going offline and deleting all your social media accounts didn’t help because you were constantly faced with a fact or sight of your ex enjoying his life with his now fiancé and their toddler. You had to quit your job, move away before the deep wound in your heart was able to slowly heal.

And now here you were, lying in bed with the love of your life and enjoying this peaceful moment.

“Mama! Dada!” the voice of your son rang through the room as your baby monitor blinked, notifying that your son was now wide awake. You and Bill both looked at the small screen placed on your nightstand with a wide smile on your faces. The little ball of pure joyous energy was now conscious and ready to turn your day upside down with silliness and laughter. “I’ll get the little man and prepare breakfast for us, my love. You stay still and enjoy a few more minutes and peace and quietness” your husband chuckled before pressing a tender kiss on your mouth, which let your lips tingle and yearn for more kisses. “Thanks”, you whispered before closing your eyes and laughing while your son starting singing a made up song while tumbling around in his small bed, already wreaking havoc.

-Emmanuelle

@ctrlszn l @baggyfaggy l @automaticdelusionstudent l @thefemfem l @ah-blossom l @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x plus!size reader #bill skasgard x plus size reader #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgård imagine

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whiskeynwriting · 1 year

Note

I can’t help but imagining jack and baby cakes getting a tiny little cowboy hat for their baby

This is seriously such a cute idea, omg

A Blessing

Agent Daddy Whiskey x Female Reader

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Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, daddy kink (what’s new), breeding kink (ooh this is new), lactation kink (this is new too!), talk of pregnancy, unprotected vaginal sex, soft dom daddy whiskey, very brief mentions of loss/death

◆

A/N: I'm so in love with him I can't stand it.

Not beta-read, read at your own risk my friends

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Daddycember Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

◆

In your opinion, there wasn’t a better way to tell him. After you found out yourself, it was only a matter of time before he found out, too. And you didn’t want it to be by accident, and you didn’t want him to wait. The moment just flowed so freely, his words sparking something inside of you.

“From now on, sugar,” When he looked up into your eyes, your smaller frame sitting snugly on his lap, you were able to see everything. Every bit of your husband’s love and genuine care on display. “It’s just you and me.”

Swallowing, you felt your anxiety fizzle through your veins, excitement and worry all wrapped into one. And he noticed your change in expression, his own now frowning a bit. “Well… maybe not just you and me.”

Almost nervously, he laughs. Feeling unsure. “What do you mean? Teddy?”

Your new puppy is already asleep in his crate, though it pains you to see. You can’t wait until he’s old enough to sleep on the bed with you.

“No… not exactly.” Giggling nervously, you sigh, looking down.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Jack,” Looking back up into his eyes, you take a deep breath, deciding to be forward with him. “I’m pregnant, baby.”

Immediately, the muscles in his face drop, a look of tender shock washing over him. Slowly, his head moves back, getting a better look at you.

“No, you’re not.” He says blankly, eyes searching your own for any sense of hesitation.

Smiling brightly, you nod. “Yeah, I am.”

“What, I mean, you…” Those warm brown eyes then drop down to your tummy, staring dumbly at you. “Really? Are you s-sure?”

Internally, his heart is racing, throat going dry as he processes this. I’m gonna be a dad?

“Yes, baby. I’m sure. I took like ten tests.” You’re laughing now, hands holding his cheeks to lift his eyeline to you. “I told you I’d give you babies, honey.”

“I can’t believe this.” All at once, his emotions hit the surface, a gentle wetness forming on his lower lashline. “Baby, oh my god.”

Leaning forward, he wraps his arms around you, face resting against your chest. It’s a tight embrace, forcing your body against his. He can’t even describe all of the emotions he’s feeling right now. Something between pride and disbelief and gratitude and love. Always so much love for you.

“How, how far along are you?” Chuckling, he shakes his head, kissing your covered chest. “Babycakes, I can’t believe it. I can’t believe this.”

“I’m not sure.” Lowering yourself, you turn, resting your cheek on the top of his head while stroking his hair. “No more than a few weeks; a little over a month, probably.”

“Well, let’s schedule you a doctor’s appointment, sweetheart. Let’s make sure you’re okay, that everything is ready.”

“Ready?” You giggle, looking down at him.

“Well, yeah! We gotta make sure they’re healthy, make sure you’re healthy. Figure out how far along you are and start planning. You know, I’ve always thought about a ranch-themed nursery.”

This time, a big-bellied laugh escapes you. “Of course you have.”

“Honey, we’re gonna have a baby.”

While the two of you have talked about kids before, he never really came to terms with the fact that it would happen again. Ever since losing his first wife Anna, and their unborn son Rhett, he didn’t think it was possible to be gifted such a blessing again. But here you are, giving him everything he could ever want, giving him the entire goddamn world.

“I’ll always be here, sweetheart. I’ll always protect you, provide for you - you know that, don’t you?” Immediately, worry consumes him, worry and determination. He won’t let what happened to them happen to you. You’re the most precious thing he’s ever had, he won’t ever lose you.

“Of course, I do.” Kissing the tip of his nose, you smile. “You made those promises to me on the day of our wedding. But I knew it before then, too.”

Your husband then sighs, sucking in a deep breath shortly thereafter. He’s holding onto you like he’ll never let you go. And he never will.

“I know this is obviously really soon, but…”

Jack’s eyes are on you as you speak, his attention unwavering. He can’t believe you’re his wife, can’t believe you’re going to be the mother of his child.

“Do any names come to mind?” You’ve discussed names before, but you’re wondering if any stand out to him now.

He nods, smiling. “You know I like Henry and Jasper.”

At this, you hum. You’ve always loved the name Henry, and have had a fondness for the name Jasper since he introduced it to you. “And for a girl?”

“Rowan or Violet.” Jack says firmly, “I love those names.” This makes you grin; you’d introduced him to both of them.

“Jack?”

“Hm?” He’s still gazing up at you, resting his chin gently on your chest. The expression on his handsome face is entirely lovestruck, in absolute awe of the vision of you. “What is it, baby?” His hands are caressing your back, fingers tracing small, delicate circles.

“I love you.”

“I love you more than anything, baby doll.” He looks like such a puppy right now, staring at you with an incredible amount of adoration. “I can’t believe you’re giving me a baby.”

Grinning excitedly, you whisper, “What do you want it to be?”

“I don’t care.” Comes his immediate answer, shaking his head briefly. “I don’t care at all, not a single bit, baby. I just want ‘em, want a little kid runnin’ around here that’s half you, half me.”

“Just one?” You tease, smiling. And you’re still running your fingers through his hair, heart beating profoundly.

“As many as you’ll let us have, honey.” He tells you wholeheartedly. And then he releases another breath, and quite dramatically. Dropping his head, he kisses your chest, more passionately this time. “Honey, you’re going to look so beautiful with our baby.”

One of his hands then retracts, sliding over your pelvis, thumb brushing against your lower belly. Truly, he can’t wait to see it, your stunning body growing from his baby. He can’t believe you want this; if only he knew how proud you were to have it. What a blessing.

“You think so, daddy?”

Something about the moment shifts from sweet to sensual, Jack’s mouth slowly moving over you. Mhm is all he says in response, mumbling against your chest.

“You know,” He then says, that southern voice growing deep. “I was wondering why you weren’t drinkin’ tonight.”

“Yeah, it’s because I’m carrying your baby.”

“Oh, honey.” Closing his eyes, he forces out a heavy breath. “Say it again.”

“What? That I have your baby in me?” It’s said in a teasing voice; you love how he’s responding to this.

Lifting his head, he captures your lips in a passionate kiss, one you return with overt happiness. Jack is absolutely overjoyed to hear this, all of it. And if it’s even possible, it’s made him fall that much harder for you.

“Babycakes,” Just like that, his hands are sliding down to your ass, gripping your firmly while he groans. Sliding his face over your clothed breasts, he coos quietly. “Daddy wants you.”

“Yeah?”

Now that you’re thinking about it, tonight was the perfect time to tell him - on New Year’s Eve, on the one-year anniversary of your engagement. You swear, life with him is like a fairy tale.

“Baby, come here.” Jack’s mouth has moved up to your neck, his hands securing themselves to the bottom of your thighs while he stands up.

Lifting you with him, he revels in the way you cling to his body, holding onto the sturdiness of him. You can feel the muscles in his upper back and arms, your own wrapping around his neck. Your thighs squeeze his waist, feeling the broadness of his palms slide up to your ass.

“You’re mine? Huh?” He asks, turning his head to kiss your cheek.

After striding down the hall, he nudged open your bedroom door, now lowering you to the bed. But his body doesn’t leave you, it covers you, crawling over your smaller form.

Breathing out a deep sigh, he gazes down at you, a predatory look in his eyes. “Say it.”

“I’m yours.” Already, you feel drunk on him, on this new feeling. Reaching out, you hold his face. And because of your compliance, he leans into your hold, coming down to kiss you.

“Oh, baby, let me love on you.” Turning his head, he rubs his forehead over your chin, a gentle and loving nudge. “Daddy wants to touch you.”

Right now, all he’s thinking about is the beauty of your body. You were a gorgeous thing before, and he never thought you could be more amazing than you already were. But somehow, you are. Somehow, you’ve managed to mesmerize him even more.

You let him move you, let him do whatever he wants. Gentle hands remove your clothing, leaving you bare while he remains clothed. He’s not focusing on himself, he’s focusing on you.

Jack’s strong hands run down your sides while he sighs, eyes trailing over your naked form. Immediately, he leans down, lips meeting your lower belly. He kisses you softly, humming happily, rubbing your hips while he does it.

“Baby…” He’s already being so sweet, you can’t wait to see how he acts when you really have a belly.

Reaching down, your fingers slide easily through his hair, Jack’s handsome face relaxed in contentment. He feels warm, touching you softly. To get closer to your skin he leans back, lifting his shirt from his body. And then he’s returning to you, face snuggling into the slope of your neck. His one arm keeps him up while his other lays over your body, keeping a hand on your tummy.

“You’re my girl, honey.” The curve of his nose slides along your neck, knocking your head to the side ever so gently. “Say it to me.”

Smiling, you lift your hands, holding the sides of his face. “I’m your girl, baby.”

“That’s right, honey.” He’s smiling that gorgeous smile, the one that made you fall for him. “You’re so pretty, babycakes. So beautiful, you know that?”

“Mhm.” Nodding, you keep your grin, melting beneath his praise.

“Then say it.” He softly demands, whispering into your ear. “Say it to me.”

“I’m pretty,” Jack grunts slightly when you don’t say it all, shaking his head against you. But it makes him happy when you complete the phrase. “I’m beautiful.”

“That’s my girl, my good girl. Say it to me, honey. Let me hear you say it - you’re my good girl.”

“I’m your good girl.” He’s never done this before, never made you repeat his praise. But he wants you to know it, wants you to say it until you truly believe it. Jack wants you to know how wonderful you truly are.

The hand on your stomach lifts to your chest, touching you kindly. He cups you, massages you, turning his head to press those plush lips to your cheek. And he continues, going on for who knows how long, making you repeat his wonderful words and feeling pride bloom in his chest when you say them.

You’re the love of my life.

Your body is amazing

You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen

You’re the person that completes me

“I want you to know it, honey. I always want you to know it.”

The love Jack gives you is on an entirely different level than the love you’ve received from others. It’s like you didn’t even know what love was before him.

“Mm…” He hums, hand dropping from your chest to rub between your legs. “Sugar, you’re wet?”

“Yes, daddy.” You’re nodding, whining slightly, heart skipping in its beat.

“You want me, baby? You want it?” He’s kissing your cheek again, sighing against you. “Because daddy wants you.”

Nothing would make Jack happier in this moment than to claim you, to mark your body as his all over again. Spiritually, emotionally, physically, you're his. And he is yours.

Your words allow him to move easily, shifting his pants off his hips and down his legs until they’re discarded somewhere behind him. Jack’s body keeps you down, the warm skin of his chest pressing into your own. This is when he finally meets your lips, his hungry and passionate. Your husband swallows every sound you make, every moan and high whine as he positions himself to slide inside.

“You’re so pretty like this.” His breaths are already hurried, speaking when he pushes himself into the space between your legs. “When you let me lay you back, when you let me take care of you…”

“I always want you to.” Reaching for his shoulders, you cling to him, walls stretching around his girth.

He’s moving so slow that it’s becoming agonizing, finally deciding to lift your hips to speed up the process. And it works, Jack’s punched-out gasp fanned across your face as he looks down at you, down at where the two of you connect.

“If you think I spoiled you before…” He says, grabbing onto your hip with a grin. “You have no idea what’s comin’.”

“I know you’ll always take care of me daddy,” Something emotional overcomes you, one hand lifting to cup his handsome face. “I need you.”

Instantly, he’s diving down, bringing himself back to you. He lets you hold him, both arms wrapping around his neck. Keeping his one hand on your hip, he begins a gradual pace, ducking himself into the crook of your neck to suck sensually on your skin.

“Daddy, faster, please.”

Already, you’re whining for him, and he fucking loves it, he always has. You succumb so easily to him. Since the first night you saw him, you’ve been addicted.

“Uh-uh,” Shaking his head, he keeps himself against your neck. “We’re gonna go at daddy’s pace. Don’t wanna hurt your body, baby.”

“Baby, I’m fine. I promise, I just, I want it.” You haven’t even had your first ultrasound yet and he’s already treating you like glass.

Dropping his forehead to your chest, he groans. “You think you know what’s best?”

At this, you whimper, his simple words putting you back in your place.

“You’ll do what daddy says, babycakes.” Shaking his head, he sighs, continuing to slide in and out of you at a gradual pace. “Don’t make me say it again.”

Your tiny okay daddy prompts him to lift his head, praise floating from his lips as he leans in to kiss you. Opening his mouth, his tongue slides against your own, tasting you with a sense of urgency. The way he moves his mouth is entirely opposite to the rest of his body. He’s still going slow, the firm drag of him along your walls making you cry out for him.

“Oh my god, baby. You’re so fucking sexy,” Jack is panting, his hips rutting into you repeatedly. And you’re still clinging to him, lifting your pelvis to meet his every thrust.

Sliding your hand down his back, it lands on his ass, pushing him closer to you, urging him to dive deeper inside you.

“You can’t do that.” Feeling your nails scratch down his back, he bares his teeth briefly, feeling a surge of adrenaline kick in. “I’m gonna cum too quick if you keep doing that.” He’s referring to the way you’re moving your hips, and the way you’re touching him.

“It’s okay, daddy. I want it,” Leaning in, you whisper to him, “I already have it.”

“Oh, honey,” And just like that, he’s thinking about the pregnancy, about how beautiful you’ll look with your belly. “Will you let me lick you?”

“Hm?”

His free hand rises to your chest again, gripping your left breast. “When these get big ‘n full…”

Those brown eyes then look down, gazing at your chest with a sense of hunger you’ve never seen before.

“Will you let me taste them?”

Fuck, you never even thought about that. It’s never been brought up before, Jack having any kind of lactation kink. But it makes sense, he does love your soft, plump chest.

“Baby, that’s so sexy…” Watching him dive down, he sucks your nipple inside his mouth, moaning. “Yes, of course I will, daddy.”

Just thinking about it makes him throb, his imagination pushing him to the edge. He can already picture it, your sensitive tits spilling from the nipple, leaking down your chest. It would taste so sweet, the milk dripping from you. He’d massage them in his warm, strong hands, squeezing more out of you.

“Fuck me, sugar, I’m…” Pinching his eyes shut, he groans. “Jesus baby, I’m gonna cum.”

You’re not sure if you’re feeling sensitive from your early pregnancy or just from the moment, but you feel like you could cum, too. It didn’t always happen, experiencing your high solely from his length. But the way he’s fucking you right now is making your body shake.

He bites into your shoulder, groaning, hips jerking harshly into the space between your legs. Jack lets you guide him, your hand on his ass pushing him in even deeper than he already is. With your other hand, you grip his hair, your body rolling up against his. The feeling of him spilling inside you is what does it, and it shocks you both, your orgasm riding through you in waves. And then Jack slides his hand up the bed, holding the back of your head and kissing the bruise he left.

The way he cums is something else; it’s like it has a different purpose now. Holding your body close, he wraps both arms around you, thinking about the life the two of you have built. He’s never been more confident that you’re the one for him.

Jack’s aftercare was always top tier, you’re truly blessed to have such a doting partner. After cleaning you, he brings you a clean set of pajamas, placing a pillow beneath your head. He knows your nighttime routine pretty well, so he brings you your hairbrush and a hair tie, watching you brush and then braid your hair. When you’re done, he puts everything back, returning to your side in no time. Smoothing his palm over your forehead, he kisses it, doing the same to your belly. And it makes you grin. He then jogs downstairs, grabbing your water bottle so he can fill it and also bring up some snacks.

“You wanna watch somethin’, baby?” Setting your bottle on your nightstand, he sighs, grunting slightly as he rounds the bed to get situated on his side. “Brought you some fruit and popcorn.”

“Baby, you didn’t have to do that.” Smiling brightly at him, your eyes dazzle with admiration.

But while you’re looking at him, he frowns, eyes narrowing. Darting slightly to the side, he looks at your phone screen, now grinning.

“What’s that?” He asks, nodding at your phone.

Turning your head, you look back at your Google search, cheeks burning from your grin. Looking back at him, you nibble on your corner lip.

“What do you think about a tiny cowboy hat?”

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