#and he always thanks me for spending my mornings with him and insists on cleaning up after himself even tho i tell him i can do it

[reilemon]

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊Cool Off₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

♡︎ pairing: Zayne x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎ cw: unprotected sex (oops), office sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, I think that's it?

♡︎ word count: 3.4k

♡︎ synopsis: what to do when you "accidentally" flash your doctor?

♡︎ a/n: I haven't written smut in like three years. So if you think my writing is cringe, just keep scrolling idk.

♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎ @its-de ♡︎ for reading and helping me with this

banner by @cafekitsune

You finally have a day off and you want to use this free time to run errands. However, it's also a hot summer day and you need to dress accordingly. After cleaning your apartment and stocking up your fridge, you have -

meet up with your friend

shop for some new summer clothes and bed sheets

doctor’s appointment

You'd just skip the last one because you feel fine, even during the hot weather.

But you know damn well Dr Zayne will not be pleased with you if you do that. And he's not only your doctor now (and a childhood friend), but an actual friend who you spend most of your free time with. Circumstances of him being your assigned physician, some other stuff that happened in the last few months, brought you so much closer that you couldn't help but develop a huge crush on him. And how could you not when he's so kind, warm, attentive, always makes time for you, funny in his own way... you could spend the whole day thinking of all the stuff that makes you want to be more than friends.

Actually, you might be more than just friends. Lately, you’ve been going on a lot of “dates”; visiting festivals, trying new restaurants but also frequenting your favorite ones, dragging him to the arcade… he’s started insisting on being the one to drop you off at home after a night out. Just a couple of weeks ago when you were sick, he came to your place and took care of you. Both of you ended up falling asleep on your bed watching your comfort movie – actually, he wanted to read his book but ended up invested in the plot and eventually fell asleep before you, tired from his shift and nursing you back to health. You had enough strength to get up to pull out a freshly washed blanket from the closet and cover him. You lied back down, finding comfort in watching Zayne’s peaceful sleeping face. That’s how you fell asleep.

The next morning you found yourself waking up on Zayne’s chest, your form enveloping his. He was gently stroking your back, waiting for you to open your eyes. You don’t know whether you were the one that latched onto him during the night, or if he’s the one that pulled you in; nonetheless, it felt surreal to wake up like this. You looked up into his beautiful hazel green eyes, and you just shared a moment of pure intimacy. Then you got self-conscious of him having a close up of your morning face, which made you immediately jump from the bed and sprint to the bathroom. So, he did manage to nurse you back to health in one day.

You really wish he made the first move already. With all the stolen glances, lingering touches, cuddling, you genuinely think he feels the same way. But you are also his patient, so maybe he feels uncomfortable starting anything, like he’s crossing a boundary and abusing his position as your physician? Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the first move?

Or maybe you’re just delusional and ovulating.

Okay, back to the present. You’re not going to pass up the opportunity to see your crush (this is more than just a crush, honestly) and you add one more task to the list

get some dessert for Zayne

And you want to look cute for him, so you opt for your new backless summer dress.

☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊

“Thank fuck, I look okay.” You murmur as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom of Zayne's office.

It's just before 8pm, your scheduled checkup. Both of you were too busy to hang out for more than a week, and you can’t wait to see him. You took this opportunity to leave the heavy shopping bags on the sofa, the bag with dessert on his desk, and quickly freshen up in the bathroom. It was so hot today, still is, but thanks to the dress you didn't sweat that much.

You exit the bathroom the same time he enters the office. You catch how his usually stern gaze behind his glasses softens at the sight of you.

“Hey!” You don’t waste any time and shorten the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a peck on the cheek.

Zayne’s hands stiffly hover over your waist, stunned by the enthusiastic greeting. You always have a big smile on your face when you see him, but you’re only this forward when you have some alcohol in your system. He doesn’t smell it on your breath now though.

“Did you miss me that much, or are you trying to coax me to skip the check up?”

You pull away with a pout and a blush on your cheeks. Feeling a little embarrassed, you go and sit on a chair across his desk, steering the conversation towards the dessert you brought him.

With an entertained smirk, he sat on his chair and indulged in just chatting with you, and making plans for the evening. He feels at ease now that you’re here.

Zayne cuts the conversation short to take care of some paperwork, so you entertain yourself with your phone, checking what cafes are open. You sit there in silence, not wanting to disturb him. The room is air-conditioned and you would think you'd start to cool down, but it's impossible to do so when your crush is right across you. You try to focus on your phone but your eyes keep darting between the screen and Zayne’s handsome focused features…his hand holding the pen… his long fingers...

“You need to ask me something?” Zayne peers over his glasses.

Busted!

For like a hundredth time.

You fidget in your seat. “Um, no. I don’t wanna disturb you.”

He closes a file and puts papers aside. “I’m done. Go ahead.”

You make up how you wanted to ask him if he wanted to visit the café on your screen, only to for him to point out it’s closed when you show it to him. Not smooth at all.

You nervously scratch your back, and that when it hits you. You didn't wear a bra today!

In your defense, of course you're not going to wear a bra with the backless dress and when it's so hot outside, and it would be okay if this was just a hangout, but the main reason why you're here is because of the check up! Well, now you're getting even more flustered and you can feel nervous sweat forming everywhere. Great.

Zayne's voice fades into focus.

"Is everything okay?"

“Yeah, let’s just go find a cafe that’s nearby!” You prop yourself to sit up and make a run for it, but the seriousness in Zayne’s tone stops you.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

You wave your hand “I feel great, you don't need to -"

"That's good to hear." He humors you, setting the stethoscope around his neck, eyes not leaving yours.

You engage in a short staring contest, but you never win those with him. You hold back the bratty whine as you get up and walk towards the chair. Should you address this? What would be more awkward – saying that you don’t have a bra on or just slipping off the top of the dress, flashing him? But Zayne is a professional; he probably saw plenty of breasts from other patients and didn’t bat an eye. And maybe he even noticed that you’re braless.

You sit on the chair next to him and Zayne gives you an amused look. “Good girl.”

It was like a reflex - the moment you heard those words, your hands slipped off the top of your dress. Zayne pauses, his eyes locked at the sight before him. Oh shit, did you manage to make the situation awkward after all? Just when you wanted to open your mouth to say anything, he blinks and proceeds to do what he’s supposed to do. You suck in a breath when the icy cold stethoscope touches your chest spreading goosebumps across your skin, making your nipples hard. Zayne's eyes are focused somewhere to the side, but you can see light redness peppered on his cheeks. The two of you sit there in silence while he checks your heartbeat. You try to compose yourself, take slow breaths, but your heart is giving you away.

When he’s done, he takes off the instrument and places it on the table. He clears his throat “Nothing irregular, your heartbeat is a little faster, but the heat is probably to blame.”

Right, the heat.

You hope that the redness, still on his face, and his ears, is not from the sun.

Again, you have two choices – do you pull the top up and act like nothing happened, continue the same ‘will they, won’t they’ routine – or do you want to do something about this, take the first step and find out once and for all if this infatuation is one sided?

You take his hand, making him look at you, ‘Well, can you help me cool down, Doctor?’

Zayne eyes widen slightly, switching between your hand and your gaze, only guessing where you’re going with this.

You gently place his cold hand just above your left breast ‘Is this okay?’ you whisper.

Zayne’s irises are almost black from how dilated his pupils are. As he gazes into your doe eyes, the hand resting on your chest travels up across your skin and lands on the side of your neck. He takes off his glasses, leans towards you, his lips a breath away from yours, “You’re walking on thin ice, darling.”

He grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you into a searing kiss. Zayne is kissing you like a man starved, like he's been waiting for this for so long, afraid that this moment will slip away all too quickly. His other hand wraps tightly around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing your chests together, feeling each other’s heartbeats. You moan into the kiss, surprised by the intensity of it and the desperation of his embrace. His lips are so soft and tender, just like you imagined too many times. The hand on your waist travels up to grab your breast, the sensation of his big cold hand on your heated skin making you gasp against his lips. He seizes the moment to lick your bottom lip, then slipping his tongue, yours quickly meeting it.

Suddenly, both of his hands land on your shoulders pulling away.

He utters ‘fuck’ (this might be the first time hearing him say the f word, and you’re embarrassed how excited it made you.) He holds your chin with thumb and index finger, ‘Do you wish to continue?’

You utter ‘yes’ and grab him by the black necktie locking your lips again. His hands find the top of your thighs, then sneaking their way down to bunch up your dress over your knees.

“Hold onto me.” He murmurs between kisses, and you oblige, catching onto his shoulders. Zayne grabs you by the back of your soft thighs, lifting you from the chair and placing you on his desk, so effortlessly and swiftly, like you weigh nothing.

Your fingers comb through his soft, thick hair, relishing in the fact of being able to touch it like this. His hands cup your face, distancing his lips from yours. You expectantly look up to see his tender, yearning gaze. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he kisses you again, this time softly, slowly deepening it, stealing your breath away. His soft lips move to kiss and nip at the side of your neck, his hands giving attention to your breasts again. He caresses both of them, and it doesn’t take long for one of his hands to be replaced by his lips. His hot tongue teases around the nipple. But when he starts sucking on it, while simultaneously playing with the other one with his fingers, a loud moan escapes your lips.

Zayne’s smirks against the sensitive nipple, “You need to stay quiet, darling.”

You were so dazed with lust that you completely forgot that there could be people outside his office. You bite your bottom lip and nod.

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, one hand bunching up your dress more and resting on your hip, while the one on your nipple sneaks its way down, teasing the band of your underwear. You feel his fingers slide down, rubbing you over your soaked panties, making you move your hips, craving more friction.

“Fuck.” He breathes against your ear, “You’re already so wet for me.”

The fingers travel towards the band of your underwear and tug on it, and you lift your hips to let him slide it down your legs. Then he stashes your panties into the pocket of his pants.

He catches you by surprise when he kneels down in front of your cunt, your legs closing on reflex, but Zayne grabs your thighs before they could squish his head.

He gently strokes them, "Let me see you."

You’re hesitant about it, but you remember that you took extra steps when you freshened up in the bathroom. Slowly, you spread your legs, lifting your feet to rest on the edge of the desk. Cool air against your soaked pussy sends shivers all over your body.

His hands rest on the plush of your inner thighs. His eyes are mesmerized by the sight in front of him. You almost feel self-conscious by the close-up he’s getting.

"Zayne –" You squirm under his stare.

Snapping out of his daze, he meets your eyes "I’m sorry. You’re just so much more beautiful than I imagined."

Than he imagined? The statement makes your cheeks even deeper red, your pussy more wet and impatient.

Feeling impatient himself, Zayne starts by placing gentle kisses on your inner thigh. The hand on the opposite side follows the same trail, his slender fingers stopping to tease your wet folds, the contact making you gasp and involuntarily clench your thighs.

"Relax, angel." His breath fans over your pussy, not making it easier but you try anyway.

The digits slowly glide over the wetness, bathing in your juices. Your hips flinch as his fingertips lightly circle your clit, thighs trembling as digits are replaced with his hot tongue. It glides flat over your folds, stopping to circle the sensitive nub. The tip of the tongue flicks over it, circles it, again and again, your cunt dripping with both his saliva and your arousal. His middle finger slides in, ring finger shortly after, curling to reach and rub that delicate spot inside you; he sucks and licks your clit while finger fucking you, and your thighs are now shaking, toes curling, as intense waves of pleasure course through your body.

Your hold onto Zayne’s hair, and roll your hips in the same rhythm of his fingers, chasing your release, "Zayne… I’m gonna–"

He locks eyes with you and continues what he’s doing; you come shortly after, covering your mouth with your hand.

Zayne helps you come down from your high, places soft pecks on your thighs again and stands up, pulling you into another breathtaking kiss.

Your hands frantically find his belt and start unbuckling it.

Zayne breaks the kiss, ‘I don’t have any condoms here.’

You shrug ‘Just pull out.’

‘That’s not very respo – ‘

‘Well, you’re a doctor; you can prescribe me some plan b pills.’ you innocently flutter your lashes.

He chuckles and starts taking off his tie and shirt, and you take a moment to gaze at the strong, chiseled muscles of his torso, his arms and those shoulders. Zayne, amused at your dazed and shameless ogling of his  shirtless physique, reaches down to unzip his pants, taking them and underwear off in the same go, his hard cock smacking against his shaved pelvis. You suck in a breath when your eyes land on it. He's long and thick, curved just right, tip glistening with so much precum. You hand wraps around it, stroking and feeling the pulsing veins under your touch.

Zayne’s breath hitches ‘Are you sure – fuck…’ He groans when you press his length against your slippery folds, teasingly moving your hips.

‘Yes… I need you.’

With those magic words, Zayne swipes all the papers off the table, grabs you behind the knees and lifts your legs further, and you lean back to rest on your elbows.

His dick strokes your slit, tip teasing the entrance, but you're so impatient.

'Zaynee-' you whine.

He closes his eyes, jaw clenched. Even though your ‘friend’ is the embodiment of calm and collected, right now he’s barely holding onto his composure. His flushed cheeks and red ears, ragged breathing are exposing how badly he wanted, needed, this and how he’s trying so hard not to cum right here before even slipping the tip in.

But he doesn’t want to wait any longer; with your needy whines spurring him on, he places his red cockhead against you, your drenched pussy making it easy to slide it in.

His leg muscles tremble, trying to restrain himself from bottoming out the same second; with shallow thrusts, he slowly slides it all the way in. He towers over you, one hand resting on the desk, the other cupping your face. His hips roll at languid pace, his hooded eyes never leaving your face, watching you adjust to his size.

As you get comfortable, you grab him by back of his neck “Faster, please…” You breathe. He leans down, locking your lips into a sloppy kiss.

He slowly picks up the pace, his hand starts playing with your nipples again, and now it's really hard keep your voice down. You keep breaking the kiss in desperate need to catch your breath, but moans escape your lips as well. Zayne grabs your upper arms and pushes you down further. His muscular torso pressed against yours, his pelvis rubbing against your clit.

“Zayne - I'm close”

“Try to stay quiet, angel.” he grunts, his eyes locked on your face, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He angles himself so his hand can reach down and rub your clit, and it’s too much for you - you cum a few seconds later and Zayne has to slip two fingers of his other hand into your mouth to keep you from screaming. You still whimper and moan over his fingers. He slows down to help you ride out the orgasm, and pulls out the fingers to kiss your lips.

'Is it okay to pick up the pace now? I'm so close.'

You only nod, unable to form any words. He plants a kiss on your temple and moves onto kissing and sucking your neck. Then he goes back to just looking at your face while he picks up the pace, your legs locking around his waist, pulling him even deeper. You bite your bottom lip, but at this point, you feel it's impossible to stay quiet. And now it's not only you who is making noise, but the desk, although sturdy, is starting to move and creak.

You gasp as he suddenly lifts you off the table with his big arms wrapped around your torso. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him. His hands grabs your ass and starts moving your hips in unison with his, his throbbing dick thrusting so much deeper, all the juices leaking down his balls and onto the floor.

You latch your teeth onto his neck to keep yourself from screaming while he’s panting feverishly into your ear.

‘I’m gonna come soon –‘

You meet his gaze ‘Don’t pull out.’

His hips stutter at your words, eyes widening for a second. He curses under his breath and picks up the pace. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, lewd gasps and pants interrupting.

His hands squeezing your ass in a bruising grip, he grunts against your lips, and you feel intense throbbing of his cock; warm liquid filling you up, sending shivers all over your sweaty body.

His slow pumps let his thick cum drip out, making a mess of his pants and the floor. You can feel how fast his heart is beating against your chest. The two of you catch your breath as your lips share a languid kiss, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies.

After pulling out, Zayne sits you on his chair. He kneels in front of you, caresses your cheek, his eyes full of adoration. “I never thought our first time would look like this.”

You lean into his palm, looking at him with sweet innocent eyes, “Oh? What did you imagine then?”

“I can show you later.”

#my writing needs to be hornier #guess i'm back to writing #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #zayne smut #love and deepspace smut #zayne x you #lads zayne

[harryslittlefreakk]

the pact part 2

summary: a look into your’s and harry’s life since the night of gemma’s wedding. the proposal, your wedding and all that yummy stuff 🤭

warnings: fluffy fluffy fluff, smut, breeding kink, slight soft dom!rry if you squint

wordcount: 4.7k

a/n: thank you SO much for all the love on the previous part. i honestly love this story and these two 😭 i don’t know how much I like this part, it feels too rushed but my brain is fried from writing. so it might be pure rubbish lol

part one

my masterlist can be found here . happy reading!

“Harry, get off!” you shrieked. “Can’t, m’afraid. Just want to love on you forever.”

“You can love on me forever, but right now we need to go.”

Harry had been totally insatiable since the night of Gemma’s wedding. He needed to have his hands on you at every possible second, staying close to your side wherever you went. Your parents joked that you were more like newlyweds than Gemma and Michal, basking in the glow of your newfound love. “D’you remember when I proposed to you?” Harry asked you, smiling at the memory. “Yes Harry, of course I do.”

It was the morning after his 30th birthday, and you were still slumped in his bed nursing a hangover. You’d learned quickly that Harry never does parties by halves, clearly inheriting the fun-loving spirit of his mother. Every surface of his house had been littered in booze and nibbles, every corner teeming with more famous people than you’d ever seen. Harry had introduced you to everyone he spoke to, his affection and love for you radiating off of his body. Anyone would have thought that you’d been together for years, not a measly 8 months. But you’d barely spent a second away from each other in all that time, never wanting to take your eyes off each other in case you lost one another again.

Harry had woken up before you that morning, insisting he needed to go for a run to knock the hangover out of his system. You usually went with him, not to run, but to sit on a bench close by with a coffee and book in hand, ready to blow kisses to him every time he jogged past you. You’d learn later that his run that morning had less to do with his hangover and more to do with the ring he had hidden in his nightstand.

He’d handed you a coffee when he came home, a vanilla latte in your favourite navy blue teacup. It was little things like this that made you fall in love with him. Every morning he’d make your favourite coffee, bringing it to you in bed before climbing back in with you. Even on the nights you were both too tired to wash up, he always made sure your mug was clean before going to sleep that night.

You’d sat up to take the coffee, pressing a gentle kiss to Harry’s mouth, when something oddly familiar caught your eye. A pristine paper napkin, blue felt tip in a child’s handwriting scribbled across it. Your fingertip traced across the writing delicately, eyes resting on the tiny initials dotted underneath. “Harry,” you whispered. His head was in line with yours now, eyes glistening with adoration as he looked over you. “I don’t want to spend another day without you,” he told you, voice strangled by the heart hammering in his throat. He was on one knee, a black ring box cradled in his hands. You set the coffee down with a shaky hand, brown eyes brimming with tears as you took in the sight before you. “My darling Boo, will you marry me?”

“Yes, H. Yes,” you nodded through tears, pulling his face towards you without even glancing at the ring. The kiss was deep and sloppy, so many emotions coursing through your veins. “Love you s’much,” he spoke into your mouth, taking your hand from his face as he pulled away from you. Harry held your finger delicately, his strong hands shaking slightly as he slipped the ring on. It was beautiful. A dainty white-gold band, delicately inscribed with H.E.S in the same child-like handwriting from the napkin. A glistening diamond sat in the centre, clusters of smaller diamonds hugging each side. It was exactly like the dream engagement ring you’d described to him months ago, only now it was sitting on your ring finger, a delicate symbol of the love you shared.

“Knew I was going to marry you from the second I kissed you,” Harry rasped, pulling you out of your daydream. “Felt so natural to me, felt like I’d known your body before.”

“Imagine where we’d be if you hadn’t ditched me for a decade,” you laughed. “A house, babies, a little dog. Could’ve had all that by now,” you told him, wriggling out of his grip and running for the door. “Can have all of that now, little Boo,” he replied, rolling over to watch you as you leaned in the doorway. “Not if I murder you for making us late.”

—

Your parents and Anne had decided to spend the day with you, your last day all together before and Harry spent the remainder of the summer in Italy. Your dad was already on the grill, ranting and raving about how his one at home was much better and he wouldn’t be blamed for any of the food being overcooked.

You’d chosen the same church as Gemma for your wedding, though it looked so different now with colourful ribbons and flowers covering every corner. There was a huge wildflower archway over the old doors, pinks, purples and bright blues dotted through. Bouquets were attached to the end of every pew, stray petals guiding you to where you’d wed Harry tomorrow. Though it was miles from home, you’d told Harry you wanted all your hypothetical children to be christened here, wanted to bring them here on holidays and for special occasions. The ancient bricks held the beginnings of your love, the crumbling walls housed your fondest memories. Your little cul-de-sac in Holmes Chapel was really the beginning of your life with Harry, but your love and friendship had been reborn here. Squinting up at the church now from your rented cottage on the seafront, you couldn’t imagine getting married anywhere more perfect.

Anne came up behind you as you watched the breeze roll over the church, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Not getting cold feet are you?” she asked. “The opposite,” you told her, giddy with excitement. You rested your head against her shoulder, sighing happily. “Thank you, Anne,” you said. “For what, darling?”

“For Harry, for everything. He has so much of you, all your best bits. You turned him into something really perfect,” you told her. She laughed away the tears brimming in her eyes, jabbing at your side playfully. “Save it for tomorrow, I vowed not to cry until my boy is a husband.”

Your perfect day rolled into a perfect evening, huddled up under blankets with your family after a day of chasing Harry through the waves and building sandcastles. “I can’t believe this time tomorrow we’ll be real family,” your mum gushed. “You’ve been like a sister to me all these years Anne, your children an extension of mine.” Your dad laughed, rolling his eyes as the two women gripped onto each other’s touch. He lifted his beer in the air, cheeks stained pink after a day in front of the grill. “To family,” he said, eyes wandering around the group in front of him. “To family,” you all chorused in response, glasses and beer bottles clinking together.

It wasn’t long before everyone retired to bed, needing to get a full night’s sleep before the long day ahead. You and Harry lingered behind, not ready to split off into your separate rooms. “Come with me,” he whispered, tugging on your wrists as he turned on his heel. You giggled, following him blindly. He led you back onto the beach, fingers tangled up in yours as you trudged through the sand, his hands guiding you around a corner of the cliff face. He pressed you up against the smooth rock when you were out of the cottage’s view, hands spread either side of your head. His mouth kissed down your jawline, nose nudging upwards to get better access to your neck. “What are you doing?” you laughed, back arching as he pressed open mouthed kisses to your throat. “Missed you so much today,” he murmured, voice vibrating against your skin.

“Yeah, baby? Even though you’ve been with me all day?” you smirked, hand slipping up the back of his t shirt to feel the warm skin underneath. “Missed kissing on you, touching this perfect body.” Just the rasp of Harry’s voice was enough to turn you to putty in his hands, never mind what his mouth was doing to you.

“Harry,” you whimpered. “Can’t do this here.” You tried to push him away with a limp hand, not truly wanting or needing him to stop. “Can’t do this?” he challenged, untying the straps of your bikini top. “Or this?” he continued, pulling it off your body and slipping it into the pocket of his shorts. He rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a whine from deep within you. He pulled your shorts and bikini bottoms down to your ankles, his cock springing free from his shorts as he tugged them just low enough to free himself.

He was so hard already, a result of watching you prance around in a tiny bikini all day, you were sure of it. The tiniest sight of your bare skin riled him up to no end, always trying to pull your top up or trousers down to get his fix. His fingers always found their way under your shirt as you slept, ankles always rubbing against your bare calves. He was always so needy for you, his touch and lingering eyes making you feel like the prettiest girl in the world. “Y’ready for me?” Harry asked you, reaching down to tap two fingers against your entrance. It was far from romantic, a lust-driven quickie on the beach the night before your wedding, but it was so you and Harry.

He ran his tip through your folds, collecting your juices before wrapping a hand around the back of your knee to open you up more for him. “So wet,” he groaned as you wrapped your calf around his hip. “For you, baby, all for you,” you whined as he pushed into you, the familiar burn tearing through your core. Every time he entered you felt like the first time all over again, your walls never fully expecting the size of his cock. Harry tangled his hand in your hair as he fucked into you, hips snapping hard against yours from the second he was inside you. His eyes were darkened over, scanning over your face as you moaned. “Let me see your eyes,” he panted, free hand gently grabbing at your cheeks and pulling your your head to face him. You gulped, his soft command leaving a knot in your core.

“Good girl, so good for me,” he drawled. “Want you to watch me while I fuck your sweet cunt.” His words were dirty, echoing through your mind over the sloppy sounds of your juices mixing. His hand slithered down your front, pausing to grab at your breasts before slipping between his mound and your belly, thumb rubbing at your clit in persistent circles. He was always so desperate for your high, wanting to hear you cry out his name from the very first thrust into you. Harry’s mouth found your throat as he bucked up into you, tongue swirling warmth across your delicate skin. He always found a way to give you exactly what you needed, exactly where you needed him, without you even having to open your mouth. From day one he’d explored your body like he’d been doing it all his life, hearts somehow connected even as he fucked you rough and dirty.

Moans were tumbling out of you now, unable to contain your pleasure as his thick cock, thumb and tongue worked in unison to bring you to your climax. Your hand shot down to grip at his wrist as your walls clamped down on him, entire body trembling as your orgasm hit you hard. “Fuck,” you cried out, head knocking back against the hard rock as you came. He kissed into your mouth, silencing your loud cry as his hand pulled back from your pussy, his thrusts harder and yet sloppier. The feeling of you coming around him was enough to push him over the edge, your already tight walls pulsating around his shaft sending a guttural moan tumbling from his lips. His come splashed against the inside of your walls violently, his mouth unable to form any of his usual obscene remarks as he thrust into you a final time. Harry stilled inside of you, forehead pressed against yours as he panted. “Better?” you asked him, chest heaving. “Much,” he confirmed, pulling out of you before stuffing his come further inside of you with two fingers. You’d decided to skip birth control for a while now, knowing you were each other’s one and only and accepting whatever may come. You pressed a kiss to the end of his nose, slipping away from him with a grin plastered on your face as you laughed, “see you at the alter, husband.”

—

You watched in the mirror as your mum pinned the veil to your head, tiny embroidered flowers cascading down your shoulders and back completing your perfect look. Sunlight streamed through the window behind you, the warmth highlighting every inch of the flowing lace. It trailed behind you, so thin and delicate it cast an angelic glow around every dip and curve of your body. Your dress was the perfect ivory satin, its square neckline and thin straps showing off your bare collarbones, ready for Harry to nuzzle into later. He’d always loved being cuddled up into the curve of your neck, his nose nudging deeper into your scent, mouth pressing delicate kisses onto your soft skin.

The shape of the material was simple, you’d wanted to keep it from obscuring the true form of your body. You knew how much Harry loved your body, and the way he adored every inch of you had made you view yourself in a new light. Your body, your face, your brain, it was all perfect for him, loved so hard by him that it made it perfect for you too. You were totally under his spell, his thoughts and feelings becoming your own. You wanted your dress to be perfect, for him and for you. It would mark the single greatest day of your life, and looking up and down yourself now, it was perfect. You’d known from the second you tried it on that this was your dress, the fit perfect even without any alterations. The satin was almost an exact match to Harry’s suit, the length sweeping the floor at the end of your long legs. You’d worried for so long that something would go wrong, something would break or you simply wouldn’t feel pretty. And yet everything was so perfect, so right that it was almost magical. You pinched the inside of your wrist lightly, needing to check you weren’t dreaming. It was all real, and all right.

You heard a choked sob from behind you, and turned to see Anne and your mum with tissues pressed to their noses, arms right around one another as they looked between each other and you. Smiling, you pulled them both into a hug. “You look incredible darling,” Anne told you. All your mum could do was nod, nod so hard her head was sure to come loose. “Come on,” you laughed. “No tears yet.”

“No tears yet,” your mum and Anne echoed, dabbing at their eyes to protect the makeup underneath. You called in your dad from outside the door, needing one last picture of you and your two mums before you headed next door into the church. “Smile ladies,” he told you, holding the little Polaroid camera up in front of his face. He looked over the little picture with sparkling eyes, one finger tracing over the sharp edge before he set it to the side. He replaced it with his phone, finger tapping harshly on the screen in a typical old man way. “One more,” he told you, shaking finger jutting into the camera button. He turned the phone around to show the three of you, you all immediately cooing over the picture. “Now get lost and let me walk my little girl up the aisle,” he told the two women as he pulled you into an embrace.

You stopped for a moment at the end of the aisle, fingernails pressing half-moons into the fabric of your dads suit. Sucking in a deep breath, you shook off the nerves and turned to face your dad. He was looking down at you proudly, blinking back the start of tears. “I love you,” you mouthed, unable to let any real words out. “Love you. You’ll always be my little Boo,” he choked out. “Now let me take you to your husband.”

The walk down the aisle felt incredibly long, like you were moving in slow motion. All you could focus on was the back of Harry’s head, one foot in front of the other until you reached him. The sun was streaming through the stained glass window, casting colourful shadows right across the middle of the tiled floor. As soon as you stepped into the light, Harry turned to see you. You’d desperately wanted to do a private first look, but Harry wanted to do it ‘properly’, see you for the first time when everyone else did. And watching him fall apart in front of you now, it was worth it. His bottom lip quivered the second he saw you, tears spilling out as his eyes trailed across your body.

He looked incredible, like pure sex as his watery eyes grazed over your body. It was like every time you saw him he managed to become more attractive. You’d been with him at each suit fitting, watched as his tailor placed each individual pin to fit the fabric perfectly to Harry’s body. But seeing him now, just a few yards away from becoming your husband, all yours forever, he was radiant. The ivory satin of his suit against the warm tan on his skin, his favourite Gucci loafers poking out of the wide leg slacks. His hands were shaking as he pulled them to his mouth, knees bent as he tried to hold himself steady at the sight of you. The way he loved you was written all over him, you could almost see his heart glowing as he watched you step closer to him.

“Hi,” you giggled as you took your final step, taking one of his hands in yours. His rings were cold against the warmth of his skin, the tiny chill sending you back down to Earth. It was like you’d floated through the whole day, heart so full you could barely focus on anything except the excitement leading up to standing there, face to face with Harry as you prepared to say your vows. The entire ceremony passed in a blur of shy smiles and giggles, commitments and vows tumbling out of your mouth as if you were on autopilot. Seemingly within one blink you were crashing your lips onto Harry’s before walking back down the aisle, hand in hand, buzzing deep in your core. You were a wife, Harry’s wife.

—

“Nearly 20 years ago, almost to this day, we made a promise to each another to wed when we were old and lonely. I lost you for so many years, my sweet girl, and my heart felt old and lonely without you. You are my happiness, my light, my home and my everything.

Those of you who know me well will know my all-time favourite movie is the Notebook. And if you thought I’d get through this speech without referencing it once, you’re mistaken.” Harry’s finger pointed through the crowd of your guests, chuckling at himself as he smirked. “‘The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds, and that's what you've given me. That's what I hope to give to you forever.’ I always imagined saying that to my future bride, though every time I imagined her I’d see someone that looks just a little like you. And as soon as I saw you again, as soon as I kissed you for the first time, every time I imagined her I’d see someone that looked exactly like you. I love you now and forever, and I will thank that pact every day for the rest of my life, for letting me come back to you.”

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house as Harry finished his speech, a proud toothy grin nestled between his dimples as he sat back down beside you, pulling your hands into his lap. He peppered kisses all over your face, mouth not even able to pout fully through the strength of his smile.

As you started to settle into his side, a soft piano sung out from across the dance floor. “Dance with me?” Harry asked, with the same boyish grin he’d had when he asked you the same question at his sister’s wedding. He led you around the table, thumb grazing delicately across your hand as he pulled you into the middle of the room. It was the same song you’d danced to then, Fleetwood Mac’s ‘songbird’. He held you close to him as you danced, stepping together slowly and carefully as if no one was watching. Your head was settled in the crook of his neck, your breath tickling against his skin. “Love you s’much,” he whispered, just loud enough for the sound to reach your ear. You felt so full you could burst, biting down on your tongue to keep the feeling from tumbling out of you. You wanted to stay like this, close against Harry, mind running through your love story, forever.

—

“Like what you see?” you asked Harry, twirling around in your tiny silver bikini. His jaw was slack, eyes trailing across every inch of tanned skin on offer. He’d been taking photos of the view from your balcony, the sun setting low against orange clouds over the Italian sea. “Come here,” he demanded, out-stretched finger beckoning you towards him. You untied the strings of your bikini as you walked, letting the tiny triangles fall under your bare breasts. The minute you were in front of him his phone was thrown against the tiled floor, crashing around somewhere near the glass sliding door. He untied the second string on your bikini, hands smoothing over your body as the material fell to your feet. He turned you around quickly, pressing you into the metal railing as he nudged your legs apart. He dropped to his knees behind you, tugging your thong bikini bottoms down your legs and groaning at the sight of you, folds slick with wet only inches from his face. “Anyone could see, Harry,” you reminded him, suddenly nervous. “Let them,” he rasped. “Let them see what I can do to you.”

His tongue was on you as soon as he spoke, diving into your folds without any warning. He lapped at you, collecting your warm juices on his tongue. “Perfect fucking pussy,” he rasped, words vibrating against your core. He paused to lick and nip at your inner thighs as your hips knocked back towards his mouth, already needing it back on you. “So needy for me,” he chuckled, snaking a hand up around your hip and smacking at your clit as he started to lick into you again. His tongue was faster now, stronger, spurred on by your desire for more. He got such a high from your pleasure, a giver through and through. His mouth suckled against your opening, tongue darting around you to collect the juices that were spilling out, before he pulled away suddenly.

You turned slightly, watching him as he pushed his shorts down his thighs. “Want you too much, want to fuck you too badly.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. The same man who’d written songs about eating pussy, the man who’d rarely thrust into you without making you come at least twice first, stopped short of your orgasm to fuck you. He must have been close already to cut his favourite activity short.

Harry lined himself up with your entrance, one firm hand wrapping around your throat to pull you closer to him as his tip pushed into you. “Want to fuck my babies into my pretty girl, fill you up so good,” he groaned against your earlobe. He’d been feral since you’d decided to go without birth control, the idea your swollen belly, everyone knowing who’d fucked you so good, driving him insane. It sent shivers down your spine, core heating up at the thought of carrying his babies and making him a dad.

He slid into you in one fluid motion, his hard cock already red and angry with desire. His hand moved from your throat to wrap your hair around his fist, tugging at the nape of your neck so hard you worried your scalp might come loose. But the pain only added a different dimension to your pleasure, the ache in your core mixing with the pain and spreading throughout your body, fingers slack on the railing as he thrust into you without remorse. His balls slapped against your ass as his hips knocked against yours, his cock so deep inside of you that you were sure it could be seen through the skin of your belly. The sweet smell of sex and airplane sweat lingered around you both, intoxicatingly dirty. “Louder,” he urged as you bit back your moans, “want the whole country to hear how much your cunt loves me.”

You couldn’t help but give in to his every command, so drunk on his cock that you couldn’t even care who heard or saw you both. You cried out when he tugged harder on your hair, voice deep with lust as he asked you, “who’s fucking you? Who’s cock is buried in your perfect cunt?” Harry, Harry, Harry, you screamed over and over again, the ball in your core bursting at his words. Your orgasm was heavy, your juices squirting down the sides of his shaft as you fell into the railing. His thrusts never relented, your limp body beneath him not stopping him as he fucked into you harder and harder. He used his free hand to pull one cheek to the side, watching with an open mouth as he fucked deep into your pussy, your thick cream pushing up and down his shaft.

“Want you t’fill me up,” you whimpered, voice strangled by the angle of your throat. “Yeah? Want daddy’s come inside you, want my babies?” he asked you, his deep voice hoarse as he held himself back from his high. “Please,” you begged, reaching a shaky arm around to cup the back of his neck, back arching as he slipped deeper into you. He pushed you forward, hands gripping onto your waist as he thrust harder and harder. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he drawled, cock twitching inside of you as you yelled under his touch.

Harry cried out as he came inside of you, his locked jaw pressing sloppy kisses onto the back of your shoulder. He continued to thrust every last bit of his come into your walls, hips jutting towards your core. He stilled finally, cock lodged between your swollen folds as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, head resting against your lifeless body. “You ok?” he asked you, voice soft, a sudden change from the dirty rasp he had before. You nodded, still seeing stars, too fucked out to say anything. He picked you up in one swoop, carrying you into the little apartment and dropping you onto the bed with your head at the foot. He carefully picked up both your legs, balancing your tingling feet against the headboard before laying down beside you. “Got to keep them up if you want my babies,” he smirked, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. You were in total bliss, fucked out under the Italian sun, wedding band glistening in the tiny crack of light let in from the curtains. If this was how you started your honeymoon, you’d be a trembling mess by the end of it. And you’d never have it any other way.

more here! 💖

taglist: @sleutherclaw @slutforcoffein @harrysolaf @opheliaofficial07 @dragonslayersupremacy @nikkisimps @michellekstyles @im-an-overthinker @fangirl7060 @indierockgirrl @palmettogal508 @thereunion1d @angstygyal @hannah9921 @harryshotpocket

#harry styles fluff #harry edward styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harryslittlefreakk #harry styles masterlist

[thetriumphantpanda]

where you want your gift, girl? | Joel Miller

Summary | It’s your birthday and Joel, knowing it’s not your favourite celebration, is keen to show you that it‘s not always going to be a bad day, not if he can help it.

Warnings | birthdays, allusions to strained parental relationships, food & alcohol consumption, smoking of (1) cigarette, no/pre-outbreak AU, gift giving, explicit smut, rough sex, choking/breath play, brief spit play, oral sex (F Receiving), safe unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, cumplay, literally just filth tbh, no use of y/n.

Word Count | 4.2K

Authors Note | Honestly? It’s my birthday today and all I want is for Joel Miller to fucking rail me to celebrate - we can’t have everything we want I suppose, so we’ll have to deal with writing our fantasies instead! Happy Birthday to me - Enjoy!

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You’d never really enjoyed birthdays. Other people’s, sure. The opportunity to treat your friends and make other people happy was something you’d always loved, but when it was you as the centre of attention, you almost hated it. The way people would train their eyes on you as you opened their gifts, the anxiety that you felt not knowing what it would be and whether you’d have to pretend it was the best thing in the world when you could think of a million things you needed above what they’d given you. It always made you feel ungrateful. Birthdays aren’t as exciting as you get older either, just another reminder of how far behind the rest of your friends you are, how little you seemed to have accomplished next to them in the same amount of years. 

It was no different this year, not really. Your mother had phoned you before you’d gone to work, asked if you received the card she’d sent in the post that had the customary $100 stuffed into it, before chiding you for not doing as you said you would last time you spoke and find a new job, something more challenging, related to that degree you’d spent all her money on. You sigh and hang up the phone before she can say anything else, a mumbled sorry that you were running late but thank you for the card. 

The only saving grace for your birthday this year was the fact it was a Friday, so you didn’t have to worry about drinking too much beer and having to go to work the next morning with a hangover. To their credit, your work colleagues had been quite nice to you - they’d pooled together to get you a gift card for you to spend on whatever you’d like, and Sandra from accounts had made you a birthday cake – red velvet because it was your favourite. Once everyone had eaten a slice, she put a Tupperware on your desk with two more generous slices in it, winking at you before walking away. 

“For your handsome boyfriend.” She’d said, giggling as she walked away. 

There was another saving grace for your birthday, you supposed. Joel Miller. Who had burst into your life in a whirlwind eight months ago when his beautiful daughter had spilled her hot chocolate all over your crisp new shirt in her hurry to get to the table so she could drink it. He’d been the most apologetic you ever thought you’d seen a man, helping you to wipe the worst of it off with napkins whilst Sarah profusely apologised next to you. You’d put a comforting hand on her shoulder, told her it was okay, and that you understood entirely, you’d have been as excited as her to drink hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. Joel had insisted on paying for your dry cleaning, something you’re pretty sure only ever happened in films, and when you’d phoned him to tell him it really had been a minimal amount, he’d asked to take you to dinner instead, and the rest really was history. 

He’s phoning you now, his name popping up on the front screen of your phone, you smile as you answer it. 

“Hello, handsome.” You greet. 

“Good afternoon,” His southern drawl hits your ears, “Happy birthday, my darlin’ girl.” 

God, he makes you so happy, “Thank you, cowboy.” 

“You want me to pick you up and take you for dinner?” He asks, “Tommy is gonna look after Sarah tonight, so I’m all yours, whatever you wanna do.” 

You think for a second, sure, dinner out is a nice idea, but it’s been a long week, and you think what you want most is to be at home with him, “You think you could grill me a steak and let me drink beer on your couch instead?” You ask, slightly embarrassed that this is all you want for your birthday. 

“If that’s what you want, darlin’, then I’ll grill you the best steak of your life,” He chuckles, and then you can hear him cover the phone and speak to Sarah, who must be just back from school, “Sarah wants to speak to you real quick.” 

He passes the phone and it’s Sarah’s sweet voice that greets you next, “Happy birthday!” 

“Thank you, honey,” You smile, “You looking forward to some time with your Uncle Tommy?” 

“He’s gonna take me to the movies,” You can hear the grin on her face, “I already heard dad telling him not to feed me too much candy, but he never listens,” You chuckle, “I got you a present,” She speaks again, “I gave it to dad so you can open it later.” 

“Ahhh you sweet girl,” You coo, “I’m sure I’ll love it,” You reassure, “And I’ll be there tomorrow so I can thank you in person.” 

“Alright,” She replies, “Dad wants the phone back, but have a nice birthday with him!” 

You say goodbye to her, and then Joel tells you he’ll be waiting for you when you finish to bring you home. It’s only two hours until the end of the day, but you struggle to focus on the emails you’ve got to answer – you get through as few as is acceptable before the end of the day, logging out at exactly 5:30pm, box of cake clutched in your hand, handbag slung over your shoulder as you head out. 

Joel is leaning against the side of his truck, arms crossed over his chest so his biceps are bulging in the flannel he’s wearing, he’s also got one of his ankles crossed over the over. He looks so casual but as devastatingly handsome as he always is. He slips an arm around your waist when you’re close enough, pushing his palm into your lower back to press your body to his, dipping down to press his lips to yours. He’s gentle with it, opening his mouth against yours so he can slip his tongue into your mouth, letting his tongue meld with your own, kissing you slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world. 

“Get a room, you two!” It’s Sandra from accounts. 

Joel pulls away just enough to laugh against your lips, pressing his to yours once more before pulling away properly, opening the car door for you to get in, pressing a light swat of his hand to your ass as you hoist yourself up into the truck. 

Once he’s slipped into the driver's side and settled one of his hands on your upper thigh, he starts the drive from the city out to his house. It’s a quiet drive, Joel’s humming along to whatever is playing on the radio, you’re occupied with looking out the window. This is what you love about Joel, that he’ll sit in silence, won’t feel the need to make you talk, it makes you feel comfortable, knowing that he’s there when you need him, but he’s not going to force you to speak when you don’t want to. 

He’s pulled into the drive in no time, picking up the grocery bags from the backseat. You try and peak inside to see what he’s bought; you’re hoping he’s got the ingredients to make those mashed potatoes you like, and mushrooms that he’ll cook on the grill too. 

When he opens the door, you’re almost overwhelmed by the sight that greets you. There are gold and black balloons littering the floor, with one bigger helium balloon, weighted down so it doesn’t float along the ceiling, set in the corner with big ‘happy birthday’ lettering written on it. There’s a birthday banner pinned to the wall, and a selection of wrapped gifts on the coffee table. You have a sneaking suspicion that most of this is Sarah’s doing.

You giggle a little as Joel presses himself against your back, kissing at your neck, “How much of this was Sarah?” You ask, following him through to the kitchen. 

“She blew up all those balloons before she went to bed last night, and she did all the wrapping, but the banner and the big balloon, that was all me, baby.” 

You press your lips to his cheek, smiling as he starts unloading the grocery bags. Two ribeye steaks, and just like you wanted, mushrooms to grill, and potatoes to mash. He leaves you in charge of watching the potatoes whilst he grills the rest of the food outside. Whilst it’s resting, he mashes the potatoes with enough butter to clog your arteries, but when you sit at the table, and those potatoes are in your mouth, you can’t find it in you to care - it’s your birthday after all. 

“Everythin’ alright, baby?” He asks, cutting into his steak.

“It’s perfect,” You grin, spearing a grilled mushroom onto your fork, “Better than sitting in a stuffy restaurant anyway.” 

You finish your food in relative silence. Joel insists on doing the dishes even if he did most of the cooking, before he’s leading you back to the living room. 

Joel sits you down on the couch, treading as carefully as he can through the trail of balloons to get you a fresh beer. He kneels down on the floor between you and the coffee table, taking a glug of his beer, before reaching across the table for the first gift, setting it in your lap. 

“That one is from Sarah,” He explains, “She made me promise you would open it first.” 

“Rules are rules,” You shrug with a chuckle, carefully tearing open the wrapping paper. 

When you pull the paper from the material it was wrapped in you feel overwhelmed. It’s the exact same blouse that Sarah had tipped her hot chocolate over, just in black instead of white. The shirt had been a write off from the start, the chocolate leaving a stain that even the dry cleaner couldn’t get out. 

“She saved her pocket money for months to buy this,” He murmurs, pinching the silky fabric between his fingers, “Said if it was what brought us together, she wanted you to be able to wear it.” 

You can feel tears prickling at your eyes as you fold the material up carefully, “She’s such a special girl, Joel.” You whisper, watching as Joel leans back over the table to pick up another gift. 

“This one’s from Tommy.” He murmurs, handing you the largest box on the table. 

You rip the paper off and open the box, revealing an actual cowboy hat. You laugh, because Tommy has always said in order to properly fit in, you’d need a cowboy hat. Joel reaches into the box, pulling the brown Stetson out of its box, placing it on your head. 

“Suits you, cowgirl,” He growls, leaning under the brim of the hat to kiss you, nibbling your bottom lip as he pulls away, “Keep it on.” He demands when you go to take it off. 

“He didn’t need to get me a gift,” You mutter as Joel moves the two final gifts towards you, “And it’s a proper Stetson, this must have cost a fortune.” 

“Not that it matters, because everyone in this household thinks the world of you, but he thrifted it, mainly because you’ve rubbed off on him and he thinks getting a pair of Levi’s for half price because someone doesn’t want them anymore is the best thing since sliced bread.” 

You tilt the hat on your head a little so you can see under the brim, as he hands you an envelope this time, “These are from me.” 

You open the envelope and pull out a postcard with a from New Orleans. You turn the card over, Joel’s handwriting scrawled on the back. 

“Pack a bag baby, and let me take you away.” 

“Are you for real?!” You exclaim, “You’re going to take me to New Orleans?!” 

“Course I am, darlin’ girl,” He grins, “I know you’ve always wanted to go, and we’ve never been away together.” 

“Are you even real?” You ask, wiping your tears away, because you’re overwhelmed, no-one has ever been so thoughtful. 

“Last time I checked I was,” He chuckles, taking the postcard from your hands, replacing it with the last gift, a small box, “Go on, last one.” 

You take it from his hand, tearing the paper off it to reveal a small box. You open it, and sat inside is a silver necklace, a silver hoop, entwined with a smaller hoop. You’d recognise this anywhere. You’d spotted it in the window of the jewellery shop downtown. You’d spend so long looking at it in the window before deciding you couldn’t afford it, yet here it is, in your hands. 

“Joel,” You breathe, running your fingers over the delicate silver, “This is too much.” 

He presses a single finger to your lips to shut you up, holding his hand out for the box, taking the necklace out as he pushes himself up onto the couch, putting the delicate chain across your neck, “Do you like it?” He asks from behind you, mouth right at your ear, breath hot on your skin.

You turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling your hat fall off your head as he returns the embrace, “I love it Joel,” You murmur into the skin of his neck, “I love you.”

“I love you too, darlin’ girl.” 

You spend the rest of the evening curled up on the couch together. You eat the slices of cake that Sandra had sent you home with, drink more beer, Joel even sits with his guitar outside, playing some of your favourite songs whilst you smoke a cigarette. When the sun has fully set and you’ve let out a particularly loud yawn, Joel closes up the house, takes hold of your hand, and takes you to bed. 

You’re led against the sheets, getting yourself comfortable, when Joel comes back from the bathroom, leaning against the door with his thumb resting on his belt. He’s lookin at you with those deep, coffee-coloured orbs as you turn onto your side, propping your head up on your palm to look at him. 

“How do you want it, baby?” He smirks, taking slow steps towards the bed. 

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, because that is a very good question. Do you want him to be soft and slow like he had been that first time? So concerned he was going to hurt you with his size and strength that he refused to go any harder or faster than was strictly necessary? Or the time he made love to you after you’d looked after Sarah when he had to work late. When he’d walked into his house and found you painting her nails for her, watching a film that he’d never had sat through, his heart bursting with so much love that he had to push it all into you, whispering promises into your ear as he did so. No, you think, that’s not what you want right now. 

“I want you to fuck me, cowboy,” You rasp, “Hard.” 

He’s stood at the foot of the bed now, eyes dark with lust, “Well, what the birthday girl wants,” He murmurs softly, wide, warm palm clasping around your ankle, “The birthday girl gets.” 

He tugs at your ankle, pulling you down the bed in one swoop, your legs dangling over the edge as his fingers work the button of your work trousers loose. You lift your hips up so he can drag them, and your underwear off your body, before he tugs you into a sitting position to work your blouse over your head. Your palms cup his face as you kiss him, your lips giving attention to his plush bottom lip as his hands reach behind you and work the clasp of your bra undone, dragging that off your body so you’re finally bared naked to him. 

He pulls back, trails his eyes over your naked body, before placing his hand on your chest, right between your breasts, pushing you back down onto the bed. He trails his hands down the expanse of your sides, coming to the meat of your thighs as he settles his face between them. Normally this is where he’d tease you, use that mouth to trail soft kisses up and down the inside of your thighs, stopping to nip at the soft skin every once in a while, but he surprises you tonight. 

Joel uses the flat of his tongue to lick a single stripe up the seam of your pussy. Then, he takes his hands, puts them on the backs of your thighs to push your legs back towards you, spreading them open further, baring the entirety of your spread, aching cunt to his face, before that tongue of his is diving into you, licking the slick that has been slowly gathering there from you, groaning at your taste. He drags his tongue up to your clit, using the tip of it to lightly flick at your clit, which has a quiet whimper leaving your lips as you tangle your fingers in his soft curls to keep his head anchored right where it is. 

You’ve never really known a man quite as enthusiastic about eating your pussy as Joel Miller. The way he groans into your cunt as he laps at you, the way his fingers dig bruises into your skin as he holds your legs open for him, it all adds to the way he has your teetering on the edge of your first orgasm of the night in minutes. You’re bucking your hips into his face, chasing that burst of pleasure you know is so close to you. 

You can hear the obscene sounds from him, the way he sucks your clit into his mouth, rolls his tongue over it before letting it go with a pop, or the way he literally slurps the slick from your entrance. It’s when he slips two of his fingers inside your slick cunt that you’re really done for – fingers stretching you open, a poor substitute for what’s to come, but it’s good none-the-less. 

All of a sudden, that fiery burst of pleasure is setting your skin alight. Your body is arching off the bed, pushing your cunt further into Joel’s face as he sucks your clit through your orgasm. You can feel yourself clenching around his fingers as you let out as high-pitched shriek of his name as your body wracks with pleasurable aftershocks. You lie there, warm and pliant as Joel stands once he’s worked you through your orgasm. He takes off his shirt, and you marvel at that body, the one you get to enjoy, broad and strong for his work, but soft around the middle, just like you love. He’s looking you directly in the eye as he undoes the button on his jeans, belt from earlier seemingly lost in the bathroom before. You’re smirking as he drags his jeans and boxers down his legs, stepping out of them, stood before you in all his God damn glory. 

He is, quite possibly, the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. Especially when he’s got his cock gripped in his fist, pumping himself as you spread your legs for him, pushing yourself up the bed so he can settle between your thighs. 

You can feel the throbbing length of him slipping between your soaked folds as he finds a position, he’s comfortable with. You’re the one that reaches down between you and lines his cock up with your aching core, but it’s all Joel when he thrusts himself inside you, right to the hilt, in one go. He’s leaning forward, head rested in the crook of your neck, your name hissed out into your ear as he adjusts to the tight clench of your cunt. Your nails are already digging into the meat of his biceps when he drags himself out of you, before slamming back in. 

He revels in the way his rough thrusts make your tits bounce, dipping his head to take one of your nipples into his mouth, gently nipping at the puckered bud with his teeth before soothing it with the pad of his tongue. He laves the same attention to the other, never once letting up the pace of his hips. 

“This what you wanted, darlin’ girl?” He chokes out, looking down at you writhing in pleasure beneath him. 

“More.” You gasp, hand reaching to grab at his wrist which is planted by the side of your head, propping him up. 

He puts most of his weight on his other hand, letting you drag his other palm to the delicate column of your throat, where the sheer size of his hand covers it in its entirety. He rests it there for a moment, continuing to pound his cock into your pussy, but then he’s adding pressure to the side of your throat, giving you that delicious dizzy feeling to your brain, before he’s releasing the pressure. You’re grinning up at him, moaning his name as his hips continue to slam into your own. 

“Like that, don’t ya?” He asks, “God you look so fuckin’ good with my hand around your throat, pretty girl.” 

“Always fuck me so good, Joel,” You cry out when he shifts his position slightly, cock brushing that sweet spot inside you, “Do it again.”

So he does, he squeezes his fingers around your throat again, your mouth dropping open as a crazed giggle leaves your mouth. You wish you could step outside your body right now and watch, watch what the two of you look like – his hand around your throat, the way he’s pounding into you so hard you’re sure you’ll be sore in the morning. 

You’re both breathing heavily as he trails the hand that was around your throat to grip at your jaw. He squishes your cheeks together, pursing your lips as his mouth claims your own, growling into you as his tongue licks at yours. He’s so fucking overwhelming right now, thick cock splitting you in two, strong body laid across your own, mouth on yours, and it’s still not enough. You want to peel his skin off and climb inside him, let him consume you whole. 

Joel pulls back, hand still on your jaw. 

“You my pretty girl, huh?” He asks, and you can only nod, his hand stopping you from talking, “Belong to me, right?” 

His hand goes back down to grip your throat, gently though, with no pressure, so you can talk to him now. 

“All yours Joel,” You purr at him, “Only ever gonna be yours.” 

“Open your mouth,” He demands, using his hand to gently shake you, so you do, “Stick your tongue out.” 

You do just that, staring straight into his eyes as he leans down, ever so slightly, and spits into your mouth. It’s warm, wet and utterly filthy, and you think it’s the entire reason that you can feel your slick dripping down onto his sheets now. Joel doesn’t even give you the time to swallow, chasing the saliva he’s just put into your mouth with his tongue, giving you the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever received. 

“Fuck,” He spits out, pulling back from your mouth, “Ain’t gonna last much longer, darlin’ girl,” He confesses, those rough thrusts slowing ever so slightly, “Put your hand on your clit for me, let’s do this one together.”

Your hand slinks between your bodies, seeking out that sensitive bud, still reeling from the orgasm he pulled from you, it doesn’t take much work from your fingers to have you teetering on the edge, but you want to do this together, you have to hold on for him. 

“Where d’ya want it?” Joel chokes out as your pussy flutters around him. 

“Inside,” Comes your begging plea to him, “Come inside me, Joel.” 

Your work your fingers across your clit a few more times before you’re coming around his cock, the nails of your free hand digging half-moon shapes into the meat of his shoulder. He manages three, maybe four more thrusts before he’s stilling inside of you, grunting out your name as the white-hot spurt of his spend fills your aching cunt. He fills you up so perfectly, holding himself there for a moment before he lets out a slightly pained sound, pulling himself out of your pussy. 

He sits back on his knees, watching the white trickle of him cum seep from your spent hole. He takes one of his fingers, scooping his cum on it before bringing it to your lips, where you suck it into your mouth, running your tongue over it to catch every bit of the taste of him. He falls forward, forehead pressed to your own, kissing your lips softly, before he moves to lie on his side of the bed. 

You push yourself up into a sitting position, leaning over to kiss him softly, mumbling that you’ll be back in a minute as you pad to the bathroom to clean up. When you come back to his room, he’s already under the covers, your side pushed back and waiting for you, so you clamber in, seeking out his torso under the covers so you can wrap your arm around him. He pulls you flush to his body, slick and warm from sweat, but you don’t care. 

His arm is draped across your shoulder, his fingers tracing slow and soft across your skin, as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Happy birthday, darlin’ girl.” He whispers to you as he turns out the light. 

“Best birthday ever,” You mumble softly against his chest as you let your heavy eyes closed, “All because of you, cowboy.” 

#Joel Miller #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller fluff #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #Joel Miller fanfic #Joel Miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #The Last Of Us #The Last Of Us HBO #tlou #tlou hbo #joel the last of us #Joel tlou #tlou fic #tlou smut #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic

[l0v3tast3]

This randomly came to my brain but, what do you think Gaz would be like as a husband?

GAZ BRAINROT !!! arizona ily thank u for reminding me of my love for kyle garrick <<33 here's some pure fluff, he's just so easy to write it for o(>ω<)o gaz is definitely one of my favorite comfort characters not gonna lie hehe

husband!kyle who always keeps a fresh bouquet of flowers set in a pretty vase on the kitchen table for you. it's a habit for him, like muscle memory. he stops at a little flower shop after his run every monday morning, right around 6:30, and catches up with the owner before he comes back home to you. by the time you wake up their stems are cut (just like you showed him) and it's sat front-and-center on the table, next to the breakfast that lured you out of bed. when you thank him with a sleepy smile as you plop into your chair, kyle smiles back and kisses the crown of your head before he sits next to you.

husband!kyle who wholeheartedly encourages you to exercise with him. you're into running? he's happy to go for as many laps around town as you want to (are able to). you're into weight-lifting? he insists on adding the weights onto your bar himself and is always there to catch anything you may drop. more into yoga or stretching? he is a gymnast after all, so he'll be excited to show you what he knows. kyle will be over the moon just to go on little walks around the block with you- he definitely uses it to get into pokemon go (and makes you get it too). and even though he's an active person, he'll still love lounging around with you.

husband!kyle who loves doing mundane, everyday things with you. cleaning around the house, laundry, running errands, all of it. he's had enough chaos from the military to last multiple lifetimes. the little things are what grounds him from it, you're the one who helps to ground him from it. while he isn't a man of many words, his thoughts are more than plentiful, so it's hard not to find appreciation for things wherever he can. kyle shows it in as many ways as he can, through flowers and keeping you healthy and accompanying you for however long you can stand to be around him. you are his beloved and he is yours, to have and to hold, and kyle will spend every day of his life proving that he meant every word of his wedding vows.

(ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ likes, comments n reblogs are always appreciated!!

#— lilly writes! ♡ #— ask! #— arizona moot! ♡ #maybe i'll finally play cod for gaz #i wanna hear his voice lines he's so funny and cute and snarky alskdjf #i luv him :((( #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #cod mw2 #kyle garrick #gaz #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x you #gaz x reader #gaz x you #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gn reader

[octoberclidan]

I'm Not Going Anywhere

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Request: Could you do a Dean x reader, where the reader is seriously injured on a hunt. She and Dean never really got along before, always bickering with the other. But she sees a whole other side to him, freaking out and concerned. Insisting on helping clean her up after the hunt? You’re seriously my favorite author ❤️

Masterlist

Story

[Y/N] and Dean Winchester did not get along. They didn't consider each other friends. To her, he was her best friend's grumpy older brother. To him, she was his little brother's annoying best friend. They just had a lot of friction whenever they were in the same place at the same time, and had for years. She didn't live far from the boys, and Sam would often invite her to the bunker for movie nights, food, research, or just to hang out. Nearly every time, Dean would either stay in his room the whole time, or make an excuse to go out somewhere. On the rare occasion that he would stick around, like he had to several months ago for Sam's birthday dinner, they bickered. Nothing big ever happened between them to make them dislike each other, they just had very different personalities. [Y/N] didn't like how closed off Dean was, or how he constantly sacrificed himself for Sam. She knew how much it affected Sam every time Dean threw himself in danger without just taking some time out to think. He was too impulsive, and never listened, or even asked for the advice of those around him.

Dean didn't like [Y/N]'s positive attitude. She always assumed they would win fights, that everything would work out fine, and he felt that this attitude meant she could be pretty careless on hunts. She had never faced monsters as bad as the Winchesters had. Sure, he had seen her take down werewolves and vampires, ghosts and ghouls, even a demon or two. She had never fought against an angel though, never mind Lucifer himself. She had never had to deal with an apocalypse, or God himself working against her. He felt like her carelessness would eventually end up with her dead. He also worried that her carelessness would eventually lead to Sam being hurt. He never approved of Sam going on cases with her for this reason.

[Y/N] was relaxing on her couch in her little apartment, a blanket on her lap, reading through a novel she'd picked up that morning. She'd had a self-care day; a nice walk, stopped by her favourite cafe in town followed by a little trip to her favourite book store, ordered take out from her favourite restaurant, then spent an hour with candles lit in a hot bubble bath. She was really getting into the story when her phone rang and pulled her out of it. Grabbing her phone, she saw that Sam was calling her, and she answered immediately.

"Hey Sam, what's up?"

"Hey, is now a good time? I have a favour to ask".

"Yeah sure, what is it?"

"I need you to go on a case with Dean". [Y/N] exhaled heavily and closed her book, setting it down beside her and sitting up straight.

"Why?" She asked.

"Well, he found this case and he won't pass it over to another hunter, he's insisting on going".

"I thought neither of you were going to look for cases while your leg was still healing from that shifter case last week?"

"He came across it by accident, or at least he claims to have. Look, I can't go with him with my leg, I still can't walk on it properly. It sounds like a werewolf, there were two victims last week found with missing hearts. Can you please go with him? No one else is free and he said he'll go on his own if I can't find someone to join him".

[Y/N] sighed before answering. "How far away is it?"

"Two days?" She could imagine his grimace as he said this. Two days in a car with just Dean, which also meant having to stop somewhere and spend the night, and she definitely wasn't willing to spend money on an entire motel room just for herself on a hunt that she didn't want to go on.

"You're paying for my room. And you owe me one. No, make that two. You owe me two".

"Thank you. Thank you [Y/N], you're the best. He'll pick you up from your place in the morning, okay? Probably 7am".

"Fine"

"I'll see you when you're back, keep me updated".

"Yeah yeah, okay. Night Sam".

"Goodnight [Y/N]". With that, she hung up the phone. Putting her book on the table in front of her, she pushed back her blanket and stood up; self-care day was over. She packed her hunting bag and left it by her front door, and set out her clothes for the morning before getting into bed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

***

Just before 7am, [Y/N] locked up and left her apartment, heading out to see if Dean was there yet. Spotting the Impala when she walked around the corner, she felt apprehension and took a deep breath before walking up to the driver's side. She knocked on the window and Dean looked up, and she didn't miss him rolling his eyes, when he nodded to the seat beside him. Walking around the car, she opened up the passenger seat and slid in beside him. "Morning". She said, but he just nodded and pulled away from the kerb. Several minutes in, she tried to make conversation again. "How's Sam's leg?'

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" He asked, not really paying attention to her as he was changing lanes. Trying not to let him get on her nerves too early, she took a deep breath and tried again.

"How far are we driving today?"

"About 14 hours. We'll be driving through a small town around 12pm, we can stop then for a quick lunch. There's another town a few hours after that where we can make a quick stop if we need. Should get to the motel by 10pm. We'll probably be doing another 9 hours or so tomorrow but I have a timeslot booked with the coroner's office for 4pm so we'll have to leave pretty early in the morning".

"Right, well that's a lot of driving. Are we taking turns?" Dean scoffed at this suggestion and glanced at her as if she'd grown an extra head.

"No way in hell are you ever driving my Baby". He shook his head.

"Dean, we can't do this case separately, we have to be a team".

"We can do the whole teamwork thing when we get there, not a second before. Now, shut your cakehole, I need my music to concentrate". He turned up the volume of the cassette tape that was playing, and [Y/N] decided it was best not to push him any further this early on in the day. She pulled up the hood of her hoodie and folded her arms, turning away from Dean and leaning her head against the back seat, she was going to try and get some more sleep since there was nothing else to really do.

***

Four hours into the drive [Y/N] wasn't able to sleep anymore. She had woken up to find that it was a hot day, no clouds in sight with the sun glaring in through the windows. She had shrugged out of her jacket and pulled her hoodie off, completely missing the way Dean looked over at her as her t-shirt rode up, exposing the side of her waist. She threw the jacket and hoodie into the back of the car before pulling her t-shirt down, and Dean swallowed and shook his head to clear his thoughts before focusing back on the road. With only about an hour left until they were stopping for lunch, [Y/N] pulled out one of the books she'd brought on werewolves. The book had originally come from the bunker, Sam had given it to her before her first wolf case a couple of years before. She had only been on a few werewolf cases since, so she needed to brush up on her knowledge and not give Dean any more reasons to doubt her skills.

"Alright, hope you're hungry". Dean said as he pulled in beside a diner. They'd entered the small town just after noon and had been looking for a place to stop for some food.

"Think they have pie?" [Y/N] asked as she reached over the back seat to grab her hoodie, causing her t-shirt to ride up again. Her question caused Dean to look over to her just in time to catch a glimpse at her bare waist again.

"What?" Dean asked after clearing his throat, [Y/N] looked over at him.

"I was just wondering if they'll have pie here". She said, then pulled on the hoodie.

"Oh... yeah, well they better". Dean cleared his throat again before letting himself out of the car and heading towards the diner, [Y/N] following behind him.

They sat opposite each other in a booth and each ordered a burger and fries. Dean flirted with the waitress, and [Y/N] was a bit caught off guard with his smile as he flirted. She wasn't used to seeing Dean's smile considering whenever he was looking at her it was usually with a frown or a glare. His smile lit up his entire face; the crinkles beside his eyes made him look kind, the freckles on his nose made him look younger, and his green eyes sparkled as he used a cheesy pick-up line. "What?" Dean asked, looking back at [Y/N] making her realise that she'd been staring.

"Sorry, nothing". She said and busied herself by looking down at her phone to send Sam an update. They spent their meal glued to their phones, not talking at all. They each ordered pie to take back to the car with them, and set off on the next leg of their journey. The next town that they were going to stop in was another five hours away, so [Y/N] took back out her werewolf book and began to read through it.

"Sam tell you about the case?" Dean asked about thirty minutes into the drive.

"Oh, not really, just mentioned that it looked like werewolves".

"Were you gonna ask me about it or just go in blindly and hope for the best like usual?"

"What do you mean 'like usual'? We've been on like five hunts together in total".

"Yeah, and on each of those hunts you were wreckless. Sam aways comes back from hunts with more cuts and bruises when he's with you than when he hunts with anyone else".

"Oh so I'm a bad hunter? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yeah, I am. You run into situations without thinking first, you don't watch your partner's back. It's dangerous to hunt with you".

"Dangerous, really? And how many time have you died Dean? How many times have you run into a situation without stopping to think? How many times has Sam died while with you? Because I've never died, and no one I've hunted with has ever died while on a hunt with me either". Dean glared at her, bringing up his deaths were one thing, but bringing up Sam's got to him.

"How about I fill you in when we get to the next town. No more talking in the car". He said, loosening his grip on the wheel after realising his knuckles were white from gripping it too hard.

"Suits me". [Y/N] angled herself away from Dean and went back to her werewolf book.

***

It was evening when Dean pulled into another diner, and neither of them had said another word. They made their way into the diner and ordered their food, [Y/N] ignored Dean's flirting with the waitress this time in favour of checking her phone to see how much farther away the motel was. It looked to be a four hour drive away, though it would probably be less with Dean's driving. She had been texting Sam throughout the day, complaining about Dean's behaviour, but Sam could only apologise and sympathise. Dean cleared his throat while they were waiting for the food, pulling [Y/N]'s attention up from her phone. "So the case. Two bodies were found last week, local law enforcement is chalking it up to an animal attack, but there was a witness who said they saw their friend being attacked by a 'monster'. Both victims were also missing their hearts. Like I said before, tomorrow when we get there we have an appointment with the coroner's office. I say you take that on and I'll go talk to the sherrif and see if there was anything else unusual about the scenes. We'll need to interview the witness at some stage too, maybe after the coroner's office you can do that, don't think examining the bodies will take long". He kept his voice down as the waitress came over with their food, and Dean wasted no time in tucking in.

"So you wanna do everything separately?"

"No, I'm just saying we'll be driving all tomorrow morning and most of the afternoon, so we need to get the interviews and stuff out of the way early. We can meet back at the motel when we're both done and hunt the thing down together".

"Why do we need to examine the bodies? Animal attack and missing hearts is plenty of evidence".

"Need to see it for ourselves, can't trust these small towns, you have to assume there's corruption and lies everywhere".

"Is that your motto for life?" [Y/N] asked while bringing some food up to her mouth.

"Look Sweetheart, this is my case. You're just here to help. That means you listen, you follow, and you do as I say. You have a problem with that, you can find your own way home and I'll do this on my own. Do you have any real questions about the case?"

"Nope". [Y/N] no longer felt like continuing the conversation, she just wanted to finish, get in the car, and get to the motel.

"Good". Dean finished his drink and made his way over to the waitress, presumably to try and get a number while [Y/N] finished up.

***

It was dark when they got to the motel, and [Y/N] was tired. She knew Dean had to be too after driving all day, so she was looking forward to getting some sleep. She was waiting in the car while Dean was getting the rooms, and when she saw him walking back to the car he did not look happy. She got out and gave him a raised eyebrow and he sighed. "Only one room. Come on". Dean grabbed his bag from the car and started walking towards a room, [Y/N] quickly grabbing her bag and following him. Dean groaned when he walked into the room and [Y/N] knew exactly why when she walked in behind him; there was only one bed.

"They don't have any rooms with two beds?" She asked, dropping her bag down onto the couch.

"They said this was the last room. I'm paying, so the bed is mine, you can have the couch". He said as he laid his bag down on the bed, laying claim to it.

"You sure you and Sam are related?" She asked, folding her arms and facing him.

"What?"

"He's just so nice, and thoughtful, you know? Selfless, giving, kind. A gentleman, some may say". Dean just scoffed and muttered something under his breath before sitting down on his bed. [Y/N] shook her head and grabbed her pyjamas, a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt, and headed to the bathroom. She decided that a shower would be good to wash away the annoyance at Dean she felt building up, and thankfully the motel had hot water. She washed, dried off, and dressed herself in her pyjamas before heading back out to Dean. When she opened the door he looked up, his eyes immediately drawn to her bare legs before scanning her body up to her wet hair, subconsciously licking his lips. She felt herself blush and she cleared her throat before walking over to the couch and pretending like she hadn't just seen him check hed out. She suddenly felt self-conscious in her choice of pyjamas, and pulled out a blanket from her bag to cover herself with.

"We'll uh, leave at 5am". Dean said and [Y/N] just nodded, lying back as Dean took his turn in the bathroom. She was asleep before he came back out.

***

It was 3pm when they arrived at the next motel the following afternoon, having stopped off for a very quiet and awkward lunch earlier. Luckily, this motel had two rooms, and they got changed into their FBI outfits separately. The plan was for [Y/N] to visit the coroner's office and check out the bodies, then go and interview the witness. Dean was going to the sherrif's office to talk about the investigations and find out if anything else unusual was happening, then check out the places where the victims were attacked. The coroner's office was beside the sherrif's, so Dean was going to drive them both there. When [Y/N] stepped out of her room, Dean was leaving his room at the same time. She couldn't help but admire him in his suit; as much as they didn't like each other, she couldn't deny that he was extremely handsome, especially in the afternoon sun with the way the light caught in his eyes. They were going to be apart for a couple of hours at least, something she was grateful for.

***

They met back at the motel later that evening to exchange information, and they were both certain now that it was a werewolf. The victims knew each other well, they were close friends, and, according to the witness, another one of their friends had been acting strange for a couple of months. They had his address, and they changed into more comfortable clothes before heading out. "You got silver bullets, and a silver blade? Or do you need to borrow some?" Dean asked before pulling up to the suspect's house.

"I have my own, thanks".

"That's surprising".

"I'm sorry, is this not the point where the teamwork starts?" [Y/N] snapped at him.

"Let's just get this over with". Dean sighed as he got out of the car. Once the two of them had all of their gear ready, [Y/N] went up to the front door of the house while Dean pressed himself to the side of the house, out of view of whoever opened the door but ready to charge in if needed. The door opened to reveal a tall, lanky man, he actually looked a lot like Garth except he had red hair.

"Hello?" The man asked, looking down at [Y/N].

"Hi! Mr. Lynch, is it?"

"Yes, can I help you?"

"I'm hoping you can. I'm a reporter working for a small news website, and I heard that two of your friends were killed last week in an animal attack, I'm very sorry for your loss". [Y/N] gave him a sympathetic look but the man looked uncomfortable rather than sad. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind just telling me about them?"

"I uh... now's not a good time. Sorry". He went to close the door but [Y/N] stuck her arm out to stop it and smiled up at him.

"I'll be around for a few days, why don't you give me your number and we can work out a better time?"

"Oh, alright I suppose". He said as she took out a little notepad and a silver pen from her jacket pocket. The moment he took the pen he yelped and dropped it, stumbling back into the house and giving [Y/N] an opportunity to step in and hold her knife up to his throat.

"Did you kill them?" She asked him, staring into his eyes. His hands were up beside his head in surrender, and he stuttered out his response.

"It..it was a-an accident. I-I swear!"

"[Y/N] there's a second one!" Dean's voice boomed behind her in the doorway and she snapped her head up to see another man growling at her. The distraction gave Lynch time to push her hand holding her knife back up towards here, nicking her neck and forcing her backwards. The both leaped at her, clawing at her shoulder and legs. She managed to plunge the silver knife into Lynch's chest while Dean had grabbed the second one. When she looked up to try and catch her breath, Dean had already stabbed the second man. He grabbed Lynch and pulled his body off of [Y/N]. She winced with the change of pressure, and looked down to see a lot of blood coming from both her shoulder and her leg. "Shit, [Y/N] you're hurt". He leaned down to take a closer look at her but she shook her head.

"Check the rest of the house... make sure there aren't more". She was still trying to catch her breath while applying pressure to her leg. Dean was torn, he wanted to check her injuries but he knew she was right, they could still be in danger.

"Don't move, I'll be right back". [Y/N] let out a breath she didn't realise she was holding as she watched Dean run up the stairs. Her leg was throbbing and her shoulder was stinging, she was never going to hear the end of this from Dean. After only a few minutes Dean was back, rushing towards her. He knelt down beside her and moved her hand so he could see her leg, then he moved his eyes up to her shoulder. "We need to get you to a hospital, come on". He moved to wrap an arm around her shoulder but she jerked back.

"No, no hospital. Just help me get back to the motel, I can stitch myself up".

"Are you serious?"

"Dean the nearest hospital is hours away, just bring me to the motel, please". She looked up at him in confusion, she didn't see any anger on his face, only concern mixed with panic.

"Alright, come on, I've got you". He moved closer to her and this time she let him pick her up. She grabbed onto his flannel, the pain in her leg striking her again as he stood up. "Shh, you're okay, we'll get you cleaned up". He had a pained expression as he looked down at her, the distress on her face overly evident. He opened up the passenger door and set her down on the seat before shrugging off his flannel and tying it around her thigh in an attempt to help stop the bleeding. She whimpered under his touch and he watched her eyes close, so he quickly tapped her cheek. "Hey, hey you know the drill, no falling asleep. You're fine, okay? You just need to stay awake for me". She opened her eyes again, looked up at him and nodded. Quickly, he ran around to the driver's side and drove them as fast as he could to the motel.

He carried her into his room in the motel and set her down on the bed, holding her shoulders for a few seconds until she had her balance sitting at the edge. "Can you bring me your medical kit?" She asked him, but he shook his head.

"You're not stitching yourself up, I'll do it".

"I can do it".

"I know you can, but I can do it faster since I'm not injured. Please let me?" He opened up his medical kit and set it down beside her on the bed before kneeling down in front of her.

"Okay". She grumbled.

"Okay, thank you. I'm gonna have to get those jeans off you to get to the gash on your leg, is that alright?" He asked as he pulled her shoes off.

"Yeah, yeah go ahead". She felt light-headed and it was taking all of her concentration just to stay sitting up. She had to admit it would have been difficult to stitch herself up, she was glad that Dean was doing it for her. She braced herself as Dean untied his flannel from her thigh and pealed her jeans off, wincing as the movement of the fabric agitated her cut.

"Sorry". He mumbled as he took out alcohol and wipes. "This is gonna sting, you ready?" He asked looking up at her. She had never seen such a genuine look of concern from Dean directed towards her in all the years she'd known him. She nodded and gritted her teeth as he poured the alcohol over the cut and wiped it clean. He was surprisingly gentle, and the pain was numbed slightly as she was distracted by the concentration on his face. He took out a needle and thread from a suture kit and got to work. The cut was deep but it wasn't very long, so Dean didn't take very long to stitch it up. He applied a bandage to it before looking back up at her. "Let's have a look at that shoulder". He helped her take off the hoodie she was wearing along with her t-shirt, leaving her sitting on the bed in her underwear. Noticing that she seemed uncomfortable, Dean made his way over to his bag quickly and pulled out a pair of sweatpants. "Uh, you can wear these, since your leg is done".

She smiled and mumbled a 'thanks' to him as he helped her get into them, rolling them up at the bottom since they were too long. Dean patched up her shoulder and also cleaned the little nick on her neck before closing up his medical kit and grabbing a spare t-shirt from his bag, which he also helped her into.

"You're a good patient". He chuckled as he sat down beside her.

"You're pretty good at cleaning up injuries".

"Lot's of practice". He shrugged. "You uh, you were good out there today". She looked at him for any hint of sarcasm but she couldn't find any. Noticing her confused expression he elaborated. "We weren't expecting two, but you were good with that Lynch guy, I mean you got him while they were both attacking you. I'm impressed".

"I'd be dead if you weren't there".

"I guess I'd be dead too if Sam hadn't insisted you come with me. This was definitely a two person case".

She had an urge to ask him why he was suddenly being nice to her, but she didn't want to push him. "Yeah, well, I'm glad it's over and we're both okay. I'll see you in the morning?" Shs asked as she went to stand up. Immediately realising it was a bad idea when she put her weight on her cut leg, she lost her balance.

"Woah, where are you trying to go?" Dean caught her as she fell backwards onto the bed.

"My room?"

"You should stay in here tonight, let me keep an eye on those wounds. That cut on your leg is pretty deep, I want to make sure it doesn't bleed through the bandage".

"Where am I going to sleep?" She asked, looking around the room and noticing that there was no couch, just a chair and the bed, and there wasn't exactly enough floor space for either of them to fit on.

"You've never shared a bed with Sam while out on hunts?" He asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Oh, well, yeah I have, but he's my best friend". She felt her cheeks heat up at the thought of sharing a bed with Dean.

"Well, I don't snore as much as he does". He winked at her and on a whim, leaned his hand over to pat her not-damaged thigh. When he didn't take his hand back, [Y/N] also went out on a whim and leaned towards him more, chancing a glance down at his lips knowing he would see her do it. Taking her hint, he leaned in the rest of the way and pressed his lips to hers. Her hand slid up his chest and into the short hair on the top of his neck, while his grip on her thigh tightened and he moved his other hand to her waist. He licked her lower lip and she let him in straight away, deepening the kiss. Her free hand made its way to his bicep, feeling just how strong he was as the hand he had on her waist slipped under her shirt. She felt him smile into the kiss before he pulled away and leaned his forehead on hers.

"What was that for?" She asked, keeping her eyes closed.

"You scared me today, I thought I'd lost you". He said as his thumb stroked her waist.

"Would you really care if you had?"

"Would you care if you'd lost me?" He asked, and she didn't respond straight away.

"Yeah, I would. I care about you, Dean. You've never let me in though, you've shut me out since the day Sam introduced us".

"I shut everyone out. Everyone I love ends up dead eventually". She opened her eyes and saw that his were still closed, and she saw a tear escape from one of them.

"I'm not going anywhere". She whispered to him as she wiped his tear away, causing him to open his eyes and stare back into hers. "Come on, help me into bed". She smiled at him and he nodded, letting go of her to stand up and pull the covers back. He helped her slide in before getting in beside her. He lay on his back and opened his arms for her to lay her head on his chest, while he pulled her in tight, careful not to put any pressure on her shoulder. He kissed the top of her head as she yawned. "I'm not going anywhere". She repeated. With her now safe in his arms, he was actually looking forward to the two day drive back home.

The end.

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester fluff #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester comfort #sam winchester #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester supernatural #dean angst #dean fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction #spn fluff #spn reader insert #spn fanfic #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn #injured reader #comfort

[desafinado]

Damnn i like s/o wife hcs so much can you do the same to zhongli and diluc👉🏻👈🏻 also hope you have nice day

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 happily ever afters (?)

°｡⋆ zhongli, diluc, kazuha x reader (separately)

°｡⋆ suggestive like literally the word, sickening fluff once again

note: ofc, and thank you, hope your days are well too. added kazuha bc while i’m here, might as well… i'm glad y'all like the first one, and if there’s anyone else you’d like to see, don’t hesitate to leave an ask!! also... depending on whether i got the courage to post it alr, a 50 followers celebration is coming up, (its here!!) so feel free to join in ^^

(alhaitham, ayato) | (zhongli, diluc, kazuha)

zhongli ♡

all his years on teyvat, and you’d think he’d get used to all of the beauty it has to offer… but you still catch him off guard when you boop his nose first thing in the morning.

though he couldn’t have asked for a better way to wake up, it gives him the perfect excuse to shower you with kisses.

i feel like he’d easily slip into the so called “married life” as well as being the perfect husband (or as i like to say, malewife)

he cooks, he cleans, he makes you feel all warm inside…

he even visits during work, or vice-versa. you both have lunch with whatever he had initially packed just for you (you insist for him to join you).

on the less busy days, you both might even go for a walk by liyue harbor, taking in the stunning view of the ocean amidst the work on the docks

another spot you both would frequent is the path to the golden house, which might be a harder trek, but the views of the mountains as well as the history scattered around is very much worth it.

early on in your relationship, he already took note of your affection for certain dishes, so now he knows which ones to cook when you come home feeling celebratory, fatigued, frustrated, or just sad.

he lulls you to sleep (cuddled together ofc) with some old liyue tales and folklore, forehead kisses every now and then.

expect a lot of road trips along liyue or even to other nations. he wants to experience teyvat, now that he isn’t very preoccupied being an archon, and he wants to experience it with you.

even if it's just for a weekend, he makes sure that it’s something you’ll both treasure.

while on these trips, your favorite pastime is just taking candid pictures of him; they either turn out absolutely stunning and jaw dropping…or just plain goofy

“hehehe…” “what are you giggling about, my love?… oh. wonderful picture nonetheless ,my darling, though i apologize you caught me at a bad moment.”

you sighing at him in content, as he recounts his own experiences about the location you’re both visiting.

since, he’s always recounting to you his experiences in the past, you make it a point to introduce to all the newer advances in the world… whether it be technology or gastronomical breakthroughs

“so you’re saying… they put a whole dango in this milk? and people drink it? that doesn’t sound very…” “healthy? yup, but the raiden shogun herself approves of it so…”

though it might not suit his tastes or its emergence into culture, he’s happy trying whatever you have to offer him.

you’ll also tell him the history and cultures from your own homeland! he’s gets very excited about it, because he’s always up for learning something new, especially when it’s something near and dear to you.

he just wants to spend as much time as he can with you; he of all people knows how short human life can be. he’s willing to spend it making sure you’ve lived a good one.

he’s been more silent than usual; you’ve been talking for a good 20 minutes now. he’d usually ask you questions or share his own insights from your sharing, but he’s been totally silent, only giving nods of affirmation. you pause your ramblings for a moment to check on him.

“dear? you haven’t spoken this entire time, i have to admit it is quite strange.”

he exhales softly, shaking his head.

“does it make you uneasy? i apologize, i was just… captivated by you.”

a blush spreads from your cheek to your entire face; he never did fail at making you feel like a middle-schooler with a crush. you hit his chest playfully, trying to play off your flustered state. he just giggles, admiring you under the golden sunset.

“zhongli!”

“it is only the truth, my love. it seems that everyday my love for you only grows stronger.”

diluc ♡

you’ve never seen lovesick, until you see diluc come home everyday to collapse in your arms.

he’ll often rant about rowdy patrons at the tavern or pompous businessman he had to meet that day, you just try to get him to a better place… or at least you try to.

“he annoyed me to hell, darling. he acted like he owned the place…” “but you do, dear. next time, you should just kick him out. don’t they know they’re keeping you from me?”

his embarrassed state is something he only lets you see… and well, cause. it just baffles him that you'd go to such lengths or say such things to demonstrate your love for him.

when you both have a day off, you both spend it around the estate, enjoying each other’s presence.

reading books in the library, baking a batch of cookies, picking grapes or braiding his hair. he absolutely craves these moments of normalcy, and you’re happy spending it with him.

braiding his hair is especially fun, because it gives you the opportunity to run a hand through his soft locks. you also steal a kiss or two on his neck.

if you two have a day or night out on the town, you can be sure that he might hold your hand a bit tighter or rest an arm around your shoulder the entire time.

it’s not that he’s necessarily jealous, but it's a small reminder for him that whatever he can face, he can face it with you.

so if a certain knight comes along, teasing him, he doesn’t feel at all embarrassed, because his love for you is nothing to be ashamed of.

but back to coming home, it's especially satisfying after spending a day with you. it’s a good kind of tired, the tiredness you’d feel from an overload of serotonin.

if he decides to go on some darknight hero business, you’ll be there to see him off and make sure he’s ready for whatever he might come across.

he’s even discovered a snack bar or two in his coat pocket.

bloody, bruised, or unscathed, you’ll be there to welcome him home. he’s told you to go on and sleep without him, but you’ve refused every time.

the first time he found you, he felt the guilt go straight to his head. you assured him you were fine though, and you’d only feel sorry if he wasn’t the last thing you saw before you slept.

if time and fatigue truly forbids it, you’re sure to find him in morning light, his arms around you.

he never wants you to worry over him… more than you already do.

to him, you’re the only thing worth coming home for, the only reason he’d want to come home in one piece. between all the loud crowds causing him a headache or bloody battles he’s fought, he imagines you waiting for him at the place he knows as home.

“oh my god.”

his voice is deep and almost shaky, seeing you reading a book and sitting at the edge of your shared bed. the sun was set to rise in an hour or so, but here you were, waiting for his arrival. he dropped whatever he was holding, not caring for the loud thump it made; he immediately brought his arms around you, the both of you softly falling to the bed.

“d-did you wait this long for me? you didn’t have to… i’m so-”

“diluc.”

you bring a palm to his cheek, guiding his gaze towards you. your eyes did look sleepy, but a lazy yet bright smile ran across your face.

“it doesn’t matter, my dear. i’m just happy you’re home, here, with me. that’s all that ever matters.”

kazuha ♡

you both compromised on a long distance relationship for the majority of your relationship, but when marriage came up, you knew you couldn’t keep it that way.

rather than him having to come visit you every few months, he gradually stayed longer and longer, until he truly did live in your own home… or well, both your home.

that didn’t stop his wandering ways though, in fact, he had a newfound goal to show you everything he had seen.

expect him to be taking up all your vacation days, planning a thorough and perfectly personalized itinerary.

if time allows it, you’ll even travel for a month or so, just wandering around, before coming back home.

when kazuha came back home, you’d always be there and make him feel at him. he was literally coming back from a long-winded journey after all.

he wanted to do the same for you, so he’d push through his fatigue to take care of you once you both return. he’d run you a bath and make some comfort food to help you relax.

sleeping in until tomorrow afternoon, your bodies lazily entangled with one another. if you even try to get up, he’s quick to pull you back down, encouraging you to rest.

“i’m not that tired anymore…” “hmm, well i still am, very much.” “okay, then let-” “i need you here though, else i’ll never get up.”

you know he’s exaggerating and simply being clingy, but maybe you should indulge him, as well as yourself.

when it’s back to business, you can expect him to be taking care of the house. he’s already decorated it in trophies and memories he’s brought back from his own adventures, but he focuses on showcasing the memories you and him have had.

he’ll also be passing time, writing poems about his life with you, or just you. you are his muse, after all.

the moment you come home, you can expect him to be clinging on to you, as if letting you go would mean that he would lose you.

after one particularly long day (you left without giving him kisses :( rip ), he just carried you in his arms to your shared bedroom. he didn’t let you leave until he showed you just how much he missed you (kisses and cuddles or something more suggestive oh my).

or you know, he’ll just tell you with all the poems he’s thought up while you were gone… maybe even through song, if he’s feeling especially heartstruck.

he realizes how you must’ve felt when he went on those months long journeys, so he’s trying to make up for it now.

he realizes how much he’s been missing you too, all those nights he spent alone feeling like something was missing… it was you.

“that was beautiful, ‘zuha.”

your head is snug against his chest, and your voices are pronounced against the night breeze, river splashing and crickets chirping. the tent kazuha pitched gives you the privacy you two very much deserve.

“the poem? the view? or… could you possibly even be talking about me?”

he smirks at his last suggestion, you can only giggle softly. you snuggle deeper against his touch, trying to etch this moment in your head.

“all of it, beloved. everything about you is beautiful. i…”

he only shakes his head, giggling right back at you. he welcomes your closeness, resting his head on your shoulder.

“all i do, all i see, all i am, they are only possible with you. you, my dear, are the most beautiful soul that i am thankful to be graced with.”

requests are open!! please do not reposts on other sites.

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #diluc #zhongli #kazuha #genshin fluff #genshin impact #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #kazuha x reader #airi.writes #airi.hcs

[stevebabey]

❤️🔥 hiiiii!! here to request a number 23 from prompt list 1: “fumbling with their hand as you tell a story.” i feel like you’d make it so soft and sweet <3

can u tell i was feeling so bad when i started writing this <3 nothing bout this prompt says angst but low nd behold, here's some hurt/comfort !! thank u for requesting alice m'dear :") this is like extra for u considering how sweet u are to me <33 1k+

It’s terribly late.

Really, the both of you should’ve wandered upstairs to bed at least an hour ago. There’s work tomorrow, early for you, less so for Steve, but it’s work all the same. He’ll grumble in the morning like he always does, tired and yawning all through his morning coffee.

Despite knowing this, Steve doesn’t even think of suggesting to turn in soon. Not when it’s one of these nights. 

Sometimes, Steve finds it takes gentle coaxing to get you to unwind from your day. When you spend so much of the day tense, reining in reactions and biting your tongue, he knows it takes more time, more touch. It’s worth losing the sleep, staying up to talk it out. Worth it to know he’s giving you peace of mind. That he can protect you from even restless nights.

Most of the time, you won’t even realise you’re wound up — it’s impossible to sift through feelings when all you feel is down. It’s not until after Steve’s worked his magic that you can tell how long the day has really been. When the stress leaks out of your shoulders and you slump into him like a puppet with its strings cut.

It’s one of those nights tonight.

You’re up on the kitchen counter. How you ended up there is lost in the haze of your tired night. You faintly recall tumbling through the door, somehow after Steve even though you started work before him. Overtime is a bitch.

Between then and now, you’re certain you’ve managed to shovel some food into you but mainly, you’ve been watching Steve fuss about the kitchen. To you, there’s no better remedy that the sight of your lover.

He’d already made dinner by the time you’d gotten in the door, some simple pasta dish, cheesy and delicious. He’d insisted on doing the cleaning up as well, seeing your low-lidded eyes and curled in shoulders. The fatigue rolls off you in waves. It makes Steve’s heart ache in an awful way.

So, he had kissed you sweet and ushered you up onto the counter, his warm hands helping under your thighs when you’d groaned and barely made a move to jump up. He mumbled something soft into your hair, ‘my tired, sweet girl’, and sealed it in with a kiss.

It had been soothing just to watch him, sleeves rolled up while he scrubbed at the soapy dishes. Rinsing the plates and working instinctively, letting the story about his own day come out in quiet rumbles, just letting you listen. You hum from time from time to let him know you’re listening, even if you feel a bit hollow.

But now, dishes done, Steve’s onto his most important job — drawing out the burdens of the day from his you. The cups of tea he’s fixed for both of you are beside you on the counter, long forgotten. Steam stains the air, just a hint of peppermint. 

Steve’s moved between your legs, hips leaning against the counter. He’s close enough that an inch forward and your head would rest against his collarbones. One hand sits on your knee, feather-light touches of his thumb against your skin. The other is held between yours, letting you fumble with it as you talk. Your hands work his fingers, playing with it idly as you talk.

“Yeah? And what’d she say?” He asks, voice low and head tilted to show he’s listening. 

“Y’know, just the usual. It wasn’t what she said, just like,” You sigh wearily, drawing a line down the middle of Steve’s palm with your finger. Your eyes stay fixed on your motions, his hand in your own. Your voice is smaller than you intend as you try to recall the rude memory of your manager today. “The way she said it? I don’t know, does that even make sense?”

“It does,” Steve assures, his hand giving your knee a quick squeeze. When your head remains bowed, still fiddling with his hand, Steve flips it over, his hand covering both yours to still your fidgeting.

“Hey,” He says, soft. His head ducks low, trying to catch your eyes. It’s alarming to see a sheen in them, glossy in a way he knows means tears. Something tears in his heart, his concern doubling in an instant. “Sweetheart, woah, woah, hey.”

You let out a pathetic sniffle and that’s all it takes for Steve’s instincts to kick in, pulling his hand out of your grip to bundle you into his arms. You cave, crumbling into his chest and burying your face away — one of his hands cradles the back of your head, loving strokes along your scalp. The other provides consoling sweeps along the curve of your spine. It all really just makes you want to cry harder.

“S’okay,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into the side of your head. It’s warmth seeps into your skin, a silent comfort through your tears. "It's okay, honey."

It feels so utterly stupid to fall apart over something so little, just a bad day that’s crept under your skin, made its home in your nerves. It feels unbearable, trying to unwork it from your blood. You’re not sure how long you cry, just that Steve’s there the whole time.

When you finally pull back, shuddering breaths, Steve’s fingers make quick work to wipe your tears. Calloused fingertips that sweep across your under-eyes, tender and kind.

There’s a light kiss against your forehead, another against your damp cheek, gentle as ever. Steve doesn’t speak, his eyes just searching your face — though you can’t tell what he’s looking for. You’re too dead tired, exhausted by your own emotions, to give any semblance of a smile, even though you feel a bit better now.

“Bed now?” He suggests, voice soft and low. The clock on the wall ticks loudly in the lull of words, a reminder of how long ago you both should’ve been asleep. You nod, pitiful and small. Steve trails the both of you upstairs, sets out your pajamas while you brush your teeth, then waits in the bathroom doorway til you’re done.

It’s close to midnight when you both finally crawl into bed. Steve’s arms are around you the moment you’re beside him and you find immense comfort with your head against his chest. The echo of his heartbeat plays like a lullaby beneath your ear.

“Sorry for keepin’ you up.” You whisper in the dark.

Steve’s arms tighten around you. He shifts around for a moment, then his hand sweeps back the hair off your forehead, and he gives a soft kiss there. It lingers for a few seconds, and when he pulls back, he snuggles closer, resting his cheek atop of your head.

“M’sorry you had a bad day.” He counters. You know he means it completely.

“I love you,” the words slur a bit, feeling yourself already dropping off closer to sleep. It’s impossible not to when you’re this warm and this damn tired.

You’re asleep before you hear his response but it doesn’t matter, you heard it in every kiss, know it from every sweet gesture and moment of the evening. He loves you, and he takes care of you. The sleep is a peaceful one.

#me this whole piece #KIND LOVING TENDER SOFT GENTLE #can u tell what i was yearning for #😩 #she can still write ! #guys i might have covid :/ #these thoughts just pouring out tonite #well hopefully someone enjoys this LMAO #ruby writes steve #steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #stevie blurb! #ruby's very own tour of hawkins #hopefully i can do ANOTHA tonight #cos i aint got no work tomorrow #and as long as i dont feel too shit

[medusapelagia]

09 AU-gust: Cleaning Crew

Rating: Teen and up Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson WT: omegaverse, implied reference to prostitution, Omega Steve Harrington, Alpha Eddie Munson, Dad Steve Harrington WC: 2643

Since he started working for a cleaning company three years ago, Steve has never gotten a complaint. He is quick and tidy and when he leaves the house he always leaves a bouquet. It’s not that he has money to spare but it feels good leaving some flowers on the kitchen counter even if it’s not his. Some clients even tip him for it. His work is really appreciated and some clients started to request him specifically. This means more money but less time with his little bug. Every morning, when he leaves the house, his little bundle of joy is still sleeping, and when he comes home they hardly have enough time to play and have dinner, and then his baby girl is ready for bed. “You work too much.” Robin scolds him while cleaning the dinner plates. “I need the money, Rob. You know that.” “You could try to find a better job! Or a new position at the cleaning company.” She insists. “What if they fire me, Rob? I’m an unmated omega with a child! And there is only one kind of job for people like me!”

She shakes his head “That’s not true! I know it’s harder for you but you could go to community college and…” “Look. I don’t have enough time to spend with Elisabeth and you are trying to convince me to go to community college? It makes no sense!” “It would be just for a little bit, and I could help with Lizzie!” She already helps a lot, he can’t ask her anything more. “I’m going to bed. Tomorrow it’s my day off and I’m eager to spend it with Lizzie.”

***

His phone is buzzing. He opens his eyes but it’s still dark. He looks at the caller: Chrissy, his boss. “Hello?” “Hi, Steve! I’m really sorry to bother you but I need a favor. One of our clients had a party last night and tomorrow they are going to do a shooting in the house. His manager requested our best cleaner, saying he would pay double, and I immediately thought of you.” Fuck. It’s his day off! He was already thinking about going to the park with Lizzie and… “Send me the address.” He replies with a sigh he can’t really turn down someone willing to pay him double. His little girl stirs in her sleep. He hugs her, whispering in his ear “I hope one day you’ll know that I’m doing this for you.” He kisses the crown of her head and then he wakes up Robin “Are you up for babysitting duty?” “But I thought…” “They pay double.” She looks sadly at him but nods “I’ll leave her with Vicky. It’s that ok?”

***

The house seems like a battlefield. There are bottles everywhere: whoever the owner is, he likes to party hard. He has already filled four bags of trash with just bottles: it’s a mix of expensive champagne and cheap beers and some bottles of wine. There is a big stain of red wine on a white couch that Steve already knows that it’s going to be a bitch to clean, but he will because he is the best. He works hard, cleaning every surface while he blasts the music in his earphones and dances around the kitchen. He is so concentrated that he doesn’t hear the client entering the kitchen and he yells when he touches him on the shoulder “What the fuck man! You scared me to death!” Steve barks, turning off his headphones and trying to slow his breathing. “Sorry, I thought you heard me. You are quite a dancer by the way.” Steve studies the man for a moment. His voice is rougher than it was and he looks older than he is but he is undoubtedly the same man he knew. The one that left him while he was pregnant. He can’t smell anymore, but he is sure that he still smells of sandalwood. The man’s nose wrinkles. “Why are you upset?” He doesn’t remember him. He got him pregnant but he doesn’t remember him! “I’m just pissed because you interrupted me. Now if you let me finish I’ll be out of your hair in no time.” “Good. I just wanted to offer you a coffee.” “I’m fine, thanks.” He gets closer “You smell familiar? Have we met before?” Steve shakes his head, lying “Maybe I cleaned your house before.” “Did you?” He keeps silent. He can’t fucking smell but he can. “That’s what I thought. Why are you lying to me, sugar?” He keeps still. His alpha’s hormones are futile with him. He just has to… His phone starts to buzz and he looks at the caller: Vicky. “Steve I’m sorry but Lizzie is unwell and she keeps asking for you. I think it’s just a cold but…” “I’m on my way.” The man at his side glares at him “I thought you had a job to do.” “Yeah. Picking up my sick child is more important than cleaning after a wasted shithead!” He rebukes, then he changes back and is ready to leave when the man stops him “I’m sorry. I was a dick.” He puts a pair of crumpled bills in his hand. “I don’t need your pity, Eddie.” He says leaving the house “Do we know each other?” the alpha asks again but he is already in his car.

***

“Steve, I want to talk to you. Can you come to my office as soon as you finish cleaning the house you are working at?” That doesn’t sound good. “Am I in trouble?” “I’d like to talk about that in person. Is that a problem?” It’s not a problem but it’s not good news either. “I’ll be there in an hour, ok?” “Perfect.” He tries not to worry while he finishes working but he can’t. He can’t lose this job. He has a child and… He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He has done nothing wrong. He is the best. He leaves flowers in strangers’ houses. It can’t be bad, right?

***

“Listen, it’s the first time that we got a complaint about you so I wanted to talk to you personally.” A complaint about him? Who? Why? “Do you remember the job I gave you a couple of weeks ago? It was last minute but with double pay?” Shit. “I don‘t know if you knew that but that was Eddie Munson’s house and his manager was quite pissed because you didn’t clean the house properly.” “I already told you, I got an emergency. I cleaned all I could and I didn’t take the money for the job.” “I know that, but Nancy Wheeler is quite a name in the system, and if she starts talking trash about our services we are doomed.” He nods “I’m sorry. Lizzie was unwell and she needed me.” “I know that you have a child, Steve, and I tried to be supportive, but if you can guarantee a good job maybe you should find another place of employment.” “Are you fucking kidding me? You want to fire me because a drunken music star couldn’t clean after himself while my child was unwell? It was my fucking day off! And still, I was there.” “I told you they were going to pay double. You could have told me that you couldn’t and I would have asked someone else.” “Lizzie was ok when I left…” “Listen, I don’t want to talk about that. You have two options: or you can convince Nancy Wheeler that we are the best or you can find yourself another job.” “Thank you, Chrissy. You are really a friend!” “I hired you when none else would!” “And now you are threatening to fire me!” he yells back, getting up so abruptly that the chair falls to the ground. They stare at each other for a long moment, then Steve says “I’ll see what I can do.” and leaves the office slamming the door behind him.

***

He hasn’t drunk in three years. Not even on Year's Eve. And now he is fucking drunk and parked a few miles away from Eddie’s house. He is sure that he has some kind of security so he should sleep it off in his car and go back home. He should. If he was clever enough. But he never was the sharpest tool in the box. He gets out of the car and gets to the gate, the code is still the same as he used two weeks ago, and so is the door’s one. Five minutes and he is inside the stupid mansion. “Eddie!” he starts to scream, drunkenly “Eddie!” He doesn’t even know if he is on tour or what else. Maybe he is just making a fool out of himself for nothing. But the man is there. “Sugar. I thought you had enough of me.” he replies with a smirk. Steve gets closer to him. trying to slap his face, but Eddie is quicker and grabs his wrist before he reaches him. “What the hell do you want from my life? Haven’t you done enough? Leaving me pregnant was not enough for you? Now you are going to make me lose my job?” he yells “I know that I mean nothing to you, but I need my fucking job, ok? I have to pay for the rent, and the food, and my pup deserves the world and I’m going to give it to her! So say to your fucking manager that you are a dick and that the cleaning company is a good one!” he starts to cry without even noticing “I need the job. I really do. I don’t want to be back on the streets again…” He still remembers how hard it was before he met Robin. How cold the streets were, how no one helped him, and the few that did help wanted something back as a payment for their generosity. He will not get back to the street. He can’t. He really can’t. “What the hell are you talking about? Who the fuck are you.” “I’m Steve, you fucking moron! I’m your high school sweetheart! Do you remember that? Do you remember prom? When you drove me to the woods and we made love and the next day you disappeared?” “Steve? That’s not possible. He died. He died in the arson of his house a couple of weeks after I got my first contract. How the fuck do you know about him?!” “What the hell are you saying? I left the house as soon as that fucking test turned blue! My parents weren’t going to raise a bastard, that's what they said! They called my little bug a bastard!” He falls to his knees, too overwhelmed by the alcohol and the emotion. “Is it you? Is it really you? Why is your smell so… off?” “I… I had a difficult birth. I almost died during childbirth. They saved my life but I lost my ability to smell.” he tries to explain while Eddie kneels with him on the floor. “Is that you? Is that really you?” Eddie keeps asking, trying to find his scent under the alcohol. “It’s me…” he whispers between the tears “I need my job. Please, Eddie, I have never asked anything from you but I need my job. I really do.” Eddie picks him up bridal style and takes him to his room. Steve hears him talking with the security but he is too tired and confused. “Sleep, omega.” he whispers in his ear, and all he can do is obey his alpha.

***

Steve wakes up with a startle. He is not in the apartment he shares with Robin and Lizzie is not sleeping at his side. “Lovebug?” he calls, confused and with a terrible headache. On the nightstand, there is a glass of water and a couple of pills. He takes them and when the door of the room opens he is surprised to see Eddie holding a tray with breakfast. “The pancakes are burnt, but the eggs are edible.” he says. “Eddie? What are you doing here?” “It’s my home, Steve.” “Your home? Oh shit! Shit! Shit! I’m sorry! I was fucking drunk! I didn’t mean to come here, but Chrissy was going to fire me and…” “Your job it’s safe and your lovely housemate is taking care of Elizabeth.” “How do you know her name?” “Your phone kept buzzing and I had to answer. She wasn’t very happy to find out that you almost blacked out at my place but she agreed that it was better to let you sleep it off here and not in your car.” “Lizzie?” “I’m sure she is fine. Do you want me to drive you home?” Steve studies him for a moment “You want to meet her.” he states. Eddie shrugs and then sits on Steve’s bed “Are you sure she is mine?” Steve burst out in a laugh “I’m very sure Eddie. You are the only alpha I have been with. And she looks just like you. Can you give me my wallet please? It’s in the back pocket of my pants.” Eddie takes Steve’s pants and gives him his wallet, inside there is an old picture of Steve holding Lizzie, it was her first birthday. “She has your eyes. And your freckles.” Eddie says, caressing the picture. “And your hair, and your smile. And Wayne's nose I think, but it’s still too soon to say.” “I have a daughter…” Eddie says, astonished. “You do. And it’s the most lovely kid in the world.” Steve studies Eddie’s reaction, then he asks “Would you like to meet her? She knows nothing about you. Only that his dad is a musician and that he is always on tour.” “You would let me?” Steve sighs “I hated you for so long Eddie, but I’m not so cruel to keep you away from your child. If you really want to meet her you have to promise me that you’ll be present in her life, that this is not just a whim of the moment, and that you will stop drinking like you do.” “I’m not the one who was totally wasted last night!” Eddie rebukes, offended. “My house, my rules.” Steve insists “And you will not meet her soon. I want to prepare her and be sure that she wants to meet you too. If she says no then it’s over. Is that ok for you?” “At one condition.” “What?” “That no matter what, if Lizzie wants to meet me or not, both of you will receive a percentage of my royalties.” “I can’t accept that. I have my job and… Oh god. I do have a job, right? Chrissy didn’t fire me for coming here?” Eddie hugs him, trying to calm the omega with his pheromones even knowing that he can’t smell properly. “You are good. You still have your job, your kid, and your house, ok? Now rest a little more and then we will speak.” Eddie is still holding the picture in his hands. “Keep it. I have more pictures at home.” Eddie nods, lying in the bed with his omega “Can I hold you?” “Did you miss me?” he asks teasingly. “Every single day. I thought you were dead. I thought I was going to die too. Without you. But my death was slower.” Eddie kisses his head “Will you tell me what happened?” “I will. But not now.” “Sleep love. I’ll be here when you wake up.” “You will?” “Of course. I'm not going to leave you again sweetheart.”

***

Since he started working for a cleaning company three years ago, Steve has never gotten a complaint. The only one that he got brought him back to the love of his life and to their newfound family.

#tumblr fic #myfanfic #steddie #au gust 2023 #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic #writing challenge #omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #dad steve harrington #cleaning crew #medusapelagia fanfic #medusapelagia #my fanfic

[once-upon-an-imagine]

idk if u take anon requests, but if you do, would u be willing to do an argyle x byers!reader with either the prompt “Size difference hug; they engulf you.”, or "Is that my shirt?" "You mean our shirt?"

thank u!!

YEEEES! 🥰🥰🥰 OMG I love this so much!

Warnings: getting high with Argyle Disclaimer: I don’t own Stranger Thing😊 gifs aren’t mine 😁

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Shirts & Hugs

Ever since you were little, you had always been a good listener. It probably started when you heard your parents arguing after you and your brothers went to bed. Which is why Jonathan always made you listen to some music before you went to sleep. And you usually did. But some nights, you felt a small voice in your head that told you not to. That you needed to be awake and listen to something that was going to happen. Like tonight. Which is why you heard every single thing going on outside your room. You heard the phone ringing in the middle of the night. You heard Jonathan going to your mother and asking if Argyle could spend the night. You heard his very loud van approaching your house and the very loud boy entering your house. You heard Jonathan telling him that he could stay in the basement and then you heard the door next to your room closing. Which meant Jonathan was back. And Argyle was downstairs. You slowly got out of bed and quietly stepped out of your room and into the basement. 

“Dude, I said I’m fine-” Argyle stopped when he saw it was you instead of Jonathan coming down the stairs. You saw him sitting on the pullout sofa Jonathan had set up for him, smoking a joint. “Oh, hey, sunshine” he smiled a little. “It’s like three in the morning, what are you doing up?”

“Well, I heard Jonathan ask my mom if you could spend the night and I knew that meant you had a bad day” you said, walking closer to him. 

“Is that my shirt?” 

"You mean our shirt?" you asked, looking down at your shirt before sitting down next to him and grabbing the joint from his hand as he let out a small laugh. 

“Shit, how do you always do that?” he asked, smiling at you. 

“Do what?” you asked, confused, letting out the smoke. 

“I just definitely had one of the worst days I’ve had in my life and I was in the shittiest mood and you just come in here and make me smile?” 

“Well, that’s my job, love” you smiled, returning the joint to him and kissing his cheek. “You wanna talk about it?” you asked, placing a strand of hair behind his ear. 

“It was just… a horrible day” he sighed, throwing himself on the bed.  “I was late for work so my stupid boss put me in front at the register” he started, taking another hit. “And there were so many stupid guys from school ordering this insane ingredients on their pizzas-”

“Like pineapple?”

“Pineapple on pizza is heavenly, and you know it sunshine” he glared a little at you. “Anyways they made a huge mess and I had to clean it up. Then I got home and my stupid Math test came out of my stupid bag and my mom saw that I had an F so she started yelling at me and then my dad started yelling at me and I just…” he sighed. “I didn’t want to be there anymore” he said, grabbing your hand and he started playing with it. “He said I was stupid…”

“You’re not stupid” you told him. 

“Maybe I am” he said, sitting up again, and getting upset once more. 

“No, you’re not. Look at me” you said, cupping his cheek with your and making you look at him. “Argyle, you’re not stupid” you repeated.

“You’re just saying that because you like me” he frowned. 

“That’s not true. You’re one of the smartest people I know” you insisted. “We both know that you sometimes just need to focus a little more. And you’re smart in a lot of different creative and original ways” you insisted. 

“You really think so?”

“Of course, I do” you said, giving him a peck on the lips. 

“Could you… maybe help me study so I don’t flunk out this year and I can at least move out of my horrible house?” he asked, making you smile sweetly back at him. 

“I’d love to” you said, kissing his cheek. 

“Does your brother know you’re here?” 

“Which one?” you smirked, making him glare a little at you. “No, Jonathan doesn’t know I’m here” you assured him as he finished the last of his joint. “You know he’s gonna find out somehow, right?”

“I know” he said, letting out the smoke. “I just… kinda wanna figure out how to tell him without him killing me” he told you. 

“Jonathan wouldn’t kill you” you rolled your eyes. “He can’t even fight” you said.

“You said he fought that kid from back home. Steve?”

“Yeah, that’s only because Steve is worse than Jonathan” you told him. “Which is not easy to do” you smiled. “I think Will knows” you said after a while. 

“Really? Did he say anything to you?”

“No. He just mentioned that… I’ve seem… happier lately” you informed him. 

“Oh, you’ve been happier lately, Byers?” 

“A bit” you shrugged. 

“Any particular reason why?” he asked, getting closer to you. 

“Well, I just happen to have the best boyfriend ever” you smiled, making him smile as well before he pulled you closer and kissed you. When you pulled away, you wrapped your arms around him, as much as you could. 

“What are you doing?” he chuckled. 

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m hugging you” you said as if it was obvious. 

“Sunshine, you look like a tiny koala, wrapping his tiny paws around a tree” he laughed. 

“No, I don’t!” you argued. “You always hug me when I don’t feel good, so I want to do the same for you!” you pouted. 

“As adorable as that is” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you to engulf you in his huge hugs. “I like it way better like this” he said, kissing you. 

“It’s not fair! I’m supposed to be making you feel better” you frowned. 

“Sweetheart, you did that the minute you stepped in here” he assured you, kissing your nose. “I love you” he smiled. 

“I love you too” you smiled, giving in and resting your head on his chest. 

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: I hope you liked it :D

#stranger things #stranger things imagine #argyle #argyle imagine #argyle x reader #argyle drabble

[baekxytocin]

Military Discharge (M)

Fluff

Mature

Romantic

Smut

Warning: This is a mature, sensitive content. Please read at your own risk.

*Sequel from 100 Days My Prince.

Character:

Baekhyun

Reader

‘Better safe than to be sorry’

1333 words

Today is the day your husband, Byun Baekhyun, was discharged from the military. Waiting for him for around a year and nine months feels longer for you, though he returned home once in a while. You are thankful to be invited to watch the closing ceremony for those who have completed their military service. He may not notice you taking pictures of him since you are covering yourself with face masks for protection. “Better safe than to be sorry” you remember your husband always reminding you of the pandemic standard health procedure.

When all soldiers who completed military service are dismissed, you finally saw him coming out from the military stage. You wave at him and he sees you too. You can see his smile although he covers himself with face masks. You quickly run to him when you saw him spreading his arm open wide. “Gosh, it’s been two weeks. I miss my love so much” he tightens his embrace. “Me too, hubby…. Let’s go home” and he nods in agreement.

“You must be tired. I’ll drive,” you insist although Baekhyun offers to drive home. He just smiles. Baekhyun asks to drop by and buy some takeaway food since he doesn’t want to see you spending time doing house chores. “I want to spend time with you, my love. All I see was a muscular man at the camp, at the social work…. Gosh, I thought I’m going crazy” you only laugh hearing him saying that.

When you reach home, your husband strictly wants you two to clean yourselves first. You agree with him; since the pandemic is still around though the situation gradually getting better. You ask him to have a bath first, while you clean your hands and transfer the food bought earlier to a few plates. You take turns to take bath while Baekhyun takes his time calling his parents about him being safely and healthily discharged from military service. After that, both of you enjoy the food together. He continues chatting even at the kitchen table, telling you about his military life; what was happening every morning at the social work, the important events, and some memories that he cannot forget while he was doing military service. He feels good to be able to take a break from the entertainment world and has a chance to socialise with professional soldiers, and social workers and be friends with them.

You carefully listen to each history your husband tells you. You share his happiness for being able to complete his military service; as you know that alongside Suho, his military service was a bit longer than his fellow EXO members. “Wow…. I wonder what happen the moment I return to the entertainment world. I must be like when I was still a rookie, being awkward and all that” he expresses his concern. “Don’t worry hubby, you’ll be fine. After all, you are called Genius Idol for a reason” you encouraged him. “Thank you, sweetie. Without your love and support, I seriously can’t face this world alone” He sighs.

He helps you with the dishes. However, when you stare at his body from behind, you feel that his body is toner than before though it’s just two weeks since you last see each other. You can’t help yourself but feel sensual around him; as it’s been too long since you’re not been together. “Hubby….” You slowly get closer to him and hug him from the back. He understands you and he too wanted the same. He finishes washing dishes and immediately hugs you back, fiercely kissing you while he slowly leads you to the bedroom.

Today, going to the bedroom seems longer than you think at the present. You need him urgently. “Hubby, I want you now…. I can’t stand anymore….” You plead. “Sweetie, just a few steps to….” But you don’t care, you fully undress him right before the bedroom. He didn’t argue with you, taking off your clothes until you are as bare as him. You hastily kneel down and taste his long, delicious cock. He grunts while moving his body along with your movement.

You wrap his waist with your right leg while gently grinding your lower part against his, and ferociously kissing each other, as you two explore each other bodies, making you both moan erotically. “You’re fully wet now, sweetie…. I need you now; I can’t wait anymore.”

“Ummm…. me too….” you whimper as you keep grinding yourself against his lower part. Hearing your approval, he instantly inserts his already hard member inside you, while still standing. You two grunt louder. “I want to…. Ugh….”

“Cum around my cock, let me feel your hot juice” your husband takes turns sucking your nipples while holding your waist steadily. You reach your first orgasm, as you squeal louder. Amazingly, your husband releases his warm juice right after you cum as well. Yet, you still feel his shaft hard, and you know well that the round has not ended. “Next round” he takes a deep breath, hurriedly carrying you to the bedroom, and locking the door.

He lays down with you, quickly spreading your legs apart, and he enters you once again, in a missionary position. You keep moaning while clawing his back, but he simply doesn’t care as you two are letting go of that longingness together.

“Ahhhh hubby, ahhhh ahhhh ahhhh ummm fuck yeah ahhhh ahhhh ahhhhhhh” you moan loudly while he slams his dick harder and faster into you, making you reach your second orgasm.

“Hubby…. More….” You beg shortly after taking a deep breath. “Of course, my love” he kisses you.

He places you on top of him again, sitting together upright on the bed, facing each other. His member is still inside you, this time he moves slowly, making sweet love with you. “I miss doing this” you slurred. “Don’t worry, I’m here now. We’ll do this frequently” he kisses your forehead. “Ohh…. You are so tight….” He continues while licking and sucking your boobs. “Ohh, hubby…. Why do I feel yours is getting longer and bigger…. Ahhh ahhhh, do you eat something….” you compliment him while blowing a kiss on his temple, then going down to his ear. “Maybe exercise helps, sweetie. But I could do this all night, your moan always making me hard again and again each time. Moan for me again, my love” you whine harder, your pussy is getting wetter hearing naughty words from him.

All of a sudden, his hand reaches out for your clit while still fucking you, constantly rubbing it making you arch your back while calling his name in fortissimo. You shiver, sending another orgasm over you. Your husband spins you around when you are still out not recovering from your last orgasm and currently taking you from behind while back hugging you. His right hand grope one of your breasts while the other hand caresses your stomach, then down all the way to your sensitive clit again.

“Ahhhh…. hubby ummm…. Ahhh ahhhh….ummm …. faster….” You urge him while supporting both of you with your hands. He obeys you and goes as fast as he could. You both scream louder, not caring about whoever hears it anymore. “Love…. ugh…. cumming…. AHHHH” your husband only manages to utter those words when you finally cum together. He quivers and groans loudly while shooting his warm juice deep inside your womb, and you both fall together on the bed, exhausted from the lovely intercourse.

Even with his eyes already half closed, he is still able to find your lips. You two kiss dearly for a moment. “My best gift for Valentine’s Day ever,” you said. “My military discharge or our lovemaking?” he asks while snuggling with you. “Both” you two giggling while patting his chest fluffily. “I love you forever and ever” Baekhyun hugs you to sleep. “I love you too, until the end of my life” and soon after you also sleep peacefully next to your husband.

Thank you for reading.

Uploaded on: 5th February 2023

Back to Main

Back to Baekxytocin's Reading List

#baekhyun ff #baekhyun fanfic #byun baekhyun #exo baekhyun #baekhyun #exo byun baekhyun #baekhyun smut #exo smut #baekhyun x oc #bbh x reader #baekhyun x y/n #baekhyun x you #baekhyun x reader #valentine's day #valentine #military discharge #baekhyun military discharge #exo #byun bacon

[sukunasweetheart]

Lullaby for the Past

Office au Sukuna x fem!reader

Synopsis; Reincarnated as a human, Ryomen Sukuna - the former king of curses - is now just a perpetually tired office worker living in a world free of curses. His dreams are haunted by visions of his past life, despite not actually retaining any of these memories himself. These nightmares have surrounded him since childhood and nothing he does seems to do any help, so he’s given up and has learned to live with the restless nights, the lack of sleep and the moodiness. That is, until a series of unexpected incidents occur with the newly transferred employee - Y/N.

13. He Resides Within

Word Count: 3k

8AM in the morning, Y/N got off the phone after calling in sick for work. She might’ve overexerted herself from the abrupt exercising. There were numerous aches rippling throughout her body, and a fever was currently boiling her blood, making it difficult for her to think straight.

“Maybe I should just stay home. With you,” Sukuna clicked his tongue as he helped her down to her place, and then into her bed. Over the course of a few days, she’d been spending her nights at his apartment. Even in the duration of her illness, she felt a bit embarrassed about her home being in the mess that it was, due to how she hadn’t been bothering with the clean up.

“Absolutely not,” Y/N weakly chuckled as he rested her blanket over her body. “The office would get too busy if both you and I were missing.”

He gave her a smile that let her know he agreed with her, but also showed concern.

“What about medicine? Should I quickly get some right now?”

“I’m pretty sure I have enough in my cabinet,” she told him, shaking her head.

Sukuna sat beside her on the bed for a few moments, not wanting to leave her side.

He closed her window blinds for her, and then began walking out the door. When she called out his name again in the split second before he could close her door, he stopped in his tracks. There was a little pause before she spoke again.

“You should get going. This is my chance to sleep in for once.”

He gave a short laugh and nodded, pressing a kiss onto her hand afterwards.

“I’ll be back.”

-

“Drive safely.”

“Of course. Don’t worry about me.”

Sukuna checked and rechecked the clock on the wall, again and again. Was the day always this long? God, why did time have to go so slowly, on a day like this? Looking at your empty seat beside him made him sigh and grit his teeth. He wanted to abandon the office and just rush home.

It was one of those days in the office; where his back seemed to hurt no matter what position he sat in, his clothes stuck onto him in an uncomfortable way, and that constant, loitering feeling of restlessness seeping into his actions - whether it was in the form of him bouncing his leg, tapping his foot, or fiddling with something in his hand.

The others whispered to each other, pointing out his obvious shift in mood just from her absence at work.

They’d insisted he ate with them in the cafeteria, as he usually always ate lunch alone with Y/N during breaks. Now, food doesn’t taste the same without her. Ugh, he thinks, that sounded corny as shit.

“Sukuna, you’re… how do I say this…you’re hard to read, but easy to read at the same time.”

His spoon stopped midair as he made a face of displeasure towards Suzuki.

“What’re you trying to say?” Sukuna asked, looking clearly unamused.

“Nothing, sir.” The rest of the group held in their laughter, for fear of death.

As soon as he’d finished his meal, Sukuna stood up from his chair and rushed to return his tray after saying his thanks towards his coworkers. Perhaps if he could finish work fast enough, he’d be able to get off a little earlier than usual. With that in mind, Sukuna went forth to his desk to continue his tasks for the day as he held a little hope in being let off a little earlier.

Back at home, Y/N had woken up from her extra hours of sleep, but was still delirious from her fever. A throbbing feeling rippled through her head and this made even going to the toilet seem like a farfetched journey. She missed him already. She wished he was here to nag her to take her medicine. Looking at the clock, she saw that it was already 1pm. Y/N had taken her medicine in the morning without really eating much, and she’s about to do the same for lunch, too. It’s too bothersome.

And it’s always in times like these, where the house feels so cluttered and messy. Strewn clothes on the floor, books she’d discontinued reading at some point being everywhere except in the shelves where they belong, and some visible strands of her own hair being on the ground. Vacuuming was her least favourite house chore.

When everything feels this unorganised and unsightly, Y/N can’t help but feel like she has to quit. It’s all too much. And she didn’t feel like doing anything. She felt her eyes closing up again.

And she drifted in and out of consciousness, for the next couple of hours.

Oh, well. She thought to herself. I’ll just go back to sleep.

I’ll sleep, and if I’m lucky, maybe the feeling will go away, she childishly hoped.

-

Y/N’s mind remained dormant, but rather than in a peaceful way, it felt more like it was stuck limply writhing in the mud - slow, and difficult to move. It clung to her skin, and clumped up in her hair. Her blanket felt hot and heavy.

In the far distance, there seemed to be a distinct noise ringing in the background. Somebody was beginning to slowly drag her out of this mess. The ringing of that same noise was becoming more deafening, and Y/N opened up her eyes halfway.

…Who’s there? So noisy.

She closed her eyes again.

“Y/N, it’s me. Open up.” She perked up when she heard that voice.

She must’ve stood up too fast, because after the first few steps towards the door, she collapsed onto the floor with a loud thud. He must’ve heard it too, because he quickly grew concerned.

“Hey! You good?” Sukuna asked, frantically trying the door handle.

Hissing, she rubbed at her sore knees and stood back up again to open up for him. Once that damn door was out of the way, Sukuna looked her up and down for any sustained injuries before pulling her into his arms, not minding her dishevelled hair and sweaty skin.

“My bad. I forgot to take your keys with me this morning,” he apologised, patting the back of her head.

“Your fever still hasn’t gone down. Did you fall over on your way here?”

“Yeah,” she croaked out, chuckling weakly, embarrassed to admit so.

He didn’t seem to find it too funny, and instead immediately guided her back to bed.

“I wanna be somewhere where I can hear you moving around better.”

Sukuna asked her where the medicine cabinet was, and once he was back, he slapped a cold compression onto her forehead.

“I checked the sink and bin. You didn’t eat anything while I was gone, doll?”

When Y/N shook her head, he sighed and lightly pinched at her cheek.

“Hold on. Let me whip up something quick.”

When he stood up to leave again, she caught him by the hand, and told him she wanted to be on the sofa.

So now Y/N was laying on the sofa, watching her favourite comfort film while she listened to the sounds of Sukuna working in her kitchen. When he said quick, he must’ve really meant it because not long after, she was getting called to the table for her first meal of the day.

“It’s not much. Just egg rice porridge,” Sukuna told her, placing the steaming bowl before her. “Careful, it’s hot.”

Y/N thought she wouldn’t have the appetite to eat, but seeing and smelling this changed her mind entirely. She thanked him as he took a seat before her and put a spoonful of the porridge to her lips - only to retract immediately from the scorching heat.

She chuckled as Sukuna gave her a look that meant told you so, as he took the spoon from her and started to lightly blow on it. Perhaps being sick wasn’t so bad if it meant that your boyfriend would take care of you like this. She smiled and nodded when he asked her if it was good.

Once he’d finished the dishes, he came back to her on the sofa, where she promptly stood up with the blanket around her shoulders.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“You first,” she gestured, “I wanna lay on top.”

Sukuna grinned and went ahead to lie down on the spot that was still warm from her body heat. Y/N then climbed on top of him, ear against his chest.

Though, there was a rather strange feeling lurking inside of her as she drifted away into a nap. Every thump she heard was drawing her subconscious closer and closer to an ambiguous location in the far distance.

“Feeling comfortable?” he said - fixing the blanket to properly cover her.

“Very,” she replied, having a content smile on her face as she closed her eyes - listening to the beats of his heart, along with the noises of the film playing in the background.

-

Once she opened up her eyes again, Y/N saw that she was surrounded by the colour red.

He looks down at her with expressionless eyes, from atop his throne that has vastly shrunken in size over the years. Tattoos are inked onto his face, and what he dons is an old kimono. Even so, judging by the pink hair and the familiar crimson eyes - he was unmistakably Sukuna.

“Sukuna? What are you doing up there?” she asked, looking up past the strange bones that made up his seat.

‘Sukuna’ remained silent for a long minute, before he opened his mouth to speak.

“I should be asking that question. What are you doing here?”

He’d always thought that he was no longer able to bring anybody else in here. Not after taking up this new life of his. She squinted her eyes at him, and an awkward silence pours over them for a moment. The weird thing about dreams is that no matter how bizarre things may be, you don’t seem to question them as much as you’d do in real life.

The hell is that supposed to mean? She thought to herself.

“You’re… not the same. You’re not the Sukuna that I know.”

“Great observation. You’re one sharp woman,” he muttered sarcastically.

“Are you the one causing his nightmares?” Y/N glared at him.

“I’d be correct if I said yes, but I also wouldn’t be wrong if I said no.”

“Well either way, I’m going to beat your ass. Do you know how much he’s suffered because of you?”

Sukuna scoffed at her and followed it up with a cocky smirk.

“Feel free. Why don’t you try climbing up here?” he mocked her.

This was one terrible dream. Her house slippers definitely weren’t suited for climbing a hill of skulls. He peered down at her with amusement, not moving an inch to help her out. She was nearly there, anyway.

On the last step towards him however, Y/N’s foot slipped and she was on the verge of tumbling back down to square one. He darted his hand out to grab her by the wrist, with a sigh.

“Just how did I end up falling for someone like you anyway?” he asked haughtily as he placed her on his lap, sitting back down.

“What do you mean? So you’re the same person after all?”

His eyebrows furrowed with indignance and he clicked his tongue in disapproval.

She sensed how strong he was, just by the way he rendered her immobile.

“You wouldn’t understand even if I told you.”

‘Sukuna’ held her tighter and stopped her from thrashing around so much.

“It’s been a while since I felt the movement of another’s body.”

Something relatively sad seemed to enter the atmosphere between them, as he continued to look away from her. Even his sullen face looked the same. ‘Sukuna’ feels like someone who has rather limited time, fleeting.

“...I heard you were a four-armed beast. I don’t seem to see your extra limbs.”

“That’s old news. I’ve weakened significantly.”

He looked around at his narrowed domain - well, only a fragment of what it used to be. And now, even this won’t last much longer.

“That's why I can’t raise my hand against you. His affection still flows through me.”

“Will his dreams stop once you go away?” Y/N questioned him.

“Who knows. I’m not making myself see those memories purposefully.”

“You keep referring to him as if he’s the same person as you.”

“I’ve gotten rather soft, haven’t I? Well, either way, he’s merely but another variation of me.”

‘Sukuna’ looked at her with a more softened gaze.

She stared at him wordlessly - before relaxing in his arms and resting her head against him. He looked at her quizzically, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s with the changed attitude?”

“I promised… that I’d embrace every part of him.”

“Is that so? How sweet of you.”

“I’m not sure if I like this version of you though,” she said with a grimace.

He only grunted in response and leaned back into his throne.

She stared at him without shame, with big expressionless eyes. He took the time to try and decipher the gaze, but she looked away at the last second.

“...Wait, you didn’t witness it? Aren’t you always watching from here?”

“Like I said. I’ve grown weak. I only see glimpses of my new life…For the most part, I’m stuck here doing nothing.”

“Tell me, woman. Am I happy out there?”

“Must be boring. And lonely.” He merely scoffed at her again.

“Perhaps. But I’ll be disappearing soon. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“...I never said such a thing,” she pouted.

He let out a ‘hmph’ that sounded something like a mixture of both doubt and ridicule. His expression then softened for a moment, before he asked his next question.

It was an odd question to come out of someone like him. He didn’t look like he was looking forward to her answer at all.

“I…can’t say for sure? I’d like to think so,” she hesitantly replied. “Not to brag, but…you certainly seem a lot happier when I’m around.”

“You are quite amusing,” he said, tugging at her nose. “Though I don’t understand how my happiness can stem from anyone other than myself.”

He was used to being self centred and cold. Cold, despite the flames that he could create with his hands. Though, that was a long time ago.

“The ‘you’ out there understands perfectly well,” she replied quietly.

A long silence is lodged between them.

“Anyway, when can I go back again?”

“That’s not really up to me to decide. You’re the one that barged in here.”

Y/N looked up and around the area, looking for any emergency exits of any sort, but to no avail.

“What should I even say when I get back? That I met the past version of you? And talked to him?” she suddenly brought up.

“There’s no need,” ‘Sukuna’ told her, “I’ll be withholding your memories of me here. You’ll forget when you wake up. And you’ll only remember me when you’re in my domain.”

An expression of realisation ran through her face, going sullen as she uncrossed her arms before him. And then Y/N felt slightly uncomfortable at the reminder that she was currently in the lap of a murderer. She dared not ask him about that, however.

“That seems a little unnecessary. Why is it like that?” she asked curiously, crossing her arms.

“Use that little brain of yours. You think I’ll- he will be happy, knowing that all his dreams were real?”

Whether a person clings to their past, or the past clings to them - it is taboo, either way.

-

“Looks like time’s up.” He looked a little irritated and disappointed.

Before she could open her mouth again, Y/N was already back on the sofa in her living room. ‘Sukuna’, now alone once again, leaned back against the throne in his small, empty kingdom.

He placed a hand onto her forehead and roughly compared the heat of his palm with her forehead.

“My bad. Didn’t mean to wake you,” Sukuna told her, watching as she slowly rose from his chest, rubbing at her eyes.

“It’s alright. How long was I out for?”

“About an hour. How’re you feeling?”

“Much better.”

“Your temperature’s gone down, but you’re still a bit warm.”

He got up from the sofa and put the blanket over Y/N’s legs, telling her that he’d get her some water to drink.

And then, despite some protests from her end, Sukuna cleaned her place up a bit - picking up strayed clothes and tossing them into the laundry basket, and then vacuuming the area. She felt a little apologetic, but also refreshed at how less cluttered her living room felt.

“Hey, what’s this box? Do I push it back in?”

She turned around to see Sukuna gesturing towards the box from her storage closet, and a small panic ensued within her.

Later on, after the relaxing evening, Y/N fell asleep in his arms that night.

“Oh, please do… Um, I need to sort that out myself later on.”

Sukuna nodded and then pushed it back in using his foot, before closing the closet fully.

It had gone over her head completely. She didn’t even care about the things in that box anymore.

The box - which had been filled with objects and memories that belonged to her ex-lover - was soon disposed of, truly marking the end of her ties to her past relationship. Those memories had already gotten dull and dusty the moment she committed to the current love of her life.

She gazed at Sukuna with a smile, mesmerised, the morning she had fully recovered from her flu.

“How lovely you are.”

He seemed confused from the abrupt compliment, but his ears still turned a little pink. She hugged him as tight as ever.

Masterlist

Notes; my goodness, i apologise for being so late lmao

been a while, so this chapter may be a little confusing(?) because the end kinda stems off from a previous chapter

thank you for being so patient, im thinking of finishing this fic up soon so please look forward to it (tho it will probably take a while for me to write)

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[russellsppttemplates]

The best thing about love (Mick Schumacher)

Note: english is not my first language, and she was finally able to post her idea all along (again, some were inspired by songs)

Tumble has decided to temper with me again, so here's part 3 of What if I were like them (Part 1) and You'll always be (Part 2)

Thank you so so so much for the love you gave to the part 1 🤍

Feedback is appreciated 🤍 and although I'm not taking requests per se, if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so!

Tag: @emturtles (is this how you do it? I have no idea, I'm a technological grandma most times)

Tw: curse words, mentions relationship break-up, selfconcious/doubtful reader, small earring accident

Part 1

Part 2

Mick was ready to tell you just how much of an amazing woman he thought you were when he heard the window from the other room open, revealing his mother wrapped in her bed robe, "Good morning, what are you guys doing here at this time of the day?", Corinna said as she joined you both, Mick getting up to press a kiss to her forehead and hug her, "Good morning, I was having trouble sleeping so I came here", you replied, "I couldn't sleep either, so we're watching the sunrise", Mick said briefly, "Well, I say we wake Gina up and start getting ready so we can enjoy race Sunday to the fullest", she clapped her hands, ushering everyone to their room. Heading to your and Gina's room, you gently shook her wake, telling her about her mother's plan as you both got ready.

Mick had tried to catch you alone during breakfast but to no avail as his mother and sister unknowingly stayed with either of you on the table, then heading to the paddock where he knew couldn't let other things cloud his mind, wanting to be focused on the race ahead.

"You never actually told me what you were doing up at that stupid hour", Gina said as you both sat in the sofa you had fallen asleep on the previous day, coffee already in your hand to prevent that from happening again, "I couldn't sleep any longer, and I thought I might as well go and see the sunrise, had my notebook with me too", you smiled before taking a sip, "And then Mick joined me, he said he couldn't sleep either". Gina thought of how she could guide the subject to you and Mick without seeming to suspicious and awkward, reaching the conclusion that she couldn't do it properly and the place they were in might not give you the ease to do so, changing the subject to the races as they watched some drivers do some practice laps and the different teams doing the finishing touches on the cars.

You had left the room before lunch to go to the bathroom just as Mick had his own plate ready, sitting next to his sister as their mum went around the food buffet, "Where's Y/N?", he said scanning the room for you, "She went to the bathroom. You seem to be very concerned about her lately", Gina pushed again, wanting to confirm her hypothesis, thinking that if she insisted enough with her brother he would come clean about his intentions, "How mad would you be if I told that, hypothetically, I wanted to make a move on Y/N? For maybe an hypothetical relationship?", Mick said in the softest voice possible, bracing himself for whatever impact his sister's next words could have on him. Giggling like a school girl, Gina checked around to see you getting inside the room and discussing what seemed to be some food with Corinna, "I knew it!", she whisper-yelled to her brother, "I knew it, you like Y/N", she snickered, receiving a flustered look from her brother, "It's just, I guess I never noticed anything beyond it, I thought it was the usual, she's always been a part of our life and she's your bestfriend too, but the other day I read her notebook, and I was so angry at how someone else had made her feel like that, and then spending some time with her has made everything surface I guess", Mick rambled, his sister's smile getting impossibly larger at his honesty, "All I'm going to say is that if you're sure you want it, then go for it. But she's my bestfriend, and if you ever do anything wrong to her, don't expect me to defend you", she let out, "The team needs you to be on it today, but after focusing on here, you have the whole week free to talk to her, so focus now!", Gina said as you were reaching the table, "Focus because I came here for a good race", you exclaimed as you sat next to Mick as Corinna had her cardigan on the other chair, making it unavailable for you, not that you minded. The Schumacher siblings were looking at you with a massive smile, "you're right, so keep your head in the game Mick", Gina jumped in once she figured her brother was lost for words. Lunch was eaten over a comfortable conversation until someone called for Mick so he could start his pre-race routine, making him hug his mother and sister before coming to hug you too, "be safe out there and have a good one", you told him as he squeezed your body one more time and left.

You moved to the garage as they were bringing the car to his place on the grid, anxiously waiting for the lights to go out. The race had been going really well for Mick, granting him P6 and two consecutive GP weekends with points. As everyone congratulated the team, a few members even came up to you for a hug and some small talk about what Mick could potentially achieve in the season.

When he arrived back in the garage, he hugged his team and family before getting to you, "I knew you could do it! You'll be up there before you know it", you hugged him and, in the middle of the whole excitement, he pulled you off of your feet, spinning you in his arms as you both laughed, his mother and sister looking at you both, "Do you know something I don't, Gina-Maria?", Corinna asked her eldest who had a knowing smile on her lips, "Maybe you were right after all", she said before she joined the celebration.

After you came back from Austria, you decided to invite Mick, Corinna and Gina to your place for some lunch as a thank you for the amazing weekend you had. You and Mick had ended up being the only ones with availability for lunch, and since you and Mick has been talking a lot more since the race, wether it was via phonecall or some texts, you took this as an opportunity to really see to your heart's desire. Hearing a bark outside your door, you recognised Angie's fluffy fur joining you when you opened the door, "Hello beautiful, how are you? Did you miss me?", you said as she licked your hands, seeing Mick as you looked up. Greeting him with a hug and a kiss on each cheek, you welcomed him in to your place as you also opened the door to the back garden where Angie could enjoy the outside area safely since you had fences, "how have you been?", Mick asked after you politely declined his offer for help, "I've been good, just enjoying the days off, and you?", you prompted after setting the food on the table, the agreed meal between you both given Mick's plan making the room smell heavenly as Mick offered to serve you.

Opting to have some fruit for dessert outside, you carried the plate and set in on the table just in time for Angie's jump on you, her head nuzzling on your legs as she asked for belly rubs, her tail wagging in your face as Mick laughed along with you, "you're such a cute dog, aren't you? The cutest" you said as you felt something snag on your ear, "shit, that hurt", you muttered. Mick helped Angie down from your lap, "What happened?", he asked as he saw your hand go to your ear, "I think my earing is caught in my top", you whimpered on pain as you moved your neck slightly, only for it to snag some more. Shuffling closer to you, Mick offered, "Here, I can do it", he said before he carefully took the back of the earing and released the embroidered fabric, "there all good" he whispered on your shoulder as he placed the little piece back where it belonged, brushing your hair back.

A few more points to Mick in leaving you flustered with simple actions like clasping an earring, "Thank you, these things are pretty and all but you just make the wrong move and it's all tangled", you smiled back at him. You played with Angie some more until she decided she was tired and just laid next to you and Mick on the grass, various conversation topics arising until your writing came up, "are you doing anything about it? I used to love reading your things" Mick said, knowing he was entering dangerous waters but also wanting to know more about it, "I didn't give it much thought until recently, I didn't really write when I was in a relationship, which was weird as every story I used to write was always a fairy tale happy ending, do you remember?", you snickered, "you were always a hopeless romantic Y/N", he mused. He remembered all of those stories, now wishing he could be the one to make you feel and experience all the romatic things you had written. You got up and grabbed your book from the windowsill where you left it that morning, "I've been thinking about doing a kind of illustration with some of the verses, but I'm not sure yet", you sat down next to Mick, showing him some verses you had written until you reached the loose sheet with Angie's paw outline on it, remembering you had been interrupted when you were trying to feel how you felt around Mick and how he felt about you. "You know, you're an amazing person. What happened does not translate anything on your behalf, it's his loss that he let you go like that. And it's his stupidity to let you go", you noticed how Mick closed his fist before continuing, "you're all anyone could ever want, you're enough, God, you're more than enough", he confessed with a glint in his eye as he looked at you, "anyone who gets to call you their other half is going to be the luckiest person ever". And there was something else in his speech, could it be? You had felt a switch in the last few weeks, but for all you knew it could be just your imagination and maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, but now you decided to take a gamble, "I wrote this when we were in Austria, and no matter how much I told myself that it wasn't directed at anyone in particular, it was about you... or for you in a way, I guess", you explained as you opened the notebook on the page you wanted to show Mick. Unlike the one he had read before, this page did not have tears stains on it or the creeper-ivy and instead there were cornflowers around the text, a flower he knew to mean hope in/for love.

My future love

I apologize in advance

I carry ounds from scenarios

From who broke my heart

My future love

I ask you to be patient

I know that sometimes I do the opposite

I don't let myself be loved

Just to be prudent

What if I am no one's love

And if these heavy dreams of past loves

Are evil shadows

Or sincere fears

I'm hostage of sincere fears

When all I want is

The best thing about love

My future love

Promise it will be different

I just want you to stay by my side

Help me to be happy with you

And if one day it's meant to be

I promise not to fear for our imperfect

And if it ever ends

Jst tell me you're going to remember

What of us was once perfect

Mick grabbed your hand in his when he was done reading, "I'll wait as long as you need me to, but if you'll let me, I will do everything in my power to show you just how much I appreciate you and show you how you deserve to be treated, I'll show you the best thing about love if you'll trust me to do so", he looked at you, his blue eyes glued to yours as a million and one things went through your mind. You had told Mick you liked him, showing him a written note you wrote just for him. He read it. He said that he liked you back and promised you the moon and the stars. This wasn't your average Wednesday. "I want you to be mine, even though you're all yours. Choose me despite having yourself and knowing that that is enough, I want to be a part of someone who is whole by herself. It would make me the happiest man on earth", he whispered, his forehead now against yours, his lips so close to yours you could feel every word that came out of his mouth on your own. Since the gamble you took earlier did well, you went in for a second, gently pressing your lips on the corner of Mick's mouth, not wanting to risk it too much if he didn't want to, that was until he full on kissed you, his lips releasing all of those pent up feelings. "Is all of that, what you said...", you tried to form a cohesive train of thought, "I know my job has particularities and I may not be here as much as you need me to, but I'll never make you feel second best, or second anything for that matter. I don't want to push you, we'll do things as you feel comfortable to, but you have my heart, Y/N Y/L/N, and I don't mind one bit that you keep it", making you reply with a kiss that expressed all of the feelings you looked forward to explore with Mick.

#mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher fic #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[amirsirwrites]

Feelings for KAY/O ❤️

It's a little rushed at the end because I just wanted to finish it fast. Got a bit of a stomachache today. Enjoy reading :)

Not requested

KAY/O x GN!reader

------

“But can he even feel emotions?” you were mulling over every single possibility right now. You’ve developed feelings for a certain robot who joined the Valorant Protocol but you weren’t taking it too well, not because you hated those feelings but because you weren’t sure if KAY/O would reciprocate them.

Jett and Phoenix were there to help you with your mini breakdown.

Phoenix slapped you on the back, “C’mon, bruv. Sure he can! I think… Well I mean he’s always so sarcastic, that’s gotta count for somethin’.” He looked to Jett for some support.

She wrapped her arm around your shoulder, backing Phoenix up, “Yeah, dongsaeng! Keep your head up, I’m sure he does. You just gotta shoot your shot.”

You sighed, rubbing the back of your head with your hand. Confessing wasn’t something you even thought about until now. You decided that before anything else, you’d go to KAY/O to ask some questions.

~~~~~~

KAY/O spends most of his time in the training room perfecting his fighting style. He requested for Max Bot to be repaired, claiming that he was the best sparring partner he’s ever had. While that may be true, everyone likes to joke that KAY/O just wants to prove that he’s the better bot of the two.

You watched him from behind the bullet-proof windows as he maneuvered skilfully over and around all the obstacles while attacking Max Bot. He had a rather aggressive fighting style so to someone like you who was more passive, you couldn’t help but be impressed by his fearlessness on field.

When he was finished with his training, he looked up to see you waving at him from the waiting room. He gave you a little wave back and walked over, going through the automatic doors. You sat in one of the swivel chairs while KAY/O went over to the work table to clean his firearm.

“So, what brings you here, Y/n?” he asked, disassembling the gun part by part.

You smiled and replied back, “Good morning to you too, robo man.”

KAY/O doesn’t really have a face so you can’t tell what he’s feeling but you have a hunch that he has a slight grin as he corrects himself, “My bad. Good morning, Y/n. Is there something I can help you with?”

You trace your fingers along the arm of the chair, pondering for a moment before answering back, “Not really help, per se, I just got a few questions for you.”

He glanced up at you for a moment, “Shoot.” before turning his head back down to focus on oiling and polishing the different parts of his gun.

“Well, I’ve been wondering - are you.. like, I dunno, able to feel stuff?”

KAY/O responded, “Physically, emotionally and mentally, yes. I can feel,” he paused and shifted his attention fully onto you, “Why do you ask?”

You shifted in your seat, not entirely sure how to answer his question without seeming suspicious. "Just.. curious. I've been thinking about it for a while, that's all."

He kept his non-existent eyes locked on you, making you avert your gaze from him so that you don't start to fidget from anxiety.

"Uh-huh.. Okay. Any other questions for me?"

Thankfully, he looked back to the table at that point.

You gritted your teeth, asking hesitantly, "Yeah. Do- Do you feel love?"

KAY/O was definitely giving you a strange look after that one. He decided to just answer your question though since he knew that you would be uncomfortable if he insisted on you telling him the truth.

“I do. Believe it or not, I care about you and everyone else. You’re all my friends.”

You nodded slowly and got up. Your poor heart was beating so fast at that point and you were satisfied with his answers so you thanked him, gave him a pat on the shoulder and walked out of the room.

Dear KAY/O was left confused.

~~~~~~

You started to become more and more nervous around KAY/O over the next few days. It was hard to focus whenever he was around. Since you started acting weirdly around him, KAY/O was worried that he’d done something to upset you.

He didn’t confront you about your behaviour, fearing that it would worsen the situation. And you didn’t tell him the truth about how you felt because you were too scared to do so. Yikes.

And then Brimstone assigned both of you on a team mission to Ascent. Shit hit the fan pretty quickly from the moment you arrived. The enemy team had a tight hold on B site, meaning retake was going to be a pain in the ass. If that wasn’t bad enough, both you and KAY/O were uncoordinated and underperforming due to the tension between you two.

Brimstone had enough and pulled the two of you to the side, “I don’t know what’s going on between you two but you better sort it out now. We cannot afford conflicts within our own team, especially right now.” He walked back to the rest of the team to give you privacy.

KAY/O sighed, “So. What’s going on?”

You clicked your tongue and looked to the robot, “Erm...”

“Just tell me, Y/n. Did I say or do something or what?”

Turning to him, you shook your head, “No, of course not! It’s.. It’s just my dumb emotions.”

‘It’s now or never,’ you thought to yourself. You took a deep breath, “Alright! Listen, KAY/O.. The reason I’ve been acting so strange is because I. have. feelings. for. you.”

He stared at you blankly.

“That’s why? Ah.. you humans are so weird. You should have just told me! Come here, Y/n.” He gently pulled you closer to him with one hand around your waist and another cupping the side of your face. He leaned in and kissed you. It was more like you kissing him since he didn't have a mouth but it was essentially the same thing.

With that kiss, all your initial worries went away. Now you just felt kind of silly about being so uptight about the whole thing.

He pulled away and gently stroked your cheek. "After we're done kicking their asses, I'll take you out on a date. Dinner, movie, dancing, it's up to you. That sound good, Y/n?"

You whispered a soft 'yes' and gave him a peck on the cheek while blushing. You could sense his smile.

Even though you wanted to stay like that, the both of you had to rush back to complete the mission when you heard Brimstone shouting for you. You couldn't wait for that date. :)

------

'Dongsaeng' - Little sibling (Korean)

#kay/o x reader #gender neutral reader #valorant x reader #valorant kay/o #one shot

[sequinsmile-x]

Allegiance - Chapter 2

It was nice to finally have someone who was on her side, someone who would always put her first.

A Young Hotchniss story with a twist.

Chapter 2 of 3

Chapter 1

-x-

Hi friends,

This is part 2 of my fic for @sapphoe-sun.

Thank you all so much for the love on chapter 1, writing something like this, where the timeline builds differently, is always a little nerve wracking so your comments and reblogs mean the world!!

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: Pregnancy, mommy issues, complicated mother/daughter relationship

Words: 4.7k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

It feels like she’s underwater. 

Everything around her is muffled, her senses dulled as she tries, and fails, to get back on course. Her short conversation with her mother had turned her world on its axis, everything shifting in a way she hadn’t been prepared for. 

She gets through the rest of the working day, avoiding her husband and his many attempts to make sure she’s okay as the day goes on. She knows he means well, that the look that had flashed through his eyes the moment she burst into the team meeting late was nothing more than loving concern, but she can’t talk about it at work. She can’t open that box she’d locked all those years ago, the lid knocked aside by her mother’s visit, by the card with her contact details buried deep in Emily’s purse. 

As soon as she gets home she pushes the feelings aside, intent on spending a normal evening with her children, to allow the comfort they always brought her wash over her. Soothing the wounds her mother had reopened, the edges torn and fresh after being sewn together for so many years. 

She can feel Aaron watching her, his concern increasing as she fakes a smile for their children, lingering even closer than usual. Rosie and Oliver don’t see through the facade, too young to see the desperate edge to their mother’s smile. Ivy sticks even closer to her than Aaron. The pre-teen was always helpful, although it rarely came without a side dish of sass like it did this evening. 

Despite his comments that morning, a moment that felt like it was a lifetime ago, Aaron takes Oliver upstairs for his bath and then puts him to bed. He does the same with Rosie, the little girl demanding her father’s presence, since he apparently was better at braiding her hair, and it means Emily is downstairs with Ivy. 

She has to convince her daughter that she can clean up from dinner by herself, smiling softly as the girl who would usually turn her nose up at doing the dishes seems insistent on helping. Eventually Ivy relents, her dark eyes swimming with worry for her mother, and she heads to the living room, the TV show she’d put on echoing throughout the downstairs of their home. 

Emily cleans the kitchen, grateful for the distraction, taking her time to make sure everything is just right. As she puts the leftovers in the fridge, her eyes land on an old photo of her and Aaron that was hanging from a magnetic clip. It was one of three lined up next to each other, every one of them taken when she was pregnant with each of their children, something Aaron had done because he initially thought it was sweet, but kept up because Ivy claimed it was embarrassing when her friends were over. 

What gets Emily’s attention is the first photo in the line-up. Her focus is on just how young she looks, on her palm resting on the bump that safely held the baby that ended up being Ivy. It makes her stomach twist and her eyes burn as it inevitably makes her think of her mother as thinking of her first pregnancy often did. 

It had been 12 and a half years since she’d last seen her, since Elizabeth had walked out of the apartment Emily had shared with Aaron at the time and never looked back, as she once again chose something else over her daughter. Something Emily hadn’t been able to wrap her mind around at the time and she hadn’t even met her kid yet. 

It made her angrier as the years went on. As her love for Ivy and then Roise and Oliver got stronger every day. She’d do anything for her children, she’d always be on their side, and it made her even sadder that her own mother had never been able to do the same for her, all the while making her determined that her kids would never feel like they came in second place. 

When her mother had walked away, both fulfilling Emily’s request at the time and breaking her heart in the same moment, Emily made the choice to not tell her that she was pregnant. A conscious effort to start protecting her baby from the life she no longer wanted to be a part of from that moment on. When she and Aaron moved into their house, the same place they still lived now, she didn’t forward the address to Elizabeth. She never called her, and a part of her had always hoped her mother would be the one to reach out, aware that if any damage to their relationship was going to be repaired it was up to Elizabeth to break the silence, to bring them back together, stitching their pieces back into place with apologies and patience as Emily rebuilt her already shaky trust. 

But years passed, then more than a decade, and now the sudden reappearance of her mother had unsettled her, and she was left feeling as if she’d have been better off it she’d never come back. 

Emily runs her finger over the photo, and she lets out a steady breath, her vision going blurry as her eyes well with tears. 

“Mom, I’m going to head up to bed-”

She sniffs and wipes away her tears, plastering a smile on her face as she looks at Emily, “Ok, do you need anything?” 

There’s a beat of silence, Ivy’s eyes searching her face before she steps towards Emily, “Mom, what’s wrong?” 

Her smile tightens and she crosses her arms over her chest, physically holding herself together, “Nothing, honey. I’m fine.”

Ivy creases her brow, looking exactly like Aaron as she does so, and she steps even further forward, “You’re lying-”

“Ivy. Can you please just leave it?” She snaps and she immediately feels awful. She sighs as she looks up at her eldest, only feeling worse at the hurt shining in her wide eyes, and Emily covers her mouth for a moment, capturing a sad sigh before it can escape, “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry that was uncalled for. I’ve had a hard day and I shouldn’t have taken out on you,” she smiles at Ivy, “You were just trying to be kind.” 

Ivy nods, still looking unsure as she looks Emily up and down, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, “Can I help?”

“Oh, Ivy, you already do,” she says, tugging Ivy into a hug she gratefully returns, her hands tight in the back of Emily’s shirt, “You help just by being you.” 

Ivy nods against her and pulls back just enough to look at her, “Was your boss mean? Is that why it was a hard day?” she asks, smiling wryly, a wicked spark in her eyes. It was a running joke between them, Emily would make a comment that her boss had been hard on her that day, and Aaron would simply roll his eyes and shake his head at his wife, “Because I can ask him a question about sex whilst we have breakfast tomorrow and his head would explode.” 

Emily laughs, a genuine thing that bursts free from her at her daughter's comment. Ivy’s smile blooms across her face, telling Emily that was the exact reaction she’d been hoping for, and she hugs her even tighter. 

“As much as I would love to see that, sweet girl,” she says, tucking Ivy’s hair behind her ear, once again feeling nostalgic for when she was tiny, “Your dad didn’t do anything wrong, I promise,” she smiles softly, “If anything I was a bad employee today.” 

“Things always look clearer in the morning, Mom,” she says, repeating the words Emily had said to her only a few weeks ago when she was upset that she’d fallen out with her friend.

Emily nods and kisses Ivy’s forehead, “You’re right,” she says, “Now go to bed, lights off in-”

“20 minutes, I know,” Ivy replies, hugging her once more before she pulls away, “Love you, Momma.” 

She can’t help the tears that burn in her eyes again at the sound of the name she hadn’t heard in a few years from her eldest, and she’s grateful that her daughter is already walking away, that she can’t see them escape and slip onto her cheeks. 

“Love you too, Ivy. So much.” 

___

She sighs as she takes books from the shelf and places them into the box next to her, rolling her eyes at her, currently absent, boyfriend as she thinks of his instructions for her to not do any heavy lifting whilst he is gone. On some level, she’s sure it should annoy her more that he’s being so protective, that he’s following her doctor's instructions to the letter, but she likes it. She loves how much he loves her, how much he loves their kid long before they were even born. 

She’s sure as her pregnancy goes along she’ll get more irritated at him, but for now, she’s content to let him have his way. Even if it meant her usefulness for their move was regulated to simply packing away books and VHS tapes. 

She’s interrupted from pulling another book from the shelf by a knock at the door. She blows out a breath as she checks her watch. 

If her mother was one thing, she was punctual. 

Emily’s stomach swoops as she stands up straight, forcing her to lean against the bookshelf for a moment, her other hand low on her belly. 

“If you don’t make me throw up before I tell her about you, you can have whatever toys you want,” she says quietly before she stands up straight and heads towards the door. She grasps the door handle tightly and gives herself a moment before she opens it, forcing a smile on her face as her mother comes into view, “Mother, hi,” she says standing back to let her in, “you’ll have to excuse the mess, we’re in the middle of packing. Aaron had to go to work but he should be back soon.” 

Elizabeth furrows her brow as she turns to look at her, “Packing for what?” she asks, seemingly ignoring the rest of what Emily had said. 

Emily sighs, clenching her teeth for a moment to stop herself from biting so soon after her mother had come over. 

“We’re moving, remember?” She says, closing the door, “We told you weeks ago. We bought a house.” 

It was a decision they’d made before they found out they were having a baby, a fortuitous choice that meant they’d already started looking and put in an offer before Emily realised why she’d been tired for weeks. They wanted more space and no more noisy neighbours that they always seemed to have in any apartment building they’d ever lived in. 

At first, she’d pictured the house as their fortress. Somewhere they could both go after a long, hard day at work and feel safe. Somewhere they could be themselves, free from the expectations that everyone except each other seemed to have. Now, it would be her child’s home.

Something she had never had herself when growing up. 

“You both bought it?” Elizabeth asks as she sits down on the couch, her implication clear. Emily sighs as she walks the short distance to the kitchen and gets out a wine glass to pour her mother some, not needing to ask what she wants to drink. 

“We used money from my trust fund,” she says, getting the reaction that she knows it will, and she has a sick sense of satisfaction as she watches her mother try to school her features, her eyes briefly flashing with indignation. She walks over and hands Elizabeth the wine before she sits on the other end of the couch, “It makes sense, it means we were able to get somewhere nicer.” 

“Is his name on the deed?” 

“Yes.” 

Elizabeth sighs, “Emily-”

“It’s my money, Mother. It was put in that fund for me to access after I turned 21 and this is what I am choosing to do with part of it,” she sighs, blowing out a steady breath as she tries to stop herself from getting angrier, “And I’ve been with Aaron for four years, when are you going to stop implying he’s in this for my money.” 

There is a long moment of silence, a protracted stand-off between the two of them before Elizabeth sips her wine and raises her eyebrow at her daughter. 

“Are you not having any?” 

Emily looks at the glass of wine in her mother’s hand, and she has to stop herself from placing her hand on her stomach, not wanting to give anything away until she is ready. “No, not today.” 

If Elizabeth thinks that is strange, she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she sips her wine again before she looks Emily up and down carefully, “You left early last night,” she says, “Without saying goodbye.”

Emily swallows thickly, pushing down nausea that tries to climb up her throat at the memory of the night before, at the way she’d felt nothing short of dirty after Robert had tried to hit on her. 

“Sorry about that,” she says, proud of herself for her voice staying even, “I didn’t feel very well so Aaron brought me home.” 

Elizabeth hums as if she doesn’t believe her, “So it had nothing to do with Robert Collins?”

She knows she doesn’t recover her reaction this time, her eyes going wide as her mother says the last thing she’d expected to hear. “What?”

“Robert told me about your…misunderstanding,” Elizabeth says, clearing her throat, “He seems to think you and Aaron may have misconstrued his intentions as he was trying to catch up with you.”

Emily scoffs, her fury burning in her chest as she shakes her head. That bastard.

“You mean when he was hitting on me? There was nothing to misunderstand about that.”

Elizabeth sighs and places her glass down on the coffee table, “Emily, he’s an old friend-”

“He crowded me against a wall. He put squeezed my hip, I know exactly what he was intending,” she says, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest, anger starting to thrum in her veins in a way that made it impossible to stay still, forcing her to pace slightly, “He was hitting on me, Mom,” she says, repeating her initial rebuttal, hating the desperation she can hear in her voice.

“Emily, Robert has always been tactile,” Elizabeth says, shaking her head at her, “I think it was a little dramatic to leave because of it.” 

Emily stares at her mother, and her anger immediately fades. Dampened out by the sadness that takes its place, making her shoulders sag in a way she knows is visible. 

“You don’t believe me.” The words hang heavily in the air between them, and Elizabeth’s silence is the only answer Emily needs. She sighs and shakes her head, looking up at the ceiling to stop herself from crying, intent on not letting the tears to escape in front of her mother. “I need you to go.”

“Emily-”

“I meant it when I said I don’t feel well,” she says, purposely not disclosing why, any thoughts of sharing her happy news with her mother long gone, “So I need you to go,” she says, wringing her hands in front of her, watching her mother as she stands up, “And…I think it’s best if we don’t speak for a while.”

She’s saying it before she knows she’s going to, the words flowing free. She knows she would never have said it if she wasn’t pregnant, if it wasn’t just her she had to defend, but she wants to protect her kid from this. From the life she’d always hated and never wanted. 

From the woman who should love her enough to always stand by her side, no matter what. 

Elizabeth shakes her head, “Emily you’re being-”

“I never ask anything of you,” she says, cutting her off, “Never. So please, just do this for me.”

There’s another silent stand-off, a moment of silence that is infinitely faster than the last, and Elizabeth nods before sighing and picking up her bag before walking past her daughter. She makes it to the door before she turns around.

“Emily?”

There’s a flash of hope, a spark of something that makes her feel foolish in her belly, “Yes?” 

She watches as her mother considers her options, never able to hide things from her daughter as well as she thinks she can, and Emily sees the moment that she loses. When she comes second once again. 

“Good luck with the move.”

Elizabeth is gone and out of the apartment, and seemingly Emily’s life, before she can respond. 

___

Aaron has been worried about his wife for hours. Concern simmering on a boil low in his belly ever since she’d burst into their meeting late. She was flustered, a word he’d never used to describe his wife, and there was something he couldn’t quite place, a shadow of something he hadn’t seen in years, flashing in her eyes whenever they met his. 

She avoids him throughout the day, purposely making sure they are never alone at work, and he knows it’s so she’s buying time to process whatever has upset her by herself. He’s loved long enough, and he liked to think well enough, to know she needed this, so he waits her out. He offers to put Oliver to bed, joking and laughing with his son as he washes finger paint from under his clothes, whilst also wondering how he’d got it there. And then he puts Rosie to bed, the little girl chatty in a way that neither he nor Emily could figure out where she had got it from. Eventually, she’d fallen asleep against him and he’d lowered her into bed, kissing his little girl’s forehead before he sneaks out of the room. 

He makes a point of giving his wife space, of going to his home office and doing some paperwork he’d neglected recently. He hears Emily head upstairs eventually before their shower turns on, the familiar clink of it as the pipes warm up letting him know what she was doing. Once he’s done with his paperwork, his concern for his wife finally wins out and he goes upstairs, walking quietly past his children’s bedrooms. 

He smiles as she pushes the master bedroom door open and finds Emily lying down with Rosie snuggled up against her, her face hidden in her mother’s neck. He frowns slightly in confusion as he closes the door behind them, unsure how he hadn’t heard his youngest daughter sneak out of her bedroom and into theirs, something she’d done ever since she was big enough to escape her crib. 

“She ok?” he asks, approaching the bed and leaning down to kiss his wife’s forehead. Emily nods and smiles.

“She had a bad dream,” Emily whispers, “I didn’t have it in me to take her back to her room.” 

He smiles as he pulls back to look at her, well aware that what he is witnessing is just as much for Emily as it is for Rosie. She’d been the same with all of the kids, always willing to let them sleep in with them if they wanted to, correcting something from her own childhood as she remembered how she’d always be sent back to her own room and told she was a ‘big girl,’ even when she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach the door handle. 

He had no issue with it either, well aware that in the years to come they’d both miss when their kids needed them less and less, and he knew the kids loved it too. Even Ivy wasn’t above sneaking in occasionally in the middle of the night, seeking comfort from her mother when she was either sick or sad. 

It was something he wished he could go back and tell Emily when she was pregnant with Ivy and doubting her ability as a mother. He wishes he could tell her that she would end up being the centre of all of their children’s worlds as well as his, the thing that held their family together. 

“I’ll just get ready for bed,” he says, kissing his wife’s forehead again before he heads for the bathroom. He makes quick work of his nighttime routine, wanting nothing more than to snuggle up in bed with his wife and their daughter. 

He’s barely settled next to her when she turns to look at him, her lips pressed together and her eyes shining. She tightens her hold on Rosie, one of her hands skating up and down the little girl’s back, and she clears her throat. 

“My…” she pauses and chuckles humourlessly, feeling as if just saying it out loud made it more real, “My mother came to my office today.” 

Whatever he had been expecting her to say, it hadn’t been that. It takes him a moment to react, familiar anger at his mother-in-law burning in his veins. 

“She what?” 

“Yeah,” she chokes out, her throat closing up as she fails to push down the emotions she’s been keeping in her chest all day, “She just…showed up. After all of these years, like it hasn’t been 12 fucking years,” she wipes a stray tear from her cheek, “I managed to get rid of her because  I was running late for that meeting, but she gave me her card. Wants me to call her. How can she turn up after all of this time?” 

He wishes he had an answer for her, that he could make this better, but he can’t. Instead, he shifts closer, pulling her and Rosie into his arms, and he kisses the top of Emily’s head. He has plenty of things he wants to say, plenty of things he would love to call Elizabeth and say to her himself, but he knows it isn’t the time. 

“Do you want to see her?” he asks, well aware that is what she would have been thinking about all day, wanting to come to a decision before she spoke to him. 

“I think I need to know what she wants,” she says, tilting her head to look up at him, “But I don’t want her to come here. Or to meet the kids,” she adds, turning her head to kiss Rosie’s forehead.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he says, stamping a kiss to her lips when she turns back to him. 

“You’ll come with me, right?” she asks, an edge of uncertainty to her voice he hadn’t heard in over a decade, and he immediately nods. 

“Of course,” he replies, kissing her again, “I’ll always be right by your side.” 

___

She manages to hold herself together, to force herself to keep packing until Aaron gets home, going through the motions as if her life hadn’t just changed. She’s never been more relieved to hear the scrape of his key in the door lock, but she tenses as she realises she will have to tell him what happened, reliving something she hadn’t even fully processed yet. 

Aaron walks into the living room and sucks air between his teeth as he sees his girlfriend alone, “Sorry I left you alone with your mother, I tried to get away.” 

“It’s ok,” she says, turning to look at him, her smile tight in a way that makes concern bubble in his belly, “She didn’t stay long. And I didn’t tell her,” she says, continuing to take books from the shelf and placing them into the box in front of her, purposely not looking at him because she knows it would be her final straw, the last pull at the single thread holding her together. 

“You didn’t tell her what, sweetheart?” he asks, even though he’s sure he already knows the answer. He walks towards her but leaves a gap between them, well aware that she is on edge. He could see it in the tightness of her shoulders, the tension in her jaw. A sharp edge to her that only her mother could bring out of her. 

“I didn’t tell her about the baby,” she says, swallowing thickly, holding onto the book in her hand so tight that the spine of it creases, “She…” she sighs and chokes on a laugh, “Robert told her his side of what happened last night, and he believed him. Even after I told her my point of view.” 

He sighs, closing his eyes and clenching his fists at his sides, allowing himself a moment to bathe in the anger, to let it take over, before he lets it go just as quickly, well aware that she didn’t need him to be angry. 

She needed him to love her. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, finally closing the gap between them. He takes the book out of her hands places it in the box in front of her and turns her into his arms. She immediately succumbs to his embrace, her arms tight around his back as she buries her face in his chest. He kisses the top of her head and holds her back just as tightly, wishing more than anything that he could take this pain away from her, “I’m so sorry.”

“I can’t do it anymore, Aaron. I can’t keep trying,” she says, her words slightly muffled by his shirt until she pulls back to look at him, tears shining in her eyes down her cheeks, “Especially with the baby coming. I won’t put my kid through it.” 

He cups her cheek and wipes a tear away from it, smiling sadly as she leans into the touch, seeking him out even though they were pressed so closely together, “What do you mean sweetheart?”

“I told her not to contact me for a while,” she says, her lip trembling, “She didn’t even remember we were moving. She doesn’t have the address. I didn’t tell her…” she drifts off, one of her hands leaving his back to press into her still flat stomach, “I don’t want to expose our kid to any of that. None of it. So, I think it’s best if we don’t see her anymore. Not until she can see what she’s done. What she’s always done.” 

Aaron sighs, they’d been walking towards this for a while, he knew that. The path steady and consistent as Elizabeth continually let her daughter down. Whatever Emily wanted to do, he’d support her in it. He’d stand by her and love her, even if somewhere down the road she decided she wanted to fix things with her mother. 

“Why don’t we go to bed,” he says, wiping tears from her cheeks again before leaning forward and kissing her forehead, “We can figure it all out tomorrow. Things are-”

“Always clearer in the morning,” she says, smiling as she finishes off what he was going to say. A mantra of sorts that had started back when they were freshly dating and trying to make long-distance work after a summer where they’d barely spent a day apart. 

“Exactly,” he says, leaning forward and stamping his lips against hers, holding her face in place as he pulls back, “You’re going to be an amazing mom, Em,” he says, holding her impossibly tighter as he presses a kiss to the top of her head. She pulls back to look at him, tears shining in her eyes. 

“You think so?” she asks, a shake to her voice and her smile and makes him want to go round to see Elizabeth and tell her exactly what he thinks, but he shakes it off, knowing that Emily didn’t need him to do that.

“I know so,” he replies, stamping a kiss against her lips, “I love you.” 

She smiles up at him, “I love you too.” 

She had him. The family they were building, and that would be enough. 

-x-

Tag list:

@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis-22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth, @wanderingdreamer009, @ssablackbird, @luhwithah, @lex13cm, @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream, @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield, @canuck-eh

Join my tag list here!

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #aaron x emily #emily prentiss fanfiction #Young Hotchniss

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

@missusnora​ I hope you like this.

Pairing:  Éomer x fem reader.

Themes: Some angst | soft | fluff | smut | Slow burn

Warnings: Explicit content of a sexual nature | minors DNI

Word count: 3137 words 

The toddler giggled on her father’s lap, runny nose and all. You give her a soft wafer and hand over a bottle to her father. “Make sure she takes a small spoonful of this, once in the morning, once just before bed, and she’ll be as right as rain in a couple of days.”

The farmer took the bottle and stored it away carefully in his bag. “I’ll make sure Livitha takes it. Good evening to you, miss.” In one swift move, he lifted his daughter into his arms and walked off.

And you collapsed into a nearby chair as soon as the door closed behind him. The last patient of the day, from Rohan anyway.

Six months. You had been here six months after accidentally walking through a portal in your world, and ending up in this one. A slip-up, the wizard Gandalf had said, after one of his students, a novice Maia, experimented a tad too much with a spell. They had been working around the clock to try and open the portal again, for you to go back home, to your place and time. Alas, it had been unsuccessful so far.

The door opened, and you sighed. “Another patient, captain Gerold?”

“No. Just me.”

"Your grace!" The smile that lit your face came unbidden. “Finally! Someone that does not need poking and prodding!”

Éomer was leaning against the door post, watching you. “Tired, y/n?” 

“Uggghh!” You sink even deeper into your chair and invite him to join you. “If only you knew.”

He grinned and made his way over to a counter, picking up a goblet and a pitcher of water. “If you need a break, you need only ask.”

“Ooooh!” You clapped your hands and sat up immediately. A little holiday was just what you needed. “A vacation? Can I have one?” When he brought over a goblet of cool water for you, you thank him. “The mountains maybe? No! A sunny beach, with lots of drinks that come in fancy glasses with tiny umbrellas in them!” 

Éomer arched an eyebrow. In the beginning, he would have been confused with words such as vacation and umbrella, but after six months of listening to you talk of your world, they made sense to him now. “I doubt very much you will find drinks in fancy glasses with umbrellas,” He held his thumb and index finger as close as possible to each other. “This big. And the nearest beach is almost four weeks by carriage.”

He fought back a chuckle when you choked and coughed out your water. Three to four weeks in a carriage, no matter how comfortable, would be a trial for the will. And your will was in no mood to be cooped up in a carriage, days at a time. “You know what,” You looked around for a cloth to clean up the mess you made, and Éomer was more than happy to toss a handkerchief he had to you. “I changed my mind. No. No beaches for me.” 

“Just so.” Éomer grew pensive and sighed. He had just received a letter from Gandalf. He was sure it was about your journey home, and if he was honest with himself, Éomer didn’t want you to go back. After the initial shock of you literally falling on top of him that day when you walked through that portal, he had grown to enjoy your company. He found excuses to spend time with you, even rearranging his kingly duties to allow it. His sister had noticed and insisted he speak his feelings before you left. Éomer always shied away, fearful of saying the wrong thing and complicating everything. In his own words, fighting and king-ing were easy. Matters of the heart, on the other hand, were not.

His mind went back to the letter. His feelings aside, he didn’t want to keep any news from you. “Here.” He handed over the letter he was holding. “This came for you, from Gandalf. I think they may have found a way to get you home.”

The letter felt unwelcome in your hands. You find yourself not wanting to hear possible good news. Why did your heart fill with dread at the thought of leaving Meduseld and going home? Your fingers trembled as they worked on the seal, on the ribbon holding everything together. Your heart fluttered as you rolled open the parchment and read it.

My lady y/n.

Good news, my lady. 

We’ve done it. We’ve found a way to send you, and only you, safely home. Should you still desire to do so, just send the word, and we will make all the arrangements. 

With much fondness,

G.

Your eyes drift to the postscript. 

p.s. The Valar and I are making sure this spell is never used again, and they have more than willingly given leave for you to stay, should you wish to do so. So think very carefully about what you want to do. Once the portal is closed, it will never be open again. 

You gulped. The wizard had indeed found a way. You could go home. Leave Meduseld for good and go back to your old life. 

Éomer coughed, distracting you. You gulped again. If you accepted Gandalf’s offer, you would not only leave this realm for good, you would have to leave Éomer for good. Over the past six months, the two of you had grown close. Conversation came so easily when you were with him. You looked forward to seeing him, spending time with him. It was a feeling you had, that grew and grew, a feeling you could give no name to. And now, the thought of leaving him fills you with dread. “Gandalf-“ You gave the letter for him to read. “Gandalf has found a way it seems, to send me back. I--”

Éomer read the letter and then read it again, one ear trained to what you were saying, hoping against hope you weren’t going to say what he thought you were going to say. 

Don’t say it. Please don’t say it. 

Éomer knew this day might come, but he hoped he still had time to talk to you, ask you to stay. Now it felt like it was already too late, and he cursed himself for his cowardice. He wondered how much time he had left.

“I think I might take him up on the offer. Go home.” Home. To a quiet apartment, the grind of routine, insane hospital shifts, day in, day out, rinse and repeat. You quickly steal a look. Éomer was reading the letter intently. His hands were all bunched up in fists, his knuckles nearly white from the strain, the letter nearly tearing in his hands. He was angry. 

“Home,” he muttered under his breath. “You want to go home?”

“Yes, I want to go home.” The words felt like ash on your tongue. “I’m not sure I belong here, really, and…”

Fearful of the thought of losing you, of you ending up with someone else, Éomer cut you off with an abrupt, “You are not going.”

It came out like an order, and you stood up with a start. “I am not going? I am not going?” You got in Éomer’s face and pointed a finger at him. “Listen, sir, I know the past six months have been nice and all, but I would like to go home.”

“Home?” Éomer stood up and tossed the letter to a side. The both of you squared up like two fighters going against each other. “To a place with no true friends, where you are worked to the bone, for little appreciation and reward?”

“Yes!” You spat, although his words made you question yourself. Why did you want to go back to such a life? “I want that!” 

I think.

He could have given you every possible luxury and comfort he could muster, a life of peace, and to hear you say that angered him even more. “Oh! You want such a miserable life?” Éomer was up in your face now, and his sister was by the door, debating if she should stay out of this argument. Eowyn used her better judgment and quietly closed the door to give you both some privacy. “My lady?” Captain Gerold, and two of his men, stood behind her, wondering what the hullabaloo was all about. “My brother is trying to convince the lady y/n to stay. In the worst possible way imaginable.” Eowyn murmured as she waved her hands about, to shoo them away. “Let us give them some privacy, and pray the king does not bungle this up in glorious fashion.” 

Meanwhile, you and Éomer were still going at it. “Miserable!” You hissed through your teeth. “You want me to stay and insulting my life from before is how you go about doing it?!?”

“Yes!” Éomer quickly rethought the wisdom of his answer and changed tack. “I mean, no! I did not mean to insult your life! I just do not want you to leave!”

“Why don’t you want me to leave?” 

“Because if you leave, I will not be able to come to your realm!” Éomer shot back. “Not being able to travel to your realm means I lose you!”

Because the portal was going to be a one-time thing. The Valar were making sure of it. That still didn’t answer your questions. “And why don’t you want to lose me?”

“Because!” Éomer snorted, his eyes blazed. “Because! Be--” He gave up and sighed, let go of his anger and stopped fighting. The time had come to bare all, and if he didn’t say it now, he never would. “Because I am in love with you. I--” He inched his way closer, till he was right in front of you. “I do not want you to go because, I am in love with you and I do not want to lose you. I want you to stay here, with me.”

“Wha--” It felt as if the wind was taken right out of your sails. Éomer, King of Rohan, one of the greatest warriors of his age, was in love with you. And wants you to stay with him. “I—I don’t know what to say.”

You were taken aback by his confession, and stuck for words. You did not know what else to say, or do. Éomer, however had the answer. “Say yes. Say yes, that you will stay.”

It was still so much to take in. Your mind was a roil. “But--”

“I can look after you, give you the kind of life you deserve.” Éomer gulped, placed his hands on your shoulders. “You can still worker as a healer, if that is your wish, but you will be happier here, I will make sure of it.”

Here. Meduseld. Rohan. On Middle Earth. Away from the stress and grind of it all, with people that genuinely cared about you and where magic was very real. When large, callused hands drifted over your shoulders to your cheeks, the warmth of them made you forget all your worries. “Stay,” It was a plea, and from a king, no less. “Stay here, with me.”

Time seemed to stand still. Éomer waited, hoping for an answer, and then, when he couldn’t wait anymore, he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours.

His kiss was so gentle at first, so tender, as he slowly back you up until you bumped into a table. His hands drifted away from your cheeks, going lower until you felt fingers undoing the clasps and ties of your dress. Feeling more than a little daring, you undid the cords of his doublet, helping him slip it off. When your dress loosened, he stopped, curled a finger under your chin, tilted it up and asked, “Do you want me to?”

You licked your lips, as nerves from before gave way to excitement. “Yes.”

He took his time, hiking up your dress, lifting it over your outstretched arms and tossing it to the floor. Your stays joined it. You felt cold in your shift, but you watched while he undressed himself. Under tunic, boots, breeches, all joined the growing pile on the floor. When the last of his clothes were disposed of you felt your cheeks burn. His body was covered in scars, from battles of old, but that was not all you saw. You quickly lower your gaze, but Éomer tutted and lifted your chin. “Yes?” He asked, his eyes never leaving you.

You were now more certain than ever. “Yes.”

In a move you have to admire, he scooped you up, set you down on the table. “Leg,” He ordered.

You stick out your left leg playfully, giggling when he struggled with the lacings of your shoe. “And here I thought armour was a trial.” Éomer chuckled as he finished up with one shoe and worked on the other. “Women’s fashions are never an easy business,” you teased. “Did your sister never tell you that?”

“More times than I care to recall.” He mumbled and hiked up the skirt of your shift. That too went over your arms and onto the floor. Your eyes dart to the door. “Someone could barge in.”

The door. It was closed, but not locked. Éomer quickly went over and made sure it was locked and bolted before coming back to you. “There,” He crooned and dipped to your neck, drawing out a gasp when his lips glided over your flesh. “No one,” he whispered as his teeth gently nipped. “Is going to disturb us now.”

While one hand hooked around your waist, holding you close, the other hand worked up your body, to your breasts. You felt jolts when he massaged a nipple between his fingers, when his teeth pressed down harder on your skin. You felt yourself grow wet and throb between your thighs. “Éomer,” you breathe, “Don’t stop.”

He loved that, loved hearing his name rolling over your lips. He kissed his way back up to your lips. “Your legs,” He mumbled against between kisses. “Spread them.”

You hesitate for the briefest of moments before resting your legs on your hips. Éomer rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit, drawing out another gasp out of you. You bit your lip, to try and contain your moans. Éomer didn’t want that, not one bit. “Let go for me.” He rasped as he slid in his cock, making your walls stretch for him. “I want to hear every sound you make.”

Every time he went a little further, his name rolled over your lips again, and again. It was like a drug to him, hearing his name spill from your lips. When you managed to open your eyes, rich hazel pulled you in. Éomer let go and plunged in completely, making you cry out as he sunk his cock as deep as he possibly could. Your eyes fly wide open. There’s no protection here, something could happen. “Éomer,” you breath when kisses glide over the shell of your ear. “This is r-risky,” he began nibbling on an earlobe, one arm holding it tight, the other playing with your nipple. “I-I c-could get,” your mind had grown foggy, your body overcome with lust. “I c-could get pregn--”

His kisses had stroked their way down to the curve of your neck. “And?” he mumbled against your skin, his breath growing ragged with each passing second. “What if I want you to carry my child?”

The surety and confidence in his words. “B-but the others--”

He bit down on your flesh again, his cock throbbing and pulsing in your cunt. “Fuck the others.” He pulled away again and cupped your cheek. “I am king, anyone who says speaks against my future wife answers to me.” He fingers gripped into your cheek when he kissed you again, this time with his tongue licking past your parted lips, making you tremble with desperate need. Your arms move away the table and circle his shoulders. It felt like your very breath was being pulled out from your lungs and unable to help yourself, you let one of your hands glide down, to his back. That nearly broke Éomer, and he started moving. Slowly again, gently, his arm around your waist tightened like a vice as he pumped you, bringing the both of you closer and closer to the edge. “Say you will stay,” he mumbled.

You whimpered into his shoulder. “Yes, I’ll stay.”

Éomer kissed your neck again, roughly this time, his teeth biting, his tongue running over the bruised skin. When he pushed in deep and you pulled on his hair, he almost sobbed, it felt so good. Still, he wanted to hear more. “Say you will be mine,” he lifted his head, rested his brow against yours. “Say it.”

Something about the way he said it got your pulse racing like made. “Yes. Yes I’ll be yours.”

When he growled and slammed into you, you bury your face into his shoulder, your moans growing louder, filling the room. Someone would hear, but you had gone beyond the point of caring. All that mattered was the man inside you, what he was making you feel. Your hands dig into his skin, you head rolling back when your orgasm neared. “É-omer,” you couldn’t hold on much longer. “Éomer, I-I’m g-going t-to--”

Teeth sank into your skin hard this time, making you cry out again. “Cum for me,” he grunted as he grabbed onto your hips, to go deeper. “Now.”

It grew intense, so intense, your muscles coiled and your cry was drowned when he crushed your lips with his. It felt like a switch had gone off, your body splintered and shattered as he continued to thrust past your pulsing walls. So overwhelming it was, you barely felt a tear streak its way down your cheek, the deep grunt he made when he whimpered your name and filled you with his seed. You could barely feel yourself breathe, you certainly could think. The world seemed to have a ground to a halt, and all that was there was you and the man on top of you.

Éomer held onto you, not wanting to let you go. He wanted to make this moment last, for it was the first time he had lain with you, and he hoped no one came to disturb either of you. His chest heaved, sweat gathered over his skin, over yours. “Y/n,” he murmured against your ear. “My queen.”

When he rested his brow on yours again, you disentangle yours arms, and cupped his cheeks. “My king.”

His kiss was tender now, chaste and sweet. “So, when do we tell the others?”

Your smile was as wide as his.

#Éomer #Éomer smut #Éomer x reader #eomer imagine #lotr x reader #LOTR #reader insert #creative writing #writing #writeblr

[secret-kpoplibrary]

Inspiring Romance Pt. 1

Pairing: Yoongi x Plus-sized Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: None :))

Genre: Fluff I guess??

Summary: You spent years happily taking care of an old man who surprisingly leaves you a huge gift when he passes. To your surprise, this gift has brought his grandson to your doorstep. Unfortunately, his grandson is one frustratingly arrogant piece of work and now thanks to his grandfather you're stuck with him for three months. You're sure his grandfather rolling in his grave watching the two of you fight every day and as much as you'd like to get along with him for his grandad's sake- he just makes it so hard to like him that you think you'll strangle him before he leaves this place. There's simply no way this could be worse.

***

You quickly finish cleaning the last table in your section and rush to put on your jacket before you clock out.

"Now where are you rushing off to this time?" Your coworker and friend Joy jokingly asks you.

"I'm rushing off to where I'm always rushing off to. I have to I have to check on Mr. Min." You tell her even though she already knows the answer.

"I don't understand why you take shifts during the day if you worry so much about that old man while you're here." Joy shakes her head.

"Despite it being my job he insists I can't spend all my time doting on him. In fact he demands I 'have a life outside of this old manor'. Even though his family wants him to have help he still prides himself on his independence. He'd have to be bedridden before he let me take care of him around the clock." You scoff.

"I say you use the time for hobbies. They pay you so well you don't need this job. The diner will go on without you, you know." Joy says.

"Even if that's true, for now, I am quite happy here thank you. And I still have time for hobbies you rude bitch." You joke. Joy laughs heartily as you clock out.

"Hey! That language is not appropriate around customers."

"I am officially off the clock so I can say whatever I damn well please. I'll see you Joy."

"Friday!" She yells after you as you push through the diner doors and head out to your car. You make the drive up to the manor you've spent most of the last few years in. It's a gorgeous property on a hill overlooking a beach. There are a few houses a short walk away and while the neighbors are friendly enough most everyone around here seems to prefer keeping to themselves.

"Mr. Min! It's y/n! I'm back from work!" You yell out as you shut the door behind you. Your job as his caretaker means you have a key to his house and he usually expects you to let yourself in and out with how often you come and go. When you don't hear a response from the old man, you make your way to the library where he usually doses off reading in the afternoons. "Mr. Min?" You gently shake him when you find him exactly where you expect him, asleep in his large reading chair with a book in his lap.

"Y/n- oh dear did I dose off?" He mutters.

"You always do Mr. Min. I've told you if you want to nap, please, do it in your bed. This can't be good for your back." You chuckle helping him out of his chair.

"Oh would you relax? My back is fine. I don't nod off on purpose but please remember I'm not a child. You worry too much."

"Mr. Min please remember it is my job to worry about you. I would be a terrible caretaker if I didn't worry. Your granddaughter would probably throw a fit." You chuckle.

"What time is it y/n?"

"It's almost five. I'll have dinner ready soon, I just wanted to find you first." You tell him.

"I'm not rushing you. I never do. You worked a morning shift today at the diner then?"

"I did. They needed me to."

"Good! If you're here all day you'll suffocate me." He jokes.

"Mr. Min if you keep talking like that you might just convince me you don't want me around." You retort as you turn on the stove to make dinner.

"And yet I've told you a dozen times to not speak so formally with me- you refuse, how can you also think I don't want you around?"

"It feels odd calling you by your first name, first of all, I work for you, and secondly you're significantly older than me. It would be like calling my grandfather by first name." You explain.

"I've heard your explanations before, still, you're practically family to me now- Mr. Min does not feel familial." He huffs.

"We'll work on a compromise."

"Hm- how was work?"

"It was fine- interesting things seldom happen on the morning shift. Joy was there."

"Joy- how is she?"

"Annoying as always. So I guess that means she's well." You shrug. Mr. Min laughs, well aware of your friendship with Joy.

"Is she still with that human of hers?"

"Yes Mr. Min. Not everyone wants to date a wolfboy you know."

"I don't understand, she'll have to keep herself a secret from him. That can't be fun."

"Well, it's not like they're getting married. If it ever gets to the point that they're planning to spend the rest of their lives together I'm sure Joy will tell him the truth."

"And that's a better option than just dating a wolf she doesn't have to keep secrets from? Why don't you advise this girl? You're friends aren't you?"

"Yes we're friends but it's certainly not my place to tell her what to do with her love life. Especially with how new I am to the wolf thing myself. If he makes her happy that's all that matters for now. You know, those wolf boys are not always so great I'm sure." 

"I believe for a girl such as yourself, or your dear friend, a wolf with always be a better match."

"Well I'll be sure to pass along your message Mr. Min." You chuckle lightly. Mr. Min has always had very peculiar opinions on dating. It's not that he's a genetic purist but he does often worry about the tendencies of humans to overreact when it comes to things they don't understand. According to Mr. Min, if you must date a human, make it a woman, he believes a woman would be less likely to turn you over to scientists to become a lab rat. You've always wondered why he harbors such strong opinions but whenever you ask he just tells you that history repeats itself if you don't learn the lessons taught by it. You wonder if perhaps someone he knew fell victim to loving the wrong human boy and paid the price for it, but at this point, you're sure he'll never tell you if that's the reason he thinks the way he does.

"Alright Mr. Min, I have to return to my apartment but I will only be gone for a few hours." You tell him after dinner is finished and the kitchen is cleaned up.

"You know you're allowed to go home. I think I can manage to put myself to bed y/n. I will see you in the morning." He tells you.

"Mr. Min-"

"I will hear no disagreements. Go home, I've eaten, the house is clean, I'm not so weak that I can't handle one night on my own. After all, you'd have to live here if I couldn't." Mr. Min laughs at his own joke.

"If you insist-"

"I do actually. Perhaps this will prove to you that I am not some frail husk of a man withering to nothing."

"I never said any of that! Your granddaughter only wants to ensure you are well taken care of in your daughter's absence." You say.

"And you take very good care of me. But I will tell you what I have always told both my daughter and my granddaugter, wolves do not break the way humans do. I am still more capable than the average person my age." Mr. Min grumbles.

"And that is why you are allowed to live in this house alone with minimal assistance. Don't push your luck Mr. Min." You smile at him.

"Minimal being the emphasized word here."

"Fine fine- I will leave you be for the night but I will be back first thing in the morning-"

"Like you always are. I look forward to it, but please enjoy your night. You are too young to be so wrapped up in the affairs of an old man." He waves you off.

"It is my job to be wrapped up in the affairs of this particular old man." You roll your eyes as you throw on your jacket and take your leave with one last shout goodbye. 

When you return to your apartment your roommate is sitting on the couch with a carton of takeout watching some sitcom you don't quite catch the name of. Your roommate Irene works for a marketing firm that keeps her pretty occupied. You shrug off your jacket and take off your shoes before you yell out to her that you're home.

"Oh hey! I wasn't expecting you to come back tonight." She says through a mouth full of lo mein.

"Mr. Min pretty much banished me for the evening." You chuckle.

"What?"

"I told him I had to come back here for something but I'd return in a few hours and he basically demanded I not come back until morning. You know how he gets with those speeches of independence." You shrug.

"You know- I don't understand, if he's so independent, why does he have a caretaker anyway?"

"As independent as he may be he does have some health problems, medications that he takes, that sometimes make it harder for him to handle all the things around his house. He knows it as well as I do but damn if he won't hold on to every shred of independence he's got." You shake your head.

"Doesn't he have any kids?" Irene frowns.

"A daughter who is sick and he's got two grandkids, the granddaughter that hired me and a grandson that he raised as I understand." You muse.

"And where is he?" Irene asks.

"Well I'd guess not even the heavens know at this point." You shrug.

"Wait what?"

"Nobody has heard from him since before his aunt got sick. His cousins have no idea where he is and I don't think Mr. Min cares enough to force him home. I mean- he barely wants me looking after him anyway. There's no reason to pester his flighty grandchild."

"It doesn't seem odd to you? That his grandson never tries to contact him?" Irene asks you.

"Mr. Min is alone for enough of the day that they very well might be in contact and I wouldn't know. Either way none of that is my business. My business is Mr. Min's wellbeing and as long as his grandson is not a deterrent to that he could be hiking Antarctica in shorts."

"Why in shorts-?"

"I am making a point here Irene- just eat your lo mein." You roll your eyes.

"I'm just saying it's weird. Did you want some by the way?" She holds the carton out to you.

"Maybe their relationship isn't good Irene. Who cares? No thanks, I just ate with Mr. Min. Maybe later."

"Okay but who would beef with Mr. Min? You always describe him as like the best old man ever. I can't imagine his grandkid hating him."

"Mr. Min is a very sweet old man as far as I know yeah, in fact he treats me like I'm his grandkid too, but that doesn't mean he's not shitty to his own. I mean he's nice to me sure but maybe that kindness came with age and he wasn't so great when his grandson was around, after all, he didn't sign up for having to raise a second generation but he had to when the kid's parents died. I don't know, and we can speculate all night but we have no way of knowing why his grandson isn't around and quite frankly your nosy ass shouldn't be worried about it. You don't even know the man." You scoff.

"But you do and he's so nice to you- his daughter's family seems to care about him a lot but- he must be so sad without his grandson around. Imagine you take all that time raising one of those crotch goblins and they don't even bother to visit you in their old age. He probably doesn't even know his granddad's got a caregiver." Irene points her chopsticks at you and you sigh.

"Irene- would you like to go with me to see Mr. Min tomorrow? Since you're so concerned with his loneliness, you can see for yourself that he's fine, happy even."

"I'd love to in fact. At least I know he's got you. And if his own grandson won't care, perhaps it's a good thing Mr. Min treats you like his granddaughter."

"Irene do you know something I don't? I know you're opinionated but this seems like a strange topic to harp on." You chuckle.

"It's just- we're wolves! Pack animals. To completely abandon your family- I mean- we don't do that!" Irene huffs.

"Irene, darling, if this has to do with your brother, I'm sure he'll come around. But don't project those concerns onto Mr. Min's family. You don't know these people, maybe his grandson has a perfectly reasonable explanation for not being around."

"Do you even know his name?"

"What?"

"His name. Mr. Min's grandson. Do you know his name?"

"Mr. Min has told me once or twice but I- I can't remember off the top of my head. You can ask him yourself tomorrow when you meet him if you like." You shrug.

"I very well might."

"Irene- do not piss off my charge. Keep your questions polite. I like the old man, I don't fancy seeing him turn angry and bitter." You warn your friend.

"I think he likes you too much to ever really be angry with you." She shrugs. You roll your eyes at her and snatch one of her fortune cookies off of the table. If there's one thing about Irene, she's not easily deterred.

***

Part 1/???

Tagged Users: @schokoshaker

#bts #min yoongi #bts suga #werewolf au #werewolf bts #yoongi x reader #plus sized yn #Inspiring Romance